10 Observations from Four Days of Moving Back onto the Yacht The Crew Lady Mary Is Back on the Yacht I’ve somehow been incredibly lucky with my friends. I have no idea why they do it, but: 1. They compete for the right to drive us to the airport at night, undaunted by a cubic metre of suitcases, thirty-one pictures, baskets and cardboard boxes, two rabbits, a bear, a baby doll and sleepy children. 2. Those who failed to win the previous contest still come to the airport at 6 a.m. just to hug us and leave again, even though we literally saw each other yesterday. 3. Unobtrusively, they wrap our unfastenable backpacks in plastic film and pay for an extra piece of luggage while I thoughtfully stuff the knickers, socks, medicines and so on that wouldn’t fit in the luggage into my pockets and down the front of my clothes. “Now we need to be decisive and go check in,” says Dima, and we obediently trail after him. After the weigh-in, we put on the knickers and socks that still didn’t fit into the luggage. Four pairs each. 4. When we arrive at the yacht, we discover unexpected credits to our bank card (and they’re not from Father Christmas). In Moscow: 5. They drive right across Moscow, from north to south, to meet us at Domodedovo at 7 a.m. “They” means a petite young woman with three children, a demanding work schedule and heaps of other things to do. 6. They also find a bigger car, because ours won’t hold our cubic metres of belongings, thirty-four pictures, baskets and cardboard boxes, two rabbits, a bear, a baby doll and sleepy children. 7. While staying with them, we get the best room, eat all the tastiest food, and for those two whole days I once again feel as though I’m “at Mum’s.” And here is the view from the Moscow window: 8. The owner of the car, a friend of our friend (whom we are seeing for the first time in our lives), drives us to the airport at 4 a.m., delivering all our worldly goods and sleepy children straight into the gentle paws of the customs officers at boarding. 9. Thanks to their prayers and friendly support, we make it to the Canary Islands, the captain, the yacht, and—hallelujah—unload cubic metres of belongings straight onto the unsuspecting deck. 10. Friends, thank you for being who you are! I know not everyone is nearly as lucky, and I thank the Universe that we are! And this is what the yacht (last photo) looks like when cupboards and cubic metres of worldly goods are being dried out aboard.
From the Travely-Family archive · Atlantic
10 Observations from Four Days of Moving Back onto the Yacht. On Friends
An original publication from the former Travely-Family website. This English translation was preserved from the technical-site archive without editorial rewriting.
