Tag Archives: Genova

Mugged twice in one week

I stepped out tonight with a bit of Biffy in my ear – I have to admit to liking their sound.  While on that subject, my breakfast TV this morning consisted of Duran Duran being interviewed and playing live – stunned to admit it, but they sounded good.  I had to double take to make sure they were playing live – and they were.

Thursday night last week, I was on a bit of a mission.  On Tuesday evening I ran 10k, Wednesday morning just under 5 k and on Thursday evening was going for  7k – all timed of course, with me competing against my nemesis – Me!  The Thursday run felt supremely good.  I felt strong, the pace was on for a quick time and I was running with the strength of a Stallion.  It wasn’t quite a gallop but certainly more than a trot.  Maybe one of my horsey type friends can tell me what that is – I was going to say canter but I am not too sure.  My legs were pulsing with energy and making good long strides. With about a kilometre and a half to go – I was feeling invincible.

A feeling of Invincibility is normally a falsehood, if not a warning sign. Of course, it was me against my nemesis so I wasn’t slowing – at least not until my left foot hit a pot hole and rolled inward making those poor tendons crack and groan under the strain.  The sound carried through my body and into my ears and completely drowned the Prodigy who were running with me at that time.

I knew I was done for.  It is funny how your mind works – I am still hopping to a stop and the first thought in my mind is that now, I am going to get cold.  It was around 4ºC outside and I was hot and sweaty – that wouldn’t last long.  When I finally got stopped, my thoughts then turned to how long I would be out of action for before I finally picked up my phone and called for someone to come and pick me up

I then entered the ‘fat footed twat’ era of my life.  A little like the ‘fat handed twat’ of old – the common denominator there being ‘twat’.  For two good days, I had a swollen foot that had a shape more like a half inflated condom.  Last night I managed my walk to Italian lessons without a worry and tonight, a speed walk for 45 minutes and it is feeling good – I must congratulate myself on a speedy recovery.  I will hold off the running until monday though, just to be sure.

Now the second mugging was one of those moments that you hope no-one was watching you.  The photo machine in the railway station was going to get the better of me.  After asking for directions from a policeman (all in Italian I might add), I found the machine and cursed when I saw the money slot was only for coins.  I begged some change from the café and headed for the machine. With a handful of coins I was quite spritely at feeding the damn thing but then the third coin was rejected.  I had enough time to think the words ‘what the’ before a small box popped out and landed at my feet.

Rubber Johnnies – what am I going to do with them I wondered.  Maybe I could half inflate one and stick it on my other foot so they both looked the same. Then I realised – not Johnnies but a Disney key ring with Daisy Duck on it.  I already have a use for it.

I cursed myself for a few seconds as I got in the booth and sat down, drew the curtain then realised that the money slot inside the booth also took 5 & 10 euro notes !!

Lastly, a quick hello to some old chums over in Oz – Chan, Emma & Sage.

I change the key form C to D you see to me its just a minor thing……

Most probably the longest title I have ever used, and that statement reminds me of the great Eddie Vedder introducing his song ‘Elderly woman behind the counter in a small town’.  Not that I am comparing my greatness to Mr Vedder but I am curious as to why, in the last 3 days I have had 79 hits form Cyprus to my humble site.

Also had some from Canada and the States too.

So how is Italy? Something of a cluster fuck if I am honest.  The Italian mentality is to flatly deny anything is wrong, and when it is wrong, if you delay long enough – maybe, just maybe the problem will go away on its own.  Now, call me stupid but I have never had a problem go away on its own.  To make matters worse, the boat is italian built so has a shit load of problems.  On top of that, the guy I took over from really hasn’t done much at all, documented even less and I honestly think that he doesn’t intend to return either – he was very keen to leave me his gate pass when he left.

But lets not dwell on that – on Saturday I took Dion the first officer out for a cycle ride.  It was one of those rides where your legs are cramping on the way back and every little hill feels like a mountain.  46 miles and over 8000 feet of climbing later, we got back to the boat.  I say we, I mean I got back here first, had a shower and a coffee, got a little concerned that Dion wasn’t back and headed out to find him.  Thankfully, all was well.  Genoa to Portofino return in just over 4 hours and 17 minutes

So what next – now I have just 4 working weeks left until I break for christmas, Friday 20th December I will jump in my car and head back to Brussels, a short stop for xbox, belgian beer and a run in the woods before I hot foot it to Florida for some winter sunshine courtesy of Virgin Airlines and then head back to Belgium for a week more of xbox, beer and running.

What I am really holding out for – is the end of January when I get February and March off with pay………..and that saddens me.  There used to be a time where I lived and breathed responsibility of keeping a boat alive but now I feel that is slipping and I may be turning into an also ran.



I don’t want to be an also ran

Young Teen Clunge

selling out?   Me ?  Never, but young teen clunge does attract plenty of traffic to my page, as does ‘Scandinavian beauties’ so lets see what happens in the next couple of days.

