the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything

 ... is 42. or so the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy says.

it's obviously tongue in cheek, but it's also something more.

it means the answer doesn't mean much, if you don't ask the right question. and sometimes asking the appropriate question is more tricky than finding the correct answer to it.

I don't know if it's a mid-life thing (aside: I wonder why the word mid-life is almost always used with crisis!), or if it's just a my-life thing, or it is a combination of both and the series of crises that life seems to be throwing at me with regularity.

but yeah, it's definitely a time to think about questions, as much as I think about answers. in fact, the answers to most questions I ask myself these days are quite obvious - which, to me, is a hint that perhaps I'm not asking myself the right questions.

one thing's for sure though, my 40s (so far) have been an exercise in crisis management. it seems to have started with the motorbike accident just 3 weeks before I turned 40 (or maybe the near-crisis career "bump" that happened a few months before it?), and it's just been one thing after another since. some positive things have happened as well, but it's fair to say that while the successes are welcome and lasting, they also seem to be few and far between, while the struggles, although not disastrous, do seem to knock me down with regularity - to the point where every single day seems to be a struggle I'm ill-equipped to deal with. some of those struggles are self-inflicted/self-exacerbated (mechanical problems with my motorbike and car come to mind) but the vast majority seem to be curveballs life/the universe is throwing at me.

one thing that stands out the most though, is that these crises have reminded me in no uncertain terms, that the most valuable of all things is health. the next is human connections. somewhere in the mix is things like discipline, persistence, consistency, etc.

but those are all "answers". it's been a while since I've even stopped to consider the questions, in anything more than an academic, philosophical, almost idle sense.

mom loved to say that one of my granddad's favourite expressions was "is life worth living? it depends on the liver" (an obvious pun on the organs/health of the person asking the question, as well as the state of the person themselves).

in my case, I can say, beyond doubt, that as a person, my life seems worth living.

my daily struggles have reminded me repeatedly of the privilege and opportunities I have - my support system (both emotionally and economically), my stress-free environment (if say 95% of the people I know were in the same situation I am in, they probably will not have the circumstances to easily deal with them!), and more... 

and yet, the struggle remains. a struggle so bad that I am sometimes jealous of people around me (obviouslt on a superficial level! I know my situation is unique and I cannot pick and choose aspects of others' lives - that's not how the universe works!). a struggle that I hope isn't going to occupy me for the rest of my life, although I am realistic enough to acknowledge that worse struggles do exist, and it's not a guarantee that things will get better quickly or easily.

I don't know why I am so fixated on this struggle. I don't know why I can't see the bright side of things. of getting the clarity to see life as it really is. without all of its assumptions and distractions. 

I've been advised to try meditation. but meditation in and of itself leads to idle meandering. I think I need something mroe directed. I think I need to ask myself more questions.

or maybe I just need to sleep on time (yes, there are actually 3 people who have advised me the same thing, and in fact it's the only thing that the majority of people who are closely aware of what I'm going through agree upon). damn, that would be an anticlimax if it was true!

either way, here I am, rambling along. a metaphor for my life, if there ever was one. 42 years old. happy birthday to me!

the un-optimized life

A comment on a youtube video about watching everything at 3x speed (to keep your mind sharp and optimize the rate of flow of information) reminded me of something I've never blogged - a bit about my past, that very strongly shaped how I lived ever since. 

I'm not feeling like rewording my comment, so here it is, copied from the video:

Interesting thing about speed listening. I'm guessing there haven't been long term studies about this though. I have anecdotal evidence about speed reading as an analogy. I started speeding up my reading from when I was about 6, hitting my maximum at about 9 and sustaining that for many years - I never counted words per minute but it was 4.5 pages per minute of paperback novels. At that speed, I was reading between 2 and 3 books a day, literally running out of stuff to read. I kept that speed going till I was about 19. At that point, I think I got saturated with information (I had literally ready my entire school library, although my uni library was much larger and I didn't bother even trying to cover it). I can speed-read even now (I'm 42) but I find it very exhausting and not worth the effort. I have stopped optimizing the flow of information into my head and now focus on enjoying the journey, even if it's information for information's sake. It seems like youtube/podcasts in general are inefficient sources of information, so a person may not hit saturation point as quickly (or at all?) but given speed-listening to youtube has been with some people since childhood, I wonder if they may eventually reach the same predicament as I have with reading.

Just to add: while the first aspect of my life to be consciously de-optimized was my information diet, it's now spread to pretty much everything else. As recently as 10 years ago, I used to believe in packing every moment of free time I had with "things worth doing".

That's completely changed now. Well before Chronic Fatigue Syndrome took over my life, I had very much stopped optimizing my time. Everything has become about being "in the moment" even if the moment was something mundane. Kinda like climbing the same hill twice a week for 3 years - something I could never even imagine 10 years ago!

I still seek new experiences, and still enjoy change, but I have stopped feeling that pressure now. 

To put it differently, life doesn't feel "too short", life now feels "long enough" - a crazy thing to say when I can literally see weeks and months go by in a blink, just staying afloat - eat, work (not always - CFS has really impacted my ability to get things done!), sleep repeat. And no, I've not run out of things to do. I've simply stopped maintaining a ToDo list. I now do things as I feel like, when I feel like. I don't sweat the missed opportunities, the things I could do. Or even the things I could do better.

I don't know if this will ever change, but I can see this is simply what I learned in my late teens with regards to information and learning, spreading over to the rest of my life.

Anyway, it's 10:45pm. I'm off to bed!

y u lukin lidat

May 2012... 13 years ago to the day. I did a 600+ km  overnight motorbike ride across the country as I was on vacation and had just got a job offer confirmed - they expected me to start on May 28th. left Karnataka at like 6pm and reached home at about 10am. there was no network for the first 6 hours or so, and Google didn't have offline maps back then - I was riding in the dark along (and sometimes beside!) country roads in the hope of getting to a highway... which I did at almost midnight. I remember the sigh of relief when I pulled into the Kolhapur McDonald's, finally able to freshen up and grab a bite. 

From stert to finish, I listened to this song on loop and sang along - literally the entire night, to keep myself alert:

Inna - Amazing

When I got bored of the existing lyrics, I made up my own. Mostly funny and sometimes rude, some so rude I can never repeat them out loud. Not that it really matters what I sang though. It kept me going.

Y U Lukin Lidat!

our first opera - Eugene Onegin

In February, on a whim, Shruti asked me if we could go for an opera performance at the recently renovated and reopened Royal Opera House in Belfast. I said yes, without much thought, despite our usual track record of plans made well in advance going awry - especially when there is money involved!

Thankfully, things did not go wrong, and the day arrived. Shruti reminded me a week before it as I had completely forgotten we had this booked in! We both decided to go to office that day, to reduce the chances of any last minute hiccups, and we were ready at the opera house at 7pm, with about half an hour to spare. This was my first time at the Royal Opera House, and it was magnificent, from the ornate ceiling and decor to the stage which seemed massive from our vantage point. It was also smaller than some of the opera houses I've seen in photos, which might have worked in our favour as I do prefer the intimacy of a smaller venue for live performances. Shruti had picked seats in the 2nd row, which I'd have personally assumed to be too close (a friend Nicole who is also an opera singer said that row 8 is the sweet spot as it puts you at eye level with the actors) but given the size of the venue it didn't hinder our experience. I'm not sure where I read about the programme being handed out for an Opera but Shruti had to go back out of the main hall to collect one, and reading it occupied me for the few minutes before the lights dimmed and the show began.

