bra - I mean, boat summer

By the time you’ll read this, summer is coming to an end.
The last rays of sun are caressing the early October sky before we head into a long, dark winter.

For me this is usually a time of coming back to reality; finding a steady rhythm after the freedom (read chaos) of the summer. As a virgo, I thoroughly enjoy the months where summer turns into autumn. I get to celebrate my analytic, perfectionist side. It’s a time to nerd out on any possible project or perfect my skills. This year, I even decided to go back to school (!!)

I don’t know if my summer could be classified as a brat summer.
Between frantically househunting, moving and looking for a job, I didn’t really have the time to get my Julia on. However, there were a few occassions where I might have gotten close. At least, if you were on the outside, looking in….

I found myself on three boat tours this July alone. Not one of them went without the possible risk of emptying  the entire content of my stomach. Yet, it did get me thinking:
Do you ever wonder about what it would be like to be rich? Do you ever fantasise about all the dumb, filthy, stupid stuff you would do with no regard to anyone or anything else? Like going on one of those horrible transatlantic cruises for example?

I’m not much of a materialist whatsoever, but if I were rich, I think I would want to own my own yacht–A big one too, with a kitchen, a bedroom and as many chaise longues as I could fit.
I would invite all my friends onto my boat, to host the best dinner parties or to simply lay in the sun the whole day, turning around every 15 minutes like buns on a grill.

Too bad that I get seasick every single damn time I set foot on a boat.
Let me tell you how it went down the last three times.

no. 1

It started with the worst one of them all– possibly even the worst one ever.
I had taken a boat tour in Turkey before, on which I had been sick , yet still enjoyed it. This one however, can’t even be called enjoyable. It was one of the hottest days yet in Kuşadası, a town near Izmir, reaching an almost scorching 40° Celcius. We had arrived in Izmir the day before on a guided bus tour, leaving from Istanbul at night. We hadn’t been able to sleep on the road at all, and were up all day visiting place after place. Don’t forget, we also had to deal with fifty other people on the bus, who seemed to  love getting annoyed at any minor inconvenience.

Granted, we were tired.

When the tour guide proposed a boat tour, I was hesitant because of my prior experiences, but I took the chance. We had nothing better to do anyway, and it was rather cheap. Maybe we could even relax a bit after the chaos over the last few days. The tour was supposed to last six hours, and promised to take us to three beautiful places close to the coastal town.

Soon after getting on, we realised why it was cheaper than the others. It moved at about the speed of a rowing boat, which only seemed to make us rock from side to side instead of actually moving forward. If only we would’ve seen some hidden gems, with the clearest water. Instead they stopped three times around the busy, tourist coastline, where the water was cloudy and the beautiful sights were nowhere to be found. On top of it all, the most annoyingly loud remixes of radio hits were blaring right by our faces. Seriously, what is wrong with the original version of ‘Rolling In The Deep'‘??

All I wanted was some quiet time to enjoy reading my book. Instead, imagine me laying under the blazing sun with a towel on my head, trying to remain calm. After about five hours of this unbearable torture, other people started to get just as fed up as well. One girl ended up throwing up on another girl, which then made her throw up, too. I guess this was the final cue for the boat crew to end whatever they were doing, and so we headed back to shore early. I walked off this forsaken boat with burnt knees, a mild case of tinnitus and an informed aversion to boats.

no. 2

I didn’t think that I’d get on a boat any time soon after that. Until I was convinced to do so, only a week after. Apparently this tour, in Göcek, was worth risking it all again. Göcek is a town that is known for its harbour with plenty of yachts, waiting for their rich owners to take them for a little ride. Apparently, famous Turks love to spend their brat summers in this cosy town– And I don’t blame them.

This time, we double checked before boarding: “No music on this boat?. Thank god!”. To my suprise, this tour actually took us places! There are twelve islands around the coastline, with green cliffs and the prettiest of bays. We saw a famous painting on a rock, climbed through the ancient Cleopatra Hamam, walked around one of the islands and swam in the clearest, warmest of waters. My seasickness was under control, and I even got to read some pages of my book. Succes!

It was here where I could gradually start to see the advantages of living on a boat. For example, I discovered there is such a thing as supermarket yachts. (?!) It’s literally a Carrefour sailing around on the water of the Aegean Sea, servicing those who own a yacht…. or an island.  Now this is the kind of life I can get behind.

no. 3

A few weeks later, I was in Malta with my friends. Knowing they’d want to book the famous “sunset boat tour”-- I already panicked. This time I just had to power through. The struggle, however, already started before we even got on the boat. Mediterranean taxi drivers are simply built differently. Traffic rules are taken as a suggestion and any speed limit is unheard of. So there we were, sitting in the cab on our way to the start of the tour, holding on for dear life. When you’ve experienced the feeling that you might throw up at every given point in a moving vehicle, you know that the only thing you can do is look straight ahead while counting down the minutes.

Just 8 more minutes,
5 now,
We’re almost there,
Just keep breathing,
2 minutes,
Here, have some water,
We made it!

After what felt like an eternity on the road; we now still had to get through the hardest part; the one on the sea. A boat – way smaller than  expected - arrived at the shore with the friendliest captain of all ready to show us around. The tide was already quite strong as we took off, rocking from side to side. My friends started drinking wine but I wasn’t going to test my stomach.

In the end, we had an amazing time! The captain took us to some nice places, where we could swim, snorkel, paddle and feel like we were from the deep blue underworld. Sometimes, when a big boat would arrive in the same waters as ours, our little boat would start swaying heavily. The one time I decided to climb back onboard, we swayed so hard, the captain gave us a look of sheer panic, trying to get the boat under control. Let’s just say I was happy, yet again, to be on solid ground.

Who knows if one day I’ll fully get on with boatlife?

Living close to the sea does make me a calmer and happier person. So, don’t be surprised when I live on an island in a few years. Maybe I’d organise my own tour across my local waters. Maybe I’d just cruise in my private yacht by myself at full speed, living like a Mamma Mia’s Donna.

To be honest, I’d be happy if I get to -even just once- buy my zucchini and tomatoes on a floating Carrefour, alongside the rich and famous of Turkey.

See you next summer.