I just had a historical read of an old posting from 2008 about Facebook.  Funny how time passes but even back then in 2008 I was ranting about closing the account.  Glad I did too.

I would like to mention the Cooper clan again.  I know the girls are regular readers but now I am proud to announce the parents are also reading too – welcome Mon and John although I wonder if it is just Mr. C that pops in to see whats going on.  Talking of subscriptions, whatever happened to Thornham in Oz and Timothy in S.A. ? Are you ladies still reading?  Better still, closer to home, McCoy (I forget your wedded name).

Now firmly planted in Genoa, I enrolled in Italian language lessons starting next week.  I met the teacher last night, she has a huge pair of tits, unfortunately for her, they are already down by her belly button and I doubt she is 40.  More intriguing than the southerly chest was the gruff, beyond husky voice.  Kind of left me wondering if those huge swinging orbs had more hair on them than my chest but then that wouldn’t be hard now would it? I wonder if she has ever stepped on one of her nipples ?  So my lessons start on Monday and I have already started practising the hand gestures and over pronunciation of the few words of Italian that I already know. Expect me to be more dramatic next time you see me and a less skillful driver – unless of course I am driving a boat near to a small Italian island.

I also contacted the dive school in Rugby about finally taking my instructor exams.  They asked if I had completed the dry suit specialist course as the water at Stoney Cove in February would be around 4ºC.  I did explain that I could always go to the Caribbean and do it there.  Who on earth wants to go diving in 4º water when I am used to mid to late 20’s?

I do want to tempt fate for a moment here – all the ‘negativos’ that talk about how unreliable and crap Range Rovers are – I love my car.  We have now covered 18,000kms without fault.  Of course I lie there, I had to change a side light bulb before leaving Brussels – I am not really counting that in the J.D. Powers customer satisfaction survey.  It is especially lush when it comes to triggering speed cameras, either I am going too fast or the cameras also like the look of the car and want pictures.  A camera in Switzerland recently took a photo of me from the front and the rear – that was very confusing for a moment until I realised what had happened.

Tomorrow, I am hitting the hills of Genoa on my bike.  I have found nothing on line about specific tracks to ride so have had a look at maps and will head out with no particular intention and see what mischief I can get up to.  For those with Runkeeper, be sure to take  look.


Until then – I am available for abuse exclusively on my UK phone number




A Trip to Trumpton

Always good to start the week off with something dashing – I quit my job this morning.  Been niggling away at me now for a few months and finally I decided today was the day, after working a months notice, I will have completed a whole year on board.  For some reason, other potential employers like to see a year as a minimum.

Of course, the skipper was dismayed and has this afternoon been trying to tempt me to stay but you know when the little seed is planted and it will only ever grow – that really makes me think the best option is to move on.

Had a busy weekend exploring the delights of Palma.  First stop was the most important for the weekend – Lórien in Palma, an absolute must for any serious beer drinkers.  When I say serious beer drinkers, I don’t mean people that can swill down 10 pints of Budpiss or wife beater – I mean the serious drinker that only drinks two beers on their visit, yet savours the mouthful of flavours that they ingest – best of all, it is twice the strength of that pish you get everywhere else so you only need a couple and you are done for.

Hot on the tail of Lòrien was Magaluf or Shagaluf as some of you might know it.  Just on the outskirts of this huge free sperm exchange is a place called Pirates.  I last went there around 5 years ago and loved it, this time it was almost just as good. I say almost because for my part there was too much girl dancing when the acrobatics could have been more.  Still though, – if you find yourself in Shagaluf and you are not full of strangers sperm, Pirates is a must see.

Not quite last on my score list was a Saturday evening meal in a little place called Na Burguesa, a shack that clings to the hillside overlooking Génova and the whole of Palma from one side of the bay to the other, and out back to the mountains.  A nice little number too – got there in daylight and stayed until after dark.  After dinner, we headed into Palma to Hostel Cuba, a new place for me, somewhere I haven’t been since it opened but ……..I haven’t really missed anything.  Full of people trying to look too good rather than having a good time – reminded me of a trip once to Pacha where the locals were easy to spot, they danced rooted to the spot in fear of spoiling their hair or creasing their clothes.  Of course it wasn’t long before we had seen enough and headed for an old favourite ‘ Café Lisboa’.  Still liking this place although I have to admit it is missing something since the smoking ban came into force – it was a bit like a seedy Jazz club before but with a different playlist, mostly rocky stuff with thick smoke so if you were looking for someone at the other end of the bar, you had to walk down there to see them, no standing on your tip toes and making eye contact.

Saving the best to last was of course ‘The Diner’ for sunday brunch – a superb score to  finish off the weekend.

Still full of cold and feeling the effects of all of the food i have eaten this weekend I need to focus.  We leave Palma on Monday and head for Sardinia where we have two races to compete in – and I use the word ‘compete’ very very loosely indeed.

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