My first impression was that this was almost a sensory overload. The music was beautiful in it's own right, as were the costumes, the acting - but the crown was taken by the singing. Having never experienced this before, I didn't really have a benchmark (other than recordings online, of course), but this was so much more! Also, as I hadn't read the story in advance, I didn't really know what to expect - and the first few minutes were spent adjusting to this medium of entertainment. It's almost like I had to switch off my attention to detail, and try to take in the experience as a whole. Everything was mesmerizing. I spent most of the hour and a half of the first acts lost in a trance, almost losing sense of my own existence while I took in the scenes set before me! It was only towards the end of the first half, nearing the interval, that I was aware of the stiffness of sitting in one spot for so long. I guess the seats could have been a little more comfortable. I also might have yawned once, but that was more due to the physical exhaustion of such a long day! The interval was almost an hour and a half from the start, and I was thankful it was a good 20 minutes long - I made a beeline for the loo and then exited the building for a quick stroll and snack from the shop opposite, to prepare myself for the last couple of acts.

The second half was very dramatic, as I kinda expected, but also far shorter than the first half. That was perfect though, as the energy and build up of emotions was very intense, and I dare say the actors packed as much intensity in those last 45 minutes as the did in the first hour and a half!

When it ended, and it was time for the curtain call, I knew that this was an experience that would be hard to top. I know the first time for everything significant feels special, but in this case, it was beyond special - it was magical!

In hindsight, while I had no benchmark, it seems like I was right and also lucky - the performance was critically acclaimed and received many positive reviews online too, by who I'd assume are opera regulars. Perosnally, I was blown away by the fact that an orchestra could play for over two hours without skipping a beat (yes, I know, that's considered the stgandard of performance, but it still blows my mind!) but more so, that while the opera is in Russian, the entire cast whith a couple of exceptions, were Irish or British!

All this means one thing: this is definitely not going to be my last opera!

41.01

Another birthday. Wasn't expecting any fanfare this time. Didn't even take the day off work. Shruti did plan for a few friends to come over, and we were quuite surprised when all of them, except for two, made it! It felt nice to be surrounded by friends. Unlike previous birthday parties, I didn't get much drinking done (3 pints of Guinness, and that was after a large bubble tea and another cup of regular tea!).

I did have other plans besides celebrating on the actual day though. Went on an evening sail (5pm-10pm) on the eve of my birthday, which was nice... I was happy about what might have been my smoothest boat parking so far! Friday was supposed to be a team lunch at work at a Michelin starred restaurant, but unfortunately it was cancelled at the last minute and I ended up eating party leftovers instead. Saturday was a whole day spent sailing, although I couldn't really enjoy it to the fullest as I was extremely tired. Went out for dinner with Shruti and one of the friends who couldn't make it.

Cancelled on the Sunday Cavehill walk as I was again too tired for it. But did watch half a movie and head out for a late lunch with Shruti to Culloden estate, which is a rather posh estate with a very nice restaurant. Shruti had specifically reserved the table with the best view for us, and it was great! Went for a bit of a drive to Bangor, followed by a walk along the part of the seafront I've never walked along before.

I think birthdays are overrated, but with the exception of one and a half day of sailing (which might be a little too much to be sustainable on a regualr basis) and no hiking/cycling, this is how I'd love to spend every week of my life!

And yes, cheers to being 41 (with bubble tea!)

cycling for charity

This month, as I end up doing every summer, I embarked on a charity fundraiser. My cause this time was Cancer Research UK. The challenge is to cycle 300 miles in June (and obviously raise some money).

The last time I took up a cycling challenge, was in April 2021 when I decided to cycle 410 kilometres in a month to raise money for people displaced by climate change. I didn't even have an e-bike back then, and the office was closed for the pandemic so all my cycling had to be done in my free time. We were also in the middle of closing the purchase of our home and then moving to it, so it was a lot to balance! In fact, I'm surprised I got to 400km the first 3 weeks of that month - I was literally going to do 10km in laps of the waterworks (a circular park barely 2km from home) on the last week but that was right in the middle of packing and moving and was obviously impossible. I did set a personal record for longest ride (Belfast to Moira, 70km round trip) which I've only bested once (the around mumbai ride in November 2021, a cool 107 km!)

Anyway, back to this month. 482 km isn't that much more than 410, and it seemed somewhat achievable when I signed up - I was hoping to get the miles in after work, and given I'll have to a minimum of 6 miles (the return trip to work) thrice a week anyway, that'd be quarter of my distance already done and dusted. My strategy was to do two longish rides after work, keeping the middle day strictly a commute, and then doing one more ride over the weekend. It seemed like a decent strategy as I managed 70 miles in the first week, which put me slightly below but close enough to the target.

And then, week 2 happened. Cycling through an unknown neighbourhood after work, two boys accosted me and tried to take my cycle off me. The standoff lasted almost 15 minutes, and left me very shaken. The next day involved a ride to the police station and a few hours spent submitting my report of the incident. Since then, I have been struggling when it comes to getting out and riding. Even though I know it was an isolated incident and I have been cycling around equally if not worse neighbourhoods, in the dark, etc., I can't shake that fear of the incident recurring. After that day, I've mostly simply taken roundabout routes home, avoiding unfamiliar roads. In fact, I've even taken to doing laps of the waterworks, although I don't think I've managed 10 km.

Last weekend was the longest ride of this month, one that has actually been on my bucket list for a while, even though I wasn't sure if I was fully up for it: Belfast to Bangor (and back) by the coastal path. It was scenic, and Sunday was a beautiful day for it, even though I started at almost 3pm, which was much later than I had planned. Still, just 38 miles, so not a significant dent towards my target.

As of today, I have 6 days and 99 miles left. I really don't know how I'm going to achieve it. I'm not feeling my best to begin with, which makes it even harder. Let's see.

Anyway, while cycling is one of the goals, the other one is funraising. So if I've not lost all my readers by now, here's how you can donate:

https://fundraise.cancerresearchuk.org/page/krist0ph3r

marbella

5th of May: after much anticpation but not enough preparation, we were off to Spain!

the flight was at 6am from Belfast International Airport, and I did something crazy-ish: drove to the airport, dropped shruti off with the bags, then drove about a mile away to a spot I scoped out on Google maps to be legal to park, unfolded my cycle from the boot, and cycled to the airport! chained my cycle next to another one, and we were off on an uneventful but tiring flight to malaga. landed at 9am, took the bus to Marbella (and literally missed one bus by a minute!), dropped our bags at the Airbnb (Marbella is very hilly!) and then headed out to grab a bite at a street side cafe. walked around a little more, made a dinner reservation at a highly rated tapas place, headed back to the bnb, checked in, and took a quick nap. was so sleepy though, we couldn't bring ourselves to wake up for the dinner reservation at 7pm, but thankfully they allowed us to move it to 9pm and we were ready and fresh by then. after the relaxed dinner, we walked around a bit and clicked photos before heading to our Airbnb. super start to our vacation! 

the next day, we set off for a "local" breakfast place. we had a late start, and it was quite busy by the time we arrived - we would have liked ot sit outdoors but those tables were highly sought after and we concluded it's better to sit indoors without the view instead. we tried what was to become our favourite hot drink of the vacation: "bombon" (coffee with condensed milk). went perfectly with churros!

