Sailors from home

Last week I was delighted to hear my own accent in Pachamama. At first I thought the couple talking was American, making the mistake that many make about me. This couple opened one of the first restaurants in my home town thirty years ago. They ran it for fifteen years and then sold it at a good time. Wanting to escape the confines of the restaurant business they invested in a sailing boat and have wintered in the Mediterannean since then. They were coming back from Malta (where they got Kerrygold butter - if only I had known they were coming!!) and did a little tour of Sicily before heading back to their winter port. Lots of stories about chaotic souks in Syria, and the UN and Israeli interrogations they underwent before being allowed to moor in Haifa (even asked their children's names and why they had chosen to stay in Haifa at 5am ... scary). Plus some restaurant lore. All in the mother tongue. Great. Mio marito, who has just acquired his sailing licence, is most encouraged and sees us travelling by sailboat in the future. If only I didn't get so seasick ...

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