Yesterday we began our journey and motored our trusty future home Lexia down from Pill by the Severn Estuary to the middle of Bristol harbour. If all goes well she’ll stay there until we leave, and we’ll gradually fill her with everything we’ll need and send the rest of our tat to the four winds (well, our mothers’ attics mainly).
It was beautiful weather for once and we set off, our spirits lifting as soon as we were out in the river. Generally speaking, Sam manoeuvred the boat while I filmed him and got in the way. I’m sure we’ll get better at this dynamic with practice.
Halfway down we ate the boiled eggs I’d grudgingly prepared and put that whole shambles behind us.
Waiting a suspiciously long time at the lock into Bristol, we saw a huge mob of musical pirates in bright pink assembling, and realised it was The Ambling Band– party-starting veterans of CarnyVille, countless other Bristol