breakfast was a little hit-and-miss though - the waiters didn't speak english, and our order didn't exactly arrive the way we asked, but we aren't fussy so it was fine.

we walked around town, clicked plenty of photos, shruti shopped a bit (just one dress, to be fair), we made our dinner reservation, headed back to base, and then after a brief nap, we headed down to the waterfront. we walked the "golden mile" (which was actually about 4 miles) of seafront from marbella to puerto banus. it was super hot and we needed plenty of rest breaks on the way, but we made it, and the seafront walk was very well worth it! we had drinks inside pienapples (very expensive, but worth it!) booked the ferry back, had an ice cream while we waited for it, and finally enjoyed the sunset cruise back!

and finally, we had just enough time to shower, change and grab dinner - roast suckling! it was really, really good!

tuesday was our last whole day in Marbella - we headed to the local breakfast place again in the hope of getting an outside table, but the queue was longer than ever! bombon and churros again, and the waiters even remembered us from yesterday!

we then walked around and checked out the local "municipal market" - amazing produce, including seafood - and best of all, a cafe serving more local food! second breakfast/brunch downed, walked around a bit, and got back to our room for a bit of a siesta. we were trying to decide what to do for dinner, and shruti mentioned that we are right next door to a two michelin star restaurant. literally 5 doors down on our street. and they had tables available - nobody had booked a table for that night! shruti wasn't entirely convinced (it was a lot of money!), but to me, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity - one that begged to be taken. after about half an hour of indecision, we reserved our table for 7pm.

the dinner was exquisite and deserves a blog post of its own (after my 40th birthday dinner's blog post - my first michelin starred restaurant experience, just under a year ago!). after dinner, we were well and truly satisfied (and me, also a little tipsy as I had chosen to go with the wine pairing - I really went all out that night!).

back in the bnb, we hastily packed, after I made sure i uploaded each of my photos with the right title. i didn't want any record of that exquisite meal to be lost to the sands of time!

next morning, we headed back to the local cafe for bombon, churros and a sandwich, then checked out and dragged the bags back to the bus station - uphill this time, so even more exhausting! we missed a bus thanks to it being full, but it was already running late, so we were on the next bus to malaga at noon. exactly 3 days in marbella!

leaving las vegas

yesterday was my last day at my job. I've only worked 3 full-time, corporate jobs in my whole life, and this is the first one that I quit just to change employers - for all the preceding ones, it was something else.

conventional wisdom says you shouldn't be emotionally attached to an employer. but in this case, I was - for personal reasons. if it wasn't for them, I wouldn't have been in Belfast. unlike Shruti, who had to build her friend circle the hard way, I was surrounded by friendly, welcoming people at work from day one.

and so, changing jobs because I wanted to change employers is a strange feeling. specifically, it was not to change my work. I loved what I was doing. I even loved the people I was working with. It was all the other things. the pay, the policies. the fact that something someone did to me a while ago could have a long term impact on my prospects despite my best efforts. the fact that the management couldn't do anything to set right what seemed to me to be an obvious wrong.

anyway. enough about the past. it's time to look forward to the future! this is the first time an employer actually provided me coaching to help me succeed at my new job. it was supposed to be an hour but we covered so much in half an hour, that that was all I needed. i feel armed!

I planned to have a week off between jobs because I wanted to do a motorbike trip to clear my head before I start. Unfortunately, the motorbike trip seems unlikely - "Lisa" has been out of action for three weeks - she literally died getting out of the garden and into the driveway with an electrical fault that the mechanic has been unable to diagnose yet. My to-do list is never ending though, and though the initial plan was to take my time between jobs as "me time" and keep the to-do list for "business as usual" time, fate seems to have conspired to do the opposite. Time to mow the lawn!

As I cycled to work yesterday, Sheryl Crow's "leaving las vegas" happened to play. This line struck me:

"Such a muddy line between
The things you want
And the things you have to do"

2023

no matter how you paint it, 2023 was not a rosy year. if life's about taking the rough with the smooth, this year was more rough than smooth - no doubt about that.

still, now that the year is drawing to a close, I have much to be grateful for. of all the things that went wrong, as well as the many more things that threatened to go wrong, I'm grateful that no permanent damage seems to have been done.

2023 was the sort of year that made me second guess a lot of things I took for granted. I don't know if it's just the effect of things that happened, but now, every decision I make seems to be underscored by the thought that everything could go wrong. and I now accept that.

is it just all the risks I've been taking catching up with me? or have I simply been unlucky?

either way, I don't think I've changed my behaviour. I've just pressed on harder, conscious that I'm doing what I've always wanted to do.

I don't know what 2024 holds in store, and to some extent, I don't particularly care. I know what I want to make of it. 

I don't have any resolutions or even plans for 2024. I'm not going to think about what the universe is going to send my way. all I know is, I'm already doing what I want to do. I'll just keep doing it, maybe a little more earnestly than this year!

The anniversary adventure

23rd December marked 7 years since we got married. I still remember some of that day very well, although given the amount of photographs, facebook statuses and other digital evidence I have of the day, it's hard to separate what I remember organically from what I remember digitally. It's true though that the statuses and photos and videos and whatnot are linked to feelings, feelings I can still feel inside me from that eventful day. And I guess one of the overwhelming feelings I have from that day was of adventure!

My life 7 years ago was definitely crazier and more unpredictable than what it is now, and while I remember the feelings and even feel the motivation to do the same things, it's almost like something's holding me back. It's like, every time I sit at my couch and look at my motorbike parked outside my front door, I think, I could just go for a spin in the middle of the night? Only difference is, there's no crazy friends to meet for tea at 1am, no all-night chai and bun-maska stalls, the waterfront feels boring, and I should really be going to bed.

Anyway.

On the 23rd, I sneaked out of the house to buy mutton from St George Market. I thought Shruti was still asleep and wouldn't notice. Turns out she did. Does that count as adventure? When was the last time I tried to sneak out of the house without telling Shruti? Must be years!

We then changed and headed out for lunch at the "Dirty Duck", a rather nice (and award-winning, it turns out!) restaurant at Holywood. I didn't really do any research at all, Shruti had done the reservation, and I was thankful I had stuck on navigation before we set off, because I wouldn't had found it - I had no idea Holywood had such a nice seafront, much less that the dirty duck was situated right off it!

Lunch was great, and we were so stuffed we decided to walk around before heading back. We walked to the high street, stopped at Cafe Nero for a coffee, and walked around the town centre and back to where we parked the bike. Wore our helmets, gloves, and was about to set off when I had an "oh no" second: I had popped the keys to the ignition into the locked fairing pocket!

I tried jimmying the lock open with our house keys (yes, thankfully we carried a spare set, there have been plenty of times we didn't because I have one set on the bike keys - in fact evern today, Shruti grabbed the spare set as we were getting out the door, "just in case"!), to no avail. Someone was unlocking their car in front of us, and we asked them if they had a screwdriver. Strangely enough, they said they didn't, but they checked the boot and found a first aid kit, which had a pair of scissors - that didn't work either. In the meantime, Shruti called the nearest locksmith (a half an hour's walk, but still in Holywood) but there was no answer. I then called the next nearest locksmith, but he said they don't do emergency callouts and asked us to call the locksmith we had just called.

