We get up, shower in the harbour building, have a small breakfast on board, the taxi arrives – Michelle gets in, gets out again, one last kiss, and she’s gone. – Will we ever see each other again?
I go back to my ArgoFram, fill up with fuel (the prices here are much lower than before in Monaco), pack my bundle, thank and say goodbye to the harbour master, and off I go. The weather forecast predicts bad weather in the Marseille area for the next few days, so I decide to head straight there now.
On the way, I first look somewhat melancholically at the runway of Nice Airport, then ahead, because there are lots of sailing boats floating around in front of me, and finally I encounter an impressive French coastal patrol vessel, which is sailing very proudly and pulling an almost two-metre-high wave behind it. It’s crazy, how do “normal” boats deal with this, do they all capsize? In fact, I change course, first sailing sideways along this wave until I jump over it diagonally in front of me. But this action shows that I no longer feel so decisive – I am tired. I have to pace myself. I practically drag myself to Marseille… The wind and waves are increasing by the hour, and I’m glad to finally round the last islands before this port city and turn into the old harbour in the centre of Marseille.
Here, too, sailing boats are setting sail, large classic ones with several masts and perhaps 20 sailors on board – is there a regatta going on here too? Indeed, and here too: no mooring space, it is full (according to the harbour administration). I don’t believe it. I drive at walking pace along all the quays – and think I have spotted a gap. I go to the office of this sailing club, register, and am referred to the local harbour master: Régis. I have to wait a while for him, he’s busy, and I feel myself sinking deeper and deeper into myself. And yet I’m already considering sailing another five hours all the way to Narbonne to enter the Canal du Midi … before the weather closes in completely and makes a crossing impossible for the next few days.
When Régis arrives and sees me, he barely says a word, asks me to take a seat and be patient … As it turns out, my spot is reserved for a regatta companion (who is now outside), while Régis looks for and finds me another spot at a neighbouring yacht club. He immediately directs me there. Stay there, he says curtly. And: I should come back tomorrow morning to take care of the paperwork (and to pay).
Over the next few days, it turns out that Régis has done everything he can to keep me here in the harbour – I must have looked terrible, exhausted. And the weather outside would have done the rest, which he wanted to prevent. He was right! I’m completely worn out: as breathtakingly beautiful as the past two weeks have been, as good as I may have felt, I desperately need a break!
I’ve been on the move since the beginning of May, every day bringing new experiences, new challenges, new decisions. I’ve been going non-stop for four months, giving it my all … And even though I get so much back in return, it all drains me and wears me down. Rémis shows me what he considers to be the best restaurants here in the centre of Marseille; he tells me not to go shopping and cook for myself, but to let myself be served. And to sleep. – He says this in such a relaxed yet insistent way that I do exactly that. And it helps. I am becoming more and more aware of what I have just achieved: circumnavigating Europe in a rigid inflatable boat! The circle is complete. It is a complete coup.