Then it’s time to say goodbye. The days passed… No dream! – Martina has booked a flight from Barcelona back to Tallinn, we enjoy a last breakfast together. I accompany her to the bus, which like a wondrous miracle goes directly from here to the airport. Farewell…
I board the ArgoFram, start the engines, check the instruments, and a port employee comes by and unties the lines. We also say a hearty goodbye – a great harbour team, very motivated. – Off we go.
I haven’t missed the water. I even have to get used to it again – take a deep breath, dose the tension that arises, look ahead….
After a few minutes, at Portlligat, I encounter a lengthy pack of swimmers, accompanied by kayaks and escort boats. I pass them at a respectful distance and turn the next corner into this bay, where even today only a few (but highly exclusive) owner-occupied homes lie hidden, drive to the harbour with its perhaps ten little boats, pause briefly, and greet Dali and Gala’s artistic epicentre in spirit.
Then I set off, northwards, across into France and directly towards Sète, from where one can lock onto the Canal du Midi (a technical marvel of the 17th century!) to get from the Mediterranean directly to Bordeaux and thus into the Atlantic. But today I don’t feel like going to Sète; I just pass through the port facilities, don’t even get out. On the one hand, I don’t like it here at all, on the other hand, bad weather is coming… I have enough to eat, want to go on now, turn east, directly to the mouth of the Rhone! Therefore, on to Port St. Louis.
So I cover over 250 km again today – solo. That’s all right.
I feel the wind coming up from the north, moor in the crowded harbour of Port St. Louis, go to the Capitanérie, register and try to get as much information as possible about the upcoming river and canal trip to Basel. Well, it’s not much. French box thinking (‘I don’t care what the others do’). At least I learn that the lock to the Rhone opens tomorrow morning at six for half an hour. I want to go through, I sign up. Then I go to eat and am allowed – once again – to fill my canisters with a borrowed handcart to get the necessary fuel for the onward journey from the petrol station at a shopping centre, back and forth to carry them across the pier each time to fill the tank ‘sip by sip’ at my place…. The procedure lasts into the night.