After one last call to the nearby locksmith, we decided to head home and fetch the duplicate key instead. Luckily for us, we were just a 5 minute walk from the train station (we had just walked past it), and the next train was due in another 15 minutes. We booked a single ticket for Shruti and a return for myself. Back in Belfast, the quicket means of transport was actually the bus, so we took the bus home - again, a single ticket for Shruti and a day pass for me. Back home, I picked up the powerbank and charging cable, headphones, a bottle of water, and headed back out to catch the same bus that had just dropped us home, headed back the other way. Ran to the station, and caught the next train with just 4 minutes to spare! I was glad the timing worked out perfectly, and also that the key opened the lock, despite my attempts at forcing it open with a scissors!

Given the sort of thing that just happened, I was super cautious as I put the keys away and got ready to start the bike, conscious that all 3 sets of keys were now on me, and there was no plan b!

On the way home, I did stop for groceries, and also picked up a drill machine from Jay before finally getting home around 9pm - 4 hours after I locked the keys in the bike.

The rest of our anniversary was fairly mundane, sitting around with Shruti, watching youtube and talking about stuff - enough adventure for today!

It may feel strange, but less than a downer, I felt it was actually nice to have a bit of adventure on our anniversary. We had a good time, but we also took the rough with the smooth, and all's well that ends well. Which kinda sums up our relationship too.

Happy anniversary to us!

all-inclusive!

Last week, we spent 5 days in the sunny (and occasionally - but only very briefly - rainy) Dominican Republic. It was my first time at an all inclusive tropical resort, and the sort of thing I wouldn't have planned myself, and definitely not in the part of the world I'd have usually considered for a holiday either. It was all thanks to Nisha and Pieter deciding to celebrate their pandemic wedding with a proper party! They picked a splendid resort, the Excellence Punta Cana, and going by reviews, it could very well be the best resort in the area. 

Punta Cana fits the definition of a tropical paradise to the letter, and after all the planning and booking and the long flight we landed at this quaint airport which even has a thatched roof!

Through the airport, we were at the spot where we were supposed to get our pre-arranged airport transfer. The staff were very courteous, the transport felt exclusive (a massive 7-seater Chevrolet Suburban for just the two of us, seems every group got a suburban to themselves, even though it was just 6 of us on that flight to that resort!)

Champagne at the resort gate while our bags were unloaded, we were escorted to the front desk where we were given the all important WiFi details (no password even!), key cards to our room, and the link to download the app through which we could get all the information we could need - restaurant and bar timings and menus, dress codes, etc. We were told what's included (basically knock ourselves out with the mini bar in the room, everything in the fridge, 24 hour room service etc.) literally everything!

It's a strange experience, when you can eat and drink everything on offer. Don't like something? Ask for something else. Can't decide what to drink? Order both! 5 or 6 restaurants, 3 or 4 bars, 3 swimming pools, Jacuzzi, a private-ish beach (open to the public, but there's no other resort around so it's pretty much exclusive). Sun beds, staff walking around to make sure food and drink is in constant supply. Courteous and attentive staff. Your belongings are safe anywhere you choose to leave them (and you obviously don't even need to carry anything besides your room card around). Shruti had looked up the menus of all the restaurants and made a list of what we should eat at which one. A list of cocktails/drinks we should try. At some point I stopped caring. The food was all passable, but nothing was truly great. Some of the drinks were uniformly good, others were hit-and-miss. There were so many activities, but at some point I wasn't really feeling like doing any of them. I realized it had reached a tipping point when there was a game organised in the pool where the staff threw dominoes into the pool and people took turns to fish out as many dominoes in a single breath (ie without surfacing) - something I'd normally love to do, but I just didn't feel like it it. I literally stood by in the pool for 15 minutes and watched people give it a try. 

Of course, I did enjoy the company - it was great to spend time with Nisha and Pieter, couple of their cousins I haven't met in decades, a few of their friends who we got to know over the period, interesting conversations, including one night we were up till 3am because the conversation was so interesting we lost track of time! But generally, by the end of the 5 days, I think we were ready to leave. I guess the only event we really enjoyed was the "Dominican Republic festival" they had one evening, which was a buffet of local dishes, with a live band, some traditional dances - I would honestly have preferred to eat local food every day, but there was no such option (except for a few measly offerings at the buffet restaurant which seemed neglected by everyone I saw!). My only regret was not eating at the Mexican restaurant which actually seemed authentic - it seems Shruti didn't really look at the menu when she was planning our meals, or maybe I didn't sound very enthusiastic about Mexican food when she read the menu out to me the weekend before we flew?

By the end of our stay we stopped eating lunch and instead would snack on coconut pulp from the fresh coconuts we were regularly drinking - something I noticed most people weren't doing. I stopped trying new cocktails or even looking at the menu. 

I realized I was eating and drinking way more than I should - not more than I used to say 10 years ago, but more than my body is currently used to. But given there was nothing much else to do, I had no way to assess how happy or unhappy my body was with the treatment. I felt mentally un-stimulated. I was feeling like taking naps instead of lazing in the pool. 

I felt a bit of guilt about being in this centrally air-conditioned room with the thermostat set to a cool 20°C while the rest of the country suffers from blackouts that lasted hours. Of drinking bottled water because that was the only option. I felt sad about having staff at my beck and call, doing everything to make my stay enjoyable.

When we were in the taxi to the airport, I was excited to actually be able to see the country outside of the resort.

I thought to myself - that one experience was enough for me. An all-inclusive resort certainly made it stress free when it came to organising and spending time together, but I definitely don't associate it with travel or a vacation. It's hard to put a name to the feeling, but I somehow feel like I must put some effort in order to enjoy things... in fact, I don't think I can fully enjoy experiences if there is no degree of discomfort involved. Maybe that's why I enjoyed my first night the most (if you disregard the wedding evening itself, for obvious reasons), because we were exhausted from the flight and I felt some discomfort in pushing myself to attend the "silent disco" after over 16 hours of travel!

Anyway - one more experience ticked off my list. Next up: Puerto Rico! 

new wheels I can't ride

 yes, it happened. I own a motorbike. again. it's a honda. again. it's even a pan european. again.

I still can't explain how it happened. after my accident, it took me over a month and a half before I was in good enough shape to even get back to cycling. and even when I did, it was a struggle. I spent over a month driving to work.

the last weekend before I gave up the courtesy car, I spent half the insurance payout, exchanged my 5 year old full size cycle, and brought myself a full-size ebike.

I told myself, this will be my vehicle of choice for the foreseeable future.

except that... a few weeks later, I fell sick.

and that's when I realized, cycling's great when you're healthy, but simply impossible when you're battling an infection. and my infection was bad.

what started off as an idle thought of getting another bike, now had a note of urgency to it.

truth be told (and this might sound like blasphemy to people who know me well), I'd have been equally happy with a car. but it's just the way things happened. the car thing simply didn't work out, and the bike thing simply did. in fact, I put way more time and effort into car shopping, while pan europeans seemed to be following me around!

anyway. long story short... it's in the driveway. it hasn't left the driveway yet.

I know this isn't the usual me. this wasn't me when I purchased Vicki - that day, I literally rode around the parking lot because I didn't have the tax and insurance to be able to take it out on the road!

which also reminds me, I didn't post a photo of the day I purchased Vicki:

2nd September 2019

Compare that with today (I won't count yesterday as the tax hadn't been paid yet, and gov.uk doesn't allow you top register the purchase/sale of a vehicle after 7pm!) - I dusted the bike, then sprayed it with muc-off and hosed it down, cleaned the inside of the panniers, even fitted the phone mount.

