And away...

Lynne of course was back in Cangas boat-sitting Dark Tarn. It wasn't all sun and fun as she insisted on telling me, it was Spanish holiday time and even our more out of the way beaches were crowded.

The council had also been busy on the public art front, decorating our usual walk from the park to the beach with new statues by a local artist. I think Lynne was less than impressed.

They supposedly represent Cangas and its relationship with the sea. I think the photo Lynne took of the children on the beach, part of a summer club, where the children are supervised on activities sums it up better.

Lynne was spending her time swimming and walking, taking advantage of not having a grumpy old man complaining about his knee along! she walked to one of our favourite spots , the beach at Limens. She sent me a photo of boats anchored just outside the designated swimming area (the yellow buoys )

The healthy lifestyle extended to Lynnes daily routine and she had taken up her regular yoga exercises and sensible eating, oats and banana for breakfast and a wholesome soup for lunch. Luckily we had discovered Eroski sold a selection of thick soups, most Spanish soup is of the watery variety.

Incidentally this is Lynnes first "selfie". Lynne rings me at least three times a day using our 3 to 3 minutes and has also discovered how to share photos, so it doesn't seem as if we are too far apart.
Lynnes social calendar was also very busy with a stream of British boats coming into the marina and her healthy lifestyle was constantly interrupted with invitations for drinks and lunches.
Also the time of year as well as being Spanish holidays was festival time. Assumption was marked with bands and processions,
Lynne also went to mass. in a more lighthearted vein, there was the festival of beer and a weeklong celebration of jazz music called imaginatively Canjazz.

To be honest Lynne assures me that the craft beer wasn't all that brilliant but the microbrewery business is still in its infancy in Gallicia.
There was also a festival of old cars.

There was traditional dancing.

and dancing to jazz in the squares...

And of course a week of Jazz music.

all in all, Lynne seemed to be coping on her own very well! and getting to grips with long distance communications and tech........
And of course there is always something happening in Cangas..........

Home

So it was that I was travelling alone for the first time in three years, I caught the very efficient bus service from Vigo and was soon in Portugal heading for Porto airport.

Everything went very smoothly although I had expected the very large queues at check-in due to increased security, I was pleasantly surprised at the quick and efficient way it was dealt with. in 30 mins or so I was past the check-in and waiting in the departure lounge. I was thinking about how sad it was that we lived in an age of religious and political intolerance, little thinking that our adopted home of Spain would be the next target of terrorism. It came in the nature of these things not through an airport but from within the country itself.

I had a rather long wait for my flight and Lynne sent me a photo of our latest crew member, she (Lynne that is ) had been enjoying the sales in Vigo.

After a trouble free flight and another speedy passport check I was free to negotiate the frankly appalling transport system through Manchester. My Train ticket was paid th Horwich but not wanting to wait over an hour for a connection I left the station at Bolton and jumped on a bus, that evening the sun set in spectacular fashion, I now know it was saying goodbye, as it started to rain fairly continuously for the following week.

The view from our house was as pleasant as ever and the hills occasionally revealed themselves as the clouds parted. In between the rain I was trying to get the small garden into some sort of shape.

It had got slightly oiut of hand! Alex helped me out clearing the grass trees and extensive root system that were threatening to undermine the wall.

I also got to spend a little time with my family at the usual Sunday bike gathering at Rivington Barn.
Below is my Father examining a BSA and my sister with my favourite collie Bonnie, looking a little peculiar as she had just had her coat shorn.

I had decided that a low, or non existent maintenance garden was the way to go so bright and early a lorry arrived with the makings of one, two tons of pea gravel and some concrete edging blocks.

 First job was to lay a weed proof membrane before laying the gravel down by hand,

surprisingly three hours of shovelling didn't seem to bother my knee at all.

The result was very satisfying........and looked pretty respectable again.

I even ordered a quite cool pair of aviator style shades but unfortunately the varifocal prescription turned out to be biased more towards reading than sailing yachts so they will have to be remade, more delays.............
But the good news was my knee was behaving brilliantly!

surprises in the post

We had set the alarm for an early start (for us ) of 9.30, as the post office in Cangas shut at 2 oclock and we were by now getting very worried about our lost transducer. Lynne rang Bea and discovered our old berth was free so after a coffee we raised the anchor and headed out towards the bateas .

There was a fabulous ship making its way out of the Ria.

It didn't take long before our dolphins came to welcome us.

we re-occupied our old berth in Cangas marina, just like being home again, we walked to the post office to enquire as to the location of our parcel. it turned out that it had arrived in the UK on the 6th of July. A mere two days after posting, I logged on to the Royal Mail website when back aboard Dark Tarn armed with the current tracking number courtesy of the post office (Correos). I could not track the parcel beyond the point it was scanned in at Heathrow three weeks previously.. I had an online chat with a representative of Royal Mail who was less than helpful if apologetic. It seemed that there was nothing they could do to find my parcel and I would have to file a complaint with the Spanish postal service. I thought this was unfair as it was blindingly apparent that the parcel had been lost in the UK. Lynne and I elected for a walk around town while I cogitated ( that's shorthand for calming down )

Luckily there were distraction aplenty, it seemed that the street statue performers were in town, this was a particularly good chocolate (milk) lady.

And this was a cornucopia variant.

This fellow was a knife sharpener, as we wandered back towards the marina we came across a wedding being held at the small chapel by the harbour.

There was a traditional band and dancing, just the thing to lighten my mood. I decided that the transducer was lost. it seemed inconceivable that it could take three weeks to go from Heathrow to Southampton, even if the postman walked the whole way. I considered importing a replacement from the USA but was unsure of the import tax situation (getting thoroughly hacked off at this point)
Luckily John from Cactus Navigation in the UK (our original suppliers ) agreed to post us a replacement transducer at a reasonable cost, by which I mean £100 cheaper than Garmin.
It had been an expensive month thanks to Royal Mail. We had been delayed and let down, not to mention the loss and replacement of a £400 part. To add insult to injury my knee was not getting any better, I had put it off long enough I needed to see a doctor. I tried to put these troubles aside meanwhile I was enjoying the Galician celebrations of a new beginning. I cant think of a better start, or a better way to put life in perspective.

We visited the same doctor Lynne had consulted earlier in the year, my Spanish comprehension is improving if not my conversation and after manipulating my leg and producing a medical book with full colour illustrations it became apparent he was 90 % certain I had torn the meniscus membrane in my left knee. This could be confirmed with an MRI scan and fixed with a arthroscopy, but as it wasn't life threatening, this would be easier to do in the U.K. After a forceful chat from Lynne and a phone call home to Keith the physio, I booked a flight home and made an appointment at the doctors in Horwich. I made a mental note that a non stop sail to the Canaries would take about two weeks, this was of course a worst case scenario, hopefully we still had loads of time......meanwhile.....
It was time to hit the beach.......

In a few days I would be back in the U.K. and Lynne would be alone on Dark Tarn .