Issue #16: The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another

How I’m turning a life transition into a memorable event.

A weekly dose of tidbits, spanning food, recipes, health, wellness, fitness, nutrition, destinations, books, advice, ideas and musings. Let’s spark conversation.

to read
Promising Young Women by Caroline O’Donoghue. At first glance, I expected this book to be the same as so many that we see on today’s shelves, detailing the struggles and woes of a twenty-something woman coming up in the world. While that was definitely true, in part, it had intriguingly darker tones that reminded me of Natalie Portman’s demise in Black Swan. The protagonist, Jane, is 26; she works in marketing and has recently broken up with her boyfriend, Max. We witness her enter into something with Clem, her mentor at work, and the spiralling demise commences. I would say that it was an enjoyable read, and one that I’d really enjoy picking apart with friends, because I have so much to say about it. Particularly about the author’s opinion on women in the workplace, and on men in general. Not all good things to say, but things nonetheless.

to listen
I’ve been hearing a hauntingly good song come up on my Spotify playlist for weeks, and had always been too wrapped up in something else to check what it was and to note the artist. So all I had to go on was the part of the song that was stuck in my head. A deep, low voice, repeating ‘ave maria’, in the least conventional ‘ave maria’-ey way; this was not the religious classic. I could not find the song for love nor money, until I stumbled across a Reddit thread written by someone with the exact same problem! So, after much sleuthing, I found it. It was Heaven, by Grace Cummings, and this discovery led to much joy this week, while I explored her back catalogue.

to make
This chickpea, coconut & lime curry. The recipe uses pumpkin puree to thicken it, which I never have. Instead, I bake a load of sweet potatoes, make sweet potato hummus with most of the flesh, and keep some back to use in this curry. It uses mainly store cupboard ingredients, and fresh ingredients that I always seem to have on hand. It is honestly so good, I’ve made it once a week for the past month.

People call yachting the golden handcuffs, because we’re all beholden to the industry to some extent. Yachties try to leave the industry, but inevitably get sucked back in by the allure of travel, the glamour (somewhat), but mainly, I think, the tax-free income. When I first started in yachting, I wanted to be sensible, so I started contributing to a private pension and opened a five year savings plan. The financial advisor I spoke to ominously warned that I should start thinking about my yachting exit strategy. I was mortally offended. I told him that I felt lucky, privileged and thrilled to be working in this industry. Why should I be thinking about leaving it? Well, it turns out that he was completely right to put the willies up me. Nothing lasts forever, not least the yachting dream. And while I’ve known of the golden handcuffs since day dot, I’ve always thought, we’ve got to let people try and leave the industry, and if they come back, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’ve failed. It’s a process! Sometimes you have to dip your toe in the water a few times before diving in.

My most recent attempt to leave was in 2022, when I took a year out to do my masters degree. While I was all ready to forge a new career with my new knowledge, what actually came from the year was a desire to start a business. The desire is still taking shape, but with the hit my savings took from the degree, and living as a student for 12 months in our capital city, back to yachting I went.

Eight long months later, here we are at my next attempt to leave the industry. This time, truly, really, hopefully, for good. (Yachting is great, and I don’t meant to knock it. I just can’t peel carrots for the rest of my existence). Christian is leaving with me, and we’ve decided we want to do it in a really memorable way. Christian started as an engineering cadet in the North Sea no less than 15 years ago, so, it’s the end of an era for him, and cause enough to mark the occasion.

The gravel bike I rented for a spell in Palma, in 2021. This was where I fell in love with cycling.

Zoom zoom!

I’ve always bought or rented a bicycle whenever my boat has been somewhere for an extended period of time, for the sheer freedom two wheels provides. I’ve always sold them on when the boat moved on, because I was never high enough up in the food chain to be gifted a precious space onboard to store it.

Decathlon’s finest. The ubiquitous Rockrider.

During the summer of 2022, in Barcelona, we treated ourselves to a couple of Rockriders - mine in fluorescent yellow. They got us to many a game of tennis, climbing seshes in Poble Nou, and up to the gravel tracks around Montjuic.

Christian’s black Rockrider proved far easier to sell than my, more divisive, yellow one.

The boat we’ve been working on for the past eight months has been in dry dock the entire time (a blessing, for my seasickness-prone self). We got a couple of bikes, and grew really fond of them. Christian got the Specialized Sirrus X 3.0, and because they didn’t have any in size large for me, I got a similar in style, but way less cool, Trek FX 2. Instead of using our repatriation flights when we leave after our month’s notice, we’ve decided to ship our belongings home, and ride our bikes from the south coast of France, to the north coast of France, get on a short ferry, and re-house them in Jersey.

Going up the Routes des Cretes in La Ciotat, on my trusty Trek FX.

Christian’s Specialized Sirrus (why so Sirrus?) in a very fetching arctic blue.

Luckily, there is a website of all the cycle paths in France, which made Christian’s route setting a lot easier. We’re going through the middle of the country, through Bordeaux, Saint Emilion, and the Loire Valley. Most days are around the 100km mark, with varying levels of elevation, but no crazy hills. We’re mostly following a network of rivers and canals, so it’s more or less flat. Christian’s made a website detailing each stop on the journey, complete with GPX files for each leg. We’re populating each destination with accommodation options, restaurants, coffee spots, and points of interest.

What to pack has been the topic of my thoughts (and nightmares) since we decided to do it. It’s early spring, so, we kind of have to prepare for all weather. My optimistic self is rotating between three outfits of strappy tops and short shorts, but I’m packing extra layers, a waterproof and galoshes, just in case.

2 x mounting racks for our back wheels, to fit the panniers onto.
2 x 27L Decathlon panniers, in this you-can’t-miss-it yellow colour. Christian’s got one on either side of his back wheel.

1 x 24L Ortlieb pannier, in khaki green. I’ll have this single pannier sitting lengthways on my back wheel.

Packing cubes, to keep our belongings as neat as poss.
Hand wash detergent, for sink washing. I already can’t wait for this (upside down smiley face).
A camping clothes line, to dry said washing overnight, every evening.
Puncture repair kits, spare inner tubes, tools tools tools, a chain repair kit.
2 x power banks (without our phones, we will be horribly lost).
A lifetime supply of electrolytes.

Helmets, because, safety first.
Front and back lights, though I’m hoping we won’t do any riding outside of daylight hours.
Hydration backpacks. A water bottle won’t cut it for these day long rides.
Sexy UV protecting cycling sunnies. The number of little rocks that fly at speed towards your face, is not cool.

The vibe is that we will stop off at smaller, lesser known towns and villages, sampling the best of what each region has to offer. Toulouse sausages! Cassoulet! Sancerre! We are hoping to move on every morning, so let’s see how we go with that, and whether or not we’ll need rest days. I’ve been told we will ‘ride ourselves fit’. I really hope that’s the case.

If you have any bike-packing words of wisdom, please do share in the comments section below.

Somewhere near Aix-en-Provence. It reminds me of Northern Ireland’s Dark Hedges.