But I didn't ride it. I didn't even sit on it.

Was it because I'm unwell? I guess to some extent, yes - I am far from fit at the moment. My health keeps going between "I should be good to go back to work tomorrow" and coughing fits that make me half wish for a quick and painless end. But I'm not too unwell to take a spin around the block at least.

No, that's not it. I'm still not ready to face the world on a motorbike.

I'm just too nervous at intersections, inclines, uneven surfaces, around vehicles, and all possible  permutations and combinations of them. And worst of all, while I've spent years riding around on worse combinations, the trauma from the accident has left me extremely nervous about getting back on the world on a motorbike. I'm fine on a cycle - in fact, the day I fell sick, I had cycled some 45km, and literally got home because I was hungry and wanted to eat something home cooked! But there's something about getting back on a motorbike, and riding it out, inevitably passing that junction where the accident happened, that fazes me.

I know I'll have to come to terms with it at some point.

I know I'll have to get back to riding again.

But for now, I'm not sure if I'm ready.

I have a feeling she is, though.

16th October 2023

Introducing: Lisa, my 2002 Honda Pan European ST1300.

Almost 40

Yep, I'm almost there. The big four-oh. Never quite imagined myself here. When I was a teenager, I had some idea of what I wanted my 20s to be like. When I was 20, I had some idea of what I wanted my 30s to be like.

I have to admit, I never stopped to think what I wanted my 40s to be like. Or my 50s, for that matter. I do have a vague idea of what I'd like my retired years to be like - but that's a long way off.

I know the drill. Age is just a number, you're as old as you feel, yada yada. But that's not what this post is about. The reason I have no idea what I want my 40s to be like is because my 30s have been so different from anything I imagined. They kinda started predictably, but then I can't pinpoint what happened. All I can say is that just like the things that have happened in the last 10 years, I'm half expecting crazy things to happen in the next 10. I don't know what, but I know it'll most probably be things I have never imagined, or never given much thought to.

There are still some dreams I want to achieve - things that have been on my to-do list for a while. These things are all within my reach, but I'm yet to reach out and sieze them. And in some cases I almost don't want to be able to strike them off the list just yet. It's not like I'm waiting for something to happen before I seize them. I just feel I need to take my time, pace myself, calm the restlessness, and enjoy the journey.

And so, here I am. Enjoying the journey!

don't sweat the small stuff

i've always endeavoured to be as "sustainable" with my lifestyles as I can be - I don't know how I ended up like this, but it's obvious why.

the last few years have seen me intensify my focus: not only have I tried to apply this to my own life, but also those around me, and use my social influence to widen my impact as well.

it seems though, that the biggest limiting factor at the moment is myself!

I've concluded that in my focus on trying to squeeze sustainability into every corner of my life, i might have overdone things, and it's limiting my ability to reach others.

a simple example: my insistence on minimizing heating use now has turned it into a bit of a domestic conflict. shruti now seems to view heating as a guilty pleasure instead of something that needs to be used responsibly and appropriately. this is not a productive state to be in.

also, focusing too much on myself and too little on others means I've limited my impact to one person!

it doesn't matter if I only use the car twise a month, when my neighbours use both their cars twice a day, for short journeys (which are the worst of all!)

it doesn't matter if i cycle everywhere, if everyone else thinks cycling is dangerous and i'm some sort of freak (because I probably seem quite a risk-taker to most people, with my motorcycling and all!)

I think a more productive use of my effort would be to talk about how people can make small changes that would make a big impact when many people follow them.

for example: reducing and reusing over recycling and disposing. I think everyone understands the benefits of recycling, but not many seem to realize that recycling is only slightly better than disposing stuff! reducing consumption of any item (whether it's packaging, or the product itself!) beats recycling by miles - as much as 100x depending on the product. it's more sustainable to responsibly drive a 15 year old well-maintained car than a swanky new electric "green" one! making two grocery trips a week on cycle is better than one a week in a fuel-burning vehicle.

but even in the above example, i need to make sure my message isn't an extreme one! consumption does not need to be guilty - it just needs to be as sustainable as it can be. with time, the needle will move, and we will find new ways to improve. there's no point going to extreme extents or trying to convince people to go to extremes, if they cannot sustain it.

anyway, feels like i'm going off on a rant - time to log off and think about how I can help everyone make small changes. good night!

166 miles in May

When I decided to walk/run 50 miles in May, I was expecting a struggle to finish it. My Garmin's stats say I covered that much in all of the 4 months before it! 

It was a slow start, but after initial hiccups (May 1 and 2), I was unstoppable. 

Along the way, my own mental health has improved, I feel so much better, and I have promised to keep this going. 

And so, back to the thing that got me moving to begin with: the Samaritans. While I am extremely grateful for those who have contributed/promised to contribute, I have barely got a handful of contributions. I set off hoping to raise some money along with creating awareness (and getting more active!). 

let me know if you are happy to support the Samaritans (I'll consolidate all contributions and pay them shortly) or you can contribute directly:

https://www.samaritans.org/donate/?amount=00&pay-in=on&campaign_id=74&frequency=single&currency=GBP

if you use the link, do select "50 miles in May"

And if you do need to talk, the Samaritans are there to listen.

learning to sail: day 2

after a lot of action and information on day 1 of the sailing course, we had a good night's sleep (my second ever night on a boat - the first one is still etched in my memory, although i'm surprised it's not on my blog!) and were up and ready for another day on the sea!

breakfast'd and tea'd up, we asked Hugh what is now to be our (and probably his) favourite question: "what's the plan?"

and so, we had our first introduction to nautical charts, tidal charts, and I finally found a use for the wind indication on my phone's weather app: to make plans!

the two main things a sailor needs to know before making plans are: wind and tide.

we checked the weather prediction for that day. i don't remember what exactly it was, but it was supposed to be a pretty calm day, light wind and (not that it mattered), no rain. it was around 10am, and we were hoping to be off in an hour, looking for a destination we could get to in time for lunch. our plan at the outset was to sail to and learn to anchor at a suitable spot, have lunch, do some tricks, and sail to bangor, a town across belfast lough. we assumed we could do a speed of 5 knots (which Hugh then explained: 5 knots = 5 nautical miles an hour. a nautical mile is slightly more than a regular mile - and in fact it has a precise relationship to distances on a map!). we then had a look at the chart, and had a look at all the places we could get to in a 10 nautical mile radius (ie getting us to anchor for lunch at 1pm). this involved a few new things for us: converting the map into actual distances on water is not as simple as it might be expected to be! the technique to find the actual distance for a given page of the nautical chart is was basically finding the divison on the chart which had a tick next to the vertical axis (latitude), at which point one minute (ie 1/60th of a degree) of latitude equals one nautical mile. one minute is further divided into 10ths which are called "cables". and each page of the map has got the horizontal distance (ie longitude) scaled so that the length corresponding to one mile in any direction is the same. all of this ended in some amusement when we decided that all these complicated distance calculations were to be converted to finger lengths to find out how far we could go 😂, but Hugh humoured us (or maybe egged us on, I don't remember 😁)

the other consideration was wind: you want to anchor at a spot where the wind is blowing away from land, as that provides a calm anchorage. wind blowing towards land gives rougher seas, and a whole lot of other problems. based on the direction of wind and distance, we found copeland island (or more specifically, a bay on the south side of the largest copeland island) to be a suitable spot to aim for.

