Boat trips, native horses and tug-o-war…

Day 8. 3 August 2003

Sunday. The second of two leisure days. So, what’s on the itinerary? A boat trip, riding native horses (but round a paddock rather than the countryside) and a trip to a farm museum. I don’t think any of us were expecting from this the eventual day that we got…

On route to where we will get the boat from we stop to pick up our guide from Friday afternoon, and we continue around the coast, eventually arriving at the narrowest of lanes, down which the bus lurches from side to side, arriving at last outside a run down group of buildings. Grabbing just our cameras and our sun hats and sunglasses from our bags, we are led through a yard full of bits of old boat and fishing nets, to the jetty (with it’s gaping hole wretched through the middle). As we approach the fisherman finishes emptying a small launch of eels. This boat, the seats now (mostly) clear is to be our transport.

Our fisherman, throttles up the engine to a good musical beat, we cast off moorings and away. Steering our way between reed beds, the water is flat calm and is not much worse when we venture further into open water. We see plovers and auks, and sea swans, and the sun pours down upon us. I trail my hands in the water for a while, as we head out to and around a lighthouse. Quite why we have our guide on board we never find out, as no explanation is given – nor is one frankly possible – above the noise of the engine…

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