Sunday 4th August
We have left
Kupang, with its lovely children and shy mothers.
Our send-off
was riotous and long. Last night’s gala
dinner was great fun, if just a bit confused/confusing at times. There were many tables of Indonesian
dignitaries, who got the best tables.
The rest of us crowded around not-quite-enough tables and had a lovely
time, eating, chatting, laughing.
There were lots
of dancing girls, dancing boys, musicians.
And…LOTS of speeches, mostly in Indonesian…
The evening
concluded with a strange but very enjoyable sort of Indonesian line-dance. Pete danced with the wife of the Minster for
Something Or Another, beautifully dressed in traditional costume with a
glistening golden crown. I danced next
to a resplendent Indonesian man wearing a necklace of enormous shells. John danced quite happily in the line, looking slightly bemused. The line danced morphed into a conga line, between
the tables, across the grass. Sad to say
at least half of the rally sailors had left well before the dancing… I was next
to my French friend Jeanne. “Well we
might as well amuse ourselves,” she said, tersely, dancing nimbly between some
chairs. “Have you noticed nearly
everyone has left? Les yachties! That is what they are like, you will
see! In bed by nine, the lot of them.”
We weren’t in
bed by nine…it was quite late by the time we got back to 2XS. We had to dodge our paparazzi back on the
waterfront – I have got quite used to being a celebrity… I think there were
cameras trained on us every minute, at the dinner. And I imagine that there will be photos of
Pete and Mrs Minister splashed all over the Indonesian press.
This morning
there was a farewell on the waterfront.
Pete and I nipped in to shore, in the dinghy, leaving our poor John
prostrate on his bunk…he is sick again…
There were
beautiful dancing girls, a minister or two, Herman The Mayor, speeches, the
lot! And yet more paparazzi…
Kupang last lost most of its P, all of its N and the G has vanished since we have been there...
Kupang last lost most of its P, all of its N and the G has vanished since we have been there...
We hardly saw
John today, but he found a replacement John, a surfer from Perth, John
Cornelius, who had missed the ferry to Roti and who was very pleased to get a
ride. (The two Johns had met at the
yacht club the day before and had bonded, as engineers do.) We dropped him off in the precariously laden
dingy at about five o’clock, in time for him to get a ride to the other side of
the island. (And yes I did something tricky and unexpected with my camera...have now rectified the problem but quite liked my strange effect...)
It wasn’t an
easy trip. Going through the channel
between the islands we had a very big swell and winds around 30 knots. Very rolly…it must have been ghastly for John
M, and even John C looked a bit green at times.
(A local boat, so pretty...)
It is very strange being here in Roti – no bands on the waterfront, no banners, no hugely smiling people treating us like celebrities…
It is very strange being here in Roti – no bands on the waterfront, no banners, no hugely smiling people treating us like celebrities…
Maybe we will
get a rest!!
There are four
yachts here from the rally; several others turned back in the passage; they
didn’t like the wind…
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