the next thing was the tide: we first had to find the timing of the tide. each of the ports in the UK had their tide timing relative to some reference (i think it was Liverpool). it also had the high and low tide height at spring and at neap. tidal charts suggested the tide was about to turn halfway through our journey. unfortunately the tidal chart had just one number for all of belfast lough, and copeland is just slightly outside it, so it was just a rough approximation. it was something like 3 knots at its maximum, but since the tide would be turning during our journey it wouldn't be that much of a concern. on the other hand, the height of the tide was more involved to calculate - Hugh just told us we could assume it to be 3 metres, but as I was curious he showed me how he got to that number: the movement from spring to neap tides is linear, so you need to first find out which part of the cycle you currently are at, and then tide height on that day follows something of a sine wave, and you have to take the maximum and minimum, and then take the number of hours (or more precise, if you need to) before/after high tide and find that point on the curve. there's also the law of 12ths which provides a useful approximation: in the first hour, 1/12th of the water moves, in the next hour, 2/12ths (ie 1/6th), and the 3rd hour it's 3/12ths (ie 1/3rd). this assumes full tides are 12 hours apart, which they aren't, but this is close enough if the tidal range isn't much (it was 2 metres or so) and we were anyway at the time the tide turns so the change in depth won't be much.

finally, we had to plot our course. Hugh mentioned the various ways to do so: using the compass and a bearing (ie direction), various waypoints, aligning features on land and water, both forward as well as backward. we had to also ensure we stayed clear of any hazards, and the one shipping lane nearby.

we then looked at the wind direction again and checked if we could sail or if we would have to use the motor. Hugh explained the various points of sail - close haul, beam reach, broad reach and run. we spent some time trying to understand why we couldn't sail closer to the wind than a close haul, and how the sail and wind are aligned (the best angle is 45 degrees) and how the boat is oriented with the sail and the wind during each of those points of sail. we looked at the chart again and our course, which consisted of some 3 different steps, and decided we could sail to the copeland islands (or at least, try).

there was one last thing: finding a good anchorage spot. we looked at the contours on the map, combined with the tidal height, and the information that we would look to anchor at a spot not more than 6 metres deep. once we found it, Hugh explained a technique (i forgot the name) of how we find our way to that spot by keeping a fixed direction and speed, and measuring the distance in advance. we converted cables on the map into fractions of a nautical mile, assumed a speed of 5 miles, and calculated that we had to head in that direction for precisely 5 minutes to get to our anchor spot.

preparation done, we had one last cup of tea, a couple of us popped seasickness tablets, and we were off to sail - this time with a lot more understanding of what we were about to do!

we uncovered the mainsail and attached the halyard to its head, setup the lines to slip (ie replacing all the bowlines with loops around the pontoon cleats, tied with ox knots on the boat), fenders ready, slipping the lines - this part seemed quite familiar after yesterday's practice. once moving we untied the fenders from the sides and tied them at the stern. getting out of the marina we again used the lights to guide us out until we got far enough to get the sails out. by this time we were about an hour behind schedule, but we didn't notice (or say it aloud if anyone did). getting the mainsail out involved pointing the boat directly into the wind and pulling the halyard, first by hand (with someone "sweating" at the mast) and then with the winch. after some misadventures (I don't remember precisely what but I do remember it was less than perfect 😜) the main sail was up, and Hugh taught me how to switch off the engine. we were sailing! we unfurled the jib, and Hugh showed us how to watch the telltales. we also learned to adjust the mainsail based on the point of sail (although I don't remember any more - I must revise this!). Hugh said the main thing is the skipper needs to ensure the boat is at a constant bearing and the sails need to be adjusted till they're taut and filled. any bit of flapping or the telltales dropping (on jib or mainsail) is a sign that things are not perfect. this is in contrast to what I remember doing when sailing in Mumbai 10 years ago - back then I was disctinctly told to keep the boat pointed so that the sails stay full, instead of the other way around!

we tweaked the sails all we could, but the boat was still doing a leisurely 4 knots of speed: this was probably because we were late and the tide wasn't helping us as much as we had hoped it would (or at all, possibly). there was a bit of a debate on board, and Hugh asked the skipper to decide if we would continue to try to get to Copeland island for lunch, or do some random manoeuvres instead (tacks and jibes). I personally was more keen on learning to sail than I was to get to any specific spot for lunch,  and I suspect Hugh felt the same. Copeland sounded tempting though and the skipper got to decide so we decided to press on - I'm sure Hugh's sailing brain was forming plans of things to teach us along the way anyway, and we had the sail back from Bangor to learn some sailing basics too. and of course, it was a lovely sunny day, we had planned our course, and it's not everyday that one gets to a barely inhabited island (someone even knew some of the history of the island!) so no regrets! we furled the jib, took down the mainsail (another adventure - pointing the boat into the wind is not as easy as it might sound, and the slightest deviation makes the sail very hard to handle!). we followed our plan as closely as we could (i dare say I completely forgot it and completely relied on Hugh's directions, although I suspect some of the other folks were doing a far better job than I was 🤷‍♂️

when we got to our desired depth of a little under 6 metres, which was comfortably off the coast but close enough to see it quite well, Hugh taught us to drop the anchor. I was up front with him as he explained the calculation of how much anchor to let out (chain = 4x the depth, chain + rope = 6x the depth). we had 10 metres of chain on the anchor and the rest was rope. Hugh unshackled the anchor from the bow of the boat and counted off the length of rope as we let the anchor down. at the same time, there was an orange buoy ("Timmy") tied to the anchor with 6 metres of light rope which we also tossed overboard with some ceremony - this buoy marks our anchor, so we know if we're being blown about, we don't motor over the anchor rope by accident, and it lets others know "something" is there. there was also something else he mentioned - I think it's about being able to free the anchor if it gets stuck on the seabed, and an interesting anecdote about how Timmy ended up with a brother Jimmy due to the time the anchor had to be cut off and was presumed lost, only to be rescued days (or weeks?) later - apparently Timmy helped locate the lost anchor! anchor rope let out, we then reversed away from it until the rope was tight - this ensures the anchor digs into the ground and doesn't come loose.

secured, it was time for lunch: sandwiches (and tea, obviously) put together by our self-nominated chef and eaten on deck with the lovely sun on us!

surprisingly there was even network, and I managed to uplaod the photo before digging in 😎

Lunch done, it was time to retrieve the anchor. After that, we did something called fairy gliding: a technique where you hold the boat steady at an angle to the water, using the motor to keep it stationary and using the pressure of the water against the keel to drift the boat sideways. pretty cool, and also a tool to help you get into certain tight marinas where the current flows across the entrance making any other means of entry tricky (or dangerous).

Around this time, I was given the helm - a proud moment for me! For this leg of our journey we were not following any precise directions as far as I know - simply motoring away in the general direction of Bangor, avoiding the shore and finding things on the chart-plotter (the touchscreen instrument at the helm) to aim for on the horizon. I enjoyed being at the helm, and everyone else got a chance to relax and enjoy the scenery. fun! we passed by Ballyholme and turned towards Bangor marina... but not without some photos!

the tide was with us getting towards Bangor, and we were there pretty quickly. Hugh guided me into the marina as we radioed in and asked for a berth. the radio script went something like: "bangor marina, bangor marina, this is yacht trinculo requesting a berth. over." to which they responded with the berths available. couple of basics: when starting the conversation always start with the recipient said twice so that someone hearing it has a second chance to pay more attention. also, every message has to include the name of the yacht sending the message and end with over. pretty simple!

