I am back from my dream vacation: one week with David and the Mediterranean. It started in Barcelona– my 6th and far from final visit– and culminated in "sailing" on the French Riviera. I put it in quotes because the sailing part of it, although clearly the highlight of the weekend on a sailboat, was not the major activity. Most of the time we were anchored in the harbor, lounging on deck or in the 3 bedroom cabin listening to Andrew's Coumari music selections, consuming delicious but unnecessary food groups: chamagne, thinly sliced cured meat, tiny cups of espresso, mussels, pain au chocolate, triple cream cheeses that stink up the cabin, Seiz beer, dark chocolate biscuits, and Pastis.
To complete the bourgeois camping experience, we wore bathing suits in the day and sat by the glow of Andrew's computer by night.
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