And with a little glimpse into Spain, I return to the blogging scene. It's time!
My passionate venture into working for Ark is almost at an end, and I have a lot of free time in my schedule that has been freed up by not one, but two angels who come to my house to watch my little chick for a few hours a week. I am in a new world of time for coffee, for writing, and for long talks with my friend Arabella, which have been sorely missed.
I have been truly spoiled this week with a grand dinner on Saturday night - one very excited little person and one very delicious Peking duck. Fabulous company, a little pre-warming of a very nice new apartment, and a swanky cocktail and oh-so-delicious beef for a wee birthday celebration.
This sort of feeling is one to bottle. Time management. I might blog about it.
That, or parenting. Hmm. Are there already so many wonderful parenting bloggers out there? Do the others have the answer to the great time management dilemma that faces new parents in foreign countries? Perhaps I shall do a little thinking and see what I come up with.
Until then, I did want to share the most beautiful place with you that my former life as superyacht crew allowed me to experience.
The island of Cabrera is just off Mallorca, uninhabited and previously used to house French prisoners during the Napoleonic Wars. Not an enormous success with only 3600 surviving of the original 9000. Cabrera is now a National park and marine sanctuary and in a sea which is not known for its marine life, this islet is a delightful refuge from the frenetic fishing ports of Palma de Mallorca and busy yachting anchorages surrounding all the Balearic Islands.
Boats are provided with permits for a maximum of two nights and there is a battle upon arrival when the bow of a large superyacht nudges into the small bay and is forced to negotiate in shouted, broken Spanish with much smaller fishing vessels that squat on the buoys.
The view from the fort is magnificent.
The water is a deep, bright blue and the fish contrast against it in black and flashes of silver. When you jump from the bow of a very large yacht into the depths, you can only imagine the sea-bed. It requires a big breath and a whole lot of bravado for those not so great at spontaneous water entry.
It is a pure, quiet place.
Bookie bird - in Voula, Greece. On her birthday with a tummy full of decadent once-a-year chocolate cake made by her friend Arabella.