We were given a choice of a few berths, so we went in to the marina to have a look before getting partly out and back in to finally park properly. being a rather nice Sunday evening, there were plenty of boats moving about, and it was an interesting experience, keeping away from various walls and markers (and hidden rocks, including some at a spot where Hugh remembered there being a marker but there wasn't any now!), and following the rules of right-of-way: in short, you always keep right (ie the exact opposite of driving on a road). once we saw the spots we could use and picked the one we would, I had to reverse back out to a part of the marina Hugh called the "pond", which was large enough for the boat to turn around. I then reversed all the way back to the pontoon, and at the very end, turned off the engine and coasted into position: it was really smooth, basically first aiming for one point, then as the boat got nearer, aiming for the next one, and the final one to get it into position. if the layout of the boat allows it, it's much easier to steer in reverse if you physically move to the other side of the wheel, isntead of looking over your shoulder and turning the wheel in the oppsite direction as you usually would. Hugh must have done all the thinking about wind direction etc, because it was straightforward for me to get the boat into position while everyone else was fumbling around with ropes and fenders 😁

once we were secured and the engine off, everyone said it was very well done! i was definitely feeling good about myself although I know I was merely following instructions - apparently that's not very easy to do perfectly as well!

we settled in for dinner, and then headed off for a walk into Bangor, to stretch our legs and stock up on bread and milk (we were drinking way more tea than Hugh calculated, I'm sure 😂). this being Sunday evening, most shops were closed, and we ended up taking a much longer walk than intended (almost an hour!), but I enjoyed it.

back at the boat, we settled in for the night, again exhausted by very satisfied. things were making a lot more sense now, and I had an idea of not just what to do, but also why. brilliant!

learning to sail: day 1

 yes, i know, i still haven't finished blogging the stuff covered in my driving lessons even though those were over 2 years ago (it's been 2 years since i passed my test last month - talk about being late!), but my sailing lessons are probably more noteworthy 😁

anyway, before i start: just like everything else that i seem to do, this was by coincidence too. the first time i've been on a sailboat was 11 years or so. i thoroughly enjoyed it, but never ended up sailing again after those 3 weekends on the water. it was always on my list though, so i attended the open day at the carrickfergus sailing club two years ago, and that was the first time i was on the water in this country. right after that, a colleague told be about a facebook group where people in NI look for and offer themselves to be crew on sailboats, with all levels of experience and expertise being welcomed. i joined that group, and offered to crew, was contacted by people who wanted crew, and finally the pandemic happened before i could actually set sail.

and then, last month (or was it july?) someone asked if anyone offers training. and unlike my usual experience of facebook, the post and one of the comments showed up in my notifications. i contacted Hugh of WaveRides, and booked myself in. I was going to learn to sail!

the course is for 5 days, and is usually done at a stretch (including 4 nights on the boat), but my office situation necessitated me to split it into 3 days and 2, which Hugh agreed to despite it not being his usual pattern (I was basically blocking a spot on two courses which is not great for the school, but i'm glad he allowed me that!).

the list of things to bring along was quite reasonable, and didn't need me to buy much besides a pair of deck shoes - regular trainers have large grips which tend to pick up gravel/pebbles that can scratch the boat, and deck shoes are waterproof + designed to be grippy on deck, which is always textured for grip to begin with.

i was at carrickfergus marina at 9am, where i met the my co-students and the people who had come to drop them off (i on the other hand had to drop myself off 😜), and Hugh, our instructor.

basic housekeeping (ie showing us where the marina toilets were) done, we made out way to the boat, with everyone else's luggage in a trolley and mine in my backpack (i packed light!).

we were shown to the Trinculo, a Sigma 400 (the 9th of 15 ever built), a rather nice yacht, defintely better than any i've set foot on before. once we popped our bags in we sat around on the deck, and Hugh started our training.

the first item was safety: how to make sure your life vest is on perfect and why it's best to always have it on. how to reduce your chances of taking an unplanned swim (ie using the harnesses), what to do in case someone falls over, and especially what to do in case Hugh falls over 😜. the other risk is of having to evacute the boat in an emergency: how the life raft works, how it's activated, the emergency bag and what's in it, the types of flares and how they are to be used (and some interesting stories about how they're disposed). then came fires: the types of fires, where they're most likely, and what to do (and not do) in each situation. the location of the fire extinguishers, smoke/carbon  monoxide alarms, and why it's important to be on your guard against fire at all times, with a few anecdoes about instances where things have gone terribly wrong (thankfully, none involving Hugh or anyone on this boat, or the boat itself!).

we were shown around the inside of the boat, especially the sleeping quarters, cabin, galley (ie the kitchen), toilets, engine bay, radio... and most importantly, the kettle and snack stash, which are probably the two things on the boat we used the most 😂

next, we got to the parts of the boat, and especially the names for them. the helm, mast, boom, vang, main sail, jib or genoa, rigging, fenders, cleats, fairleads, winches, compass, chart plotter, and the engine control (i forgot what it's called 😁).

then came the ropes (also called lines). there were a baffling array of them, but Hugh reassured us there were only 5 ropes on the boat we needed to know about: the main sheet, halyard, jib sheets (there are two of them) and the furler.

after that, we had an overview of the knots we needed to know. the round turn and two half hitches used to tie fenders to stanchions (ie the railing), the cleat hitch used to tie a line to the boat or the jetty, and the bowline, which is the knot used to tie a line to the jetty when the boat will be tied up for a while.

we were shown how to coil ropes so that they don't bunch/tangle and also stay organized. we were also shown where the ropes were stored on this boat. and the last step: how to make a lasso and use it to lasso cleats on the jetty - very useful when you need to park the boat!

we were shown how the locks on the lines work, how the winches work on this boat (i assume they work differently on other boats, but the principles would be the same), how to hold ropes, pull them, secure them, and how to release them from the winch with fine amounts of control if required. some of the winches also had a mechanism to lock the rope. "sweating", a technique to make ropes easier to pull. also, how we store ropes when sailing and when not sailing.

with all that knowledge under our belt, we went off and did some practice with the ropes: lassoing cleats, tying them, tying fenders. i managed to do a decent job after a couple of tries - much to my surprise! i've been terrible with knots all my life, but i guess having a purpose automatically made me better 😂

we then took a quick break for lunch, which was sandwiches, more tea (yes, i had already drunk more tea that morning than i usually would in a week 😜).

lunch, more tea and an informal q&a session later, we were ready to set off... once we were told how!

getting a boat untied and freely floating (also called "slipping") involves a few steps: first, since we're planning to sail, we take the mainsail cover off to make things easier once we're out and about, and pack it away. there was also the bit about attaching the halyard to the top of the mainsail - locking it in place is very important! once locked, it has to be threaded into the mast, through the "monkey nuts" (no points for guessing what they look like 😂) next, we untie the 3rd line that was used to keep the boat from swinging about when parked, since we only need 2 lines to keep the boat tied securely: the bow line and the stern line. we then replaced the bowline knots with a loop around the cleats on the jetty and a cleat hitch on the boat (so basically all the knots are on the boat, freeing us to "slip" from on the boat, instead of untying and jumping on). we were then taught how to slip: one person at each line unties one end from the cleat on the boat and holds it firmly. when the skipper calls "ready to slip" and both people reply that they're ready the skipper calls to "slip", which involves letting go of the end that has been untied, and pulling the other end back quickly. it should be done quickly enough that the boat is free in seconds. once the rope is about to be off the cleat, the person at the bow or stern slipping the respective rope calls out "bow slipped" or "stern slipped" so that the skipper knows the boat is free and can be powered out. the other thing to pay attention to while slipping is the fenders: in windy conditions, the boat may be blown about and the fenders are the first line of defense against collisions. everyone without a task assigned gets a "roving fender", which is a fender that they take to whichever spot the boat might collide with something else.

