In the spirit of getting to know each other better, here’s a little fun fact for you…. I am the proud holder of a Marine Licence. Yep. Fully fledged sailor if you will. It’s a little line on my drivers licence that states Marine Licence Holder that I hold dear to my heart, because at the ripe old age of 17 I successfully navigated some coordinates and completed a perfect (if I do say so myself) figure of 8 in the water whilst at the helm of the boat. All because it was offered as part of my senior Maths subject. Maths? Boats? The logic is a little abstract but if it gave me a free boat licence for life I’ll take it.
I also like using boat language such as HELM wherever I can appropriately squeeze it into a conversation, because that’s what us boat people tend to do.
That little figure of 8 has been for the past 13 years the one and only opportunity I have had to showcase my boating skills. However that doesn’t stop me from subtly mentioning my marine licence whenever we see a boat on tv, happen to pass a boat on the highway, or walk past a marina at any stage over the past decade. It wasn’t until we made our pit stop in Positano last year that I could once again bring my boating expertise to the table. To say I was slightly smug about the whole scenario is probably an understatement at best.
You can just picture my delight when Tim agreed we should hire a boat on the Amalfi Coast and spend a day on the water. This was my moment guys. After over a decade of waiting to be the responsible adult who was required to be on board because I was qualified and Tim was not, I strolled confidently up to the hire counter to grab our vessel. I was bursting with pride. My boating enthusiasm was literally leaking at the seams as this was the time where I could be acknowledged by the Italian boating community for all that effort so many years ago at holding a steering wheel and completing the figure of 8 to now being the marine licence holder in our relationship. Until I wasn’t.
The lady who took our euros and made us sign the waiver documents could not have cared less. She even went so far as to say “The boats don’t go fast enough to need a licence, anyone can drive one” in her beautiful Italian accent that made me even more angry at her. Dreams crushed. Dreams crushed in the most brutal way possible all the while with Tim standing beside me, not so silently struggling to hide his delight in my shut down. This my friends is what I believe they call a cross road in life. I could sulk away and let the beautiful Italian women take away my boating dream, or I could sail out onto the seas knowing that I am one fine damn sailor. Naturally I chose the later.
I think whenever you go on a big holiday you inevitably get asked two questions.
“Did you have a great time?”…….. Obvs
“What was your favourite part?”…… I usually struggle with this one. Different parts are all my favourite for very different reasons. But possibly, just maybe, being on that boat in the perfect weather, as we cruised from Positano up to Amalfi to sit on the water in front of the hotel where we got engaged 6 years ago, my heart swelled just a little more than usual. Then with every bob of the water on our way back to shore I think I knew that this day, on this particular holiday was going to be an easy contender for my favourite part of Europe Revisited 2017.