we had a couple of practice attempts at slipping the rope, and once confident, we were ready to go!

we slipped without a hitch (no puns intended) and were floating free in the marina. i coiled up the slip ropes and put them away, while others handled the fenders and the helm.

once out of the marina we were showed how carrickfergus marina makes it easy for boats to get in and out using the deepest part of the channel: there are 3 lights, one green, one red and one white. on the way out, the green light indicates you're on the left of the channel, red indicates you're on the right, and white indicates you're in the channel.

once we were out a bit, it was time to pull up the fenders, tie them to the back of the boat, unfurl the sails, and sail away!

the first step is to point the boat directly into the wind (as that's the only direction the sail can be pulled up and down without catching the wind), under low power (as the rudder only has control when moving). we then pull the mainsail up tight using the halyard (once the sail has reached the top of the mast, the tightness can be guaged from the edge of the sail next to the mast) - towards the end you can feel the weight of the sail and you need some help, from someone "sweating" the rope, or winching (or both!).

we then point the boat at an angle to the wind, depending on where we want to sail, and let the mainsail fill up. that gets the boat sailing!

next up, someone pulls the furler a bit to free the jib, and then depending on the direction we want to sail, we pull the appropriate jib sheet to the point where the telltales rise up and are beginning to float horizontally instead of hanging vertically from the jib.

the rest of the afternoon was a blur of doing what we were told: pull this line, tie that line, etc. we got to use the stuff that was pointed out to us in the morning, although i didn't really understand most of what i was doing.

before we knew it, it was almost 6 and time to furl the sails and head back into the marina. first, the jib, using the furler (you know the sail is furled when the sheet wraps one turn around it), then the main sail - it has to be folded as it's brought down, by releasing it 1 metre at a time and folding it on alternate sides. as it's folded, "sail ties" are used to make sure the folds stay in place. fenders out, slip ropes ready to lasso, and we headed back in. we managed to get the ropes lassoed, pulled and tied it tight, covered the main sail, and we were done for the day!

 a lovely dinner had been popped into the oven for us, and we polished it off, seconds and all. dinner time conversation drifted from thoughts about the day to all sorts of random banter, and we were finally treated to a firework show that happened to be on at carrickfergus castle - a nice end!

day one was super amazing, and i was happy that i had learned so much... and hoped i'd remember it all!

mega-island? no, gigha island!

this post is a little late, but better late than never!

cut back to may 2021: travel within the UK was beginning to open up, and we had the May bank holiday, with no particular plans.

by a random coincidence, one of the sailing groups had a post about the only restaurant reopening on an island. and that the food was amazing.

i put the name of the island into google. it showed a 250 mile ride and two ferries. and that the island was just 7 miles long and wild campers were welcome.

and so, we packed our tent and sleeping bags and headed off.

the ferry to scotland was packed. in fact, it had the most motorbikes we've ever seen on the ferry - there was literally no room in the bike parking area in the bottom deck of the ferry! we wondered if everyone had the same idea we did. but once we rode off on the other side, the rush started thinning almost immediately. by the time we got to loch lomond, our breath had already been taken away by the mesmerizing scottish countryside.

we were somehow cutting it close though: even though I estimated 3 and a half hours of buffer, google maps started doing its usual and acted up: it decided the best route involved us taking ANOTHER ferry, and by the time we realized we were on the wrong highway, we were already half an hour off course. our lunch ate into a good chunk of our buffer (shruti insisted supermarket sandwiches wouldn't cut it), and once we were back on the correct route we had to deal with a lot of urban traffic, followed by countryside highways which were being repaired.

by around 2:30pm, google maps showed our ETA was 5:50pm, and the last ferry to gigha was at 6pm.

some crazy riding ensued (i did not break any speed limits, although i certainly was tempted!). we made it 5 minutes faster than the google maps ETA - literally just enough time to pee at the public toilets at the ferry terminal as we watched the boat dock and people disembark.

luckily for us, the ferry was relatively empty (just one campervan, one car and us) - and we were soon across on this lovely island!

we quickly got our bearings on the island, asked around, and set off in search of a suitable spot to pitch our tent. both extremes of the island (north and south) had all the prime camping spots taken up, and the one decent-ish spot had a big group of campers who already seemed quite loud and tipsy, so we decided to look more carefully elsewhere.

our spot was perfect: slightly behind a mound, so not very obvious, not in a fenced-off field, so fair game - and with a lovely view of the ocean!

parking vicki in the mud was a nervous experience, but we managed to prop up the stand from sinking on the mud with rocks. the tent was also on a bit of an incline, but it was manageable.

we rode back to the restaurant, barely 10 minutes before their last order, and were not disappopinted. absolutely fresh seafood, eaten facing a little sandy cove, with lots of happy people at nearby tables. we also had the weird experience of a rather tipsy lady giving us hug when we said we're from india, to the embarassment of her companion. yes, that was my first hug with someone other than shruti since march 2020. strange!

The next day was basically our only day to explore the island, and after a good night's sleep and coffee/breakfast, we were ready to explore this hidden gem!

Our first stop was the only shop on the island - and since it was Sunday, and there was a TV serial being shot on the ialsnd, and the shop was one of the shooting locations, it was open for precisely one hour: 11am to noon. We joined the queue, purchased the few snacks we needed for the day, and then purchased our takeaway lunch, which was also locally caught seafood. 

we rode to and then walked through "Ardmore gardens" to find a sunny spot for our lunch. I'd have never imagined steamed mussels in a takeaway box with a wooden fork (which eventually gave way and I had to use my hands 😂) could compete (and win) against all the fine-dining experiences i've had!

And the biggest surprise awaited us: there was a stately peacock roaming the garden!

After lunch, we climbed to the highest point of the island, which wasn't really that high, but had quite a view!

We then found a nice beach, and I took a quick dip after a few sips of cider - perfect for the almost-blazing sun!

We walked as far along the shore as we could, and it was close to 6pm when we decided to head back to the only restaurant on the island.

That's when a bit of a nasty surprise awaited us: the restaurant was completely sold out. They said they had no food to serve. Like, absolutely nothing. Plenty of alcohol, but no food. The kitchen was open for another 3 hours, but every single item of food in stock had been ordered. Luckily, we had purchased stuff for Monday's breakfast, and decided to have it for dinner instead. we still had a bit of sunlight left though, so we cut across sheep-dotted fields to get to another of the high points of the island, home to the windmills that power it.

Back in our tent, we settled in for the night, and after an early start, we packed up and were ready to bid farewell to the island! this time, we didn't take any chances with time, and were on the 10am ferry which gave us another hour on our return journey than we had on our way here. the decision served us well, and we had plenty of time, even to squeeze a couple of scenic breaks on the way back. the weather was great, and just being near the sea all day was everything we could ask for.

Probably the best way to spend a long weekend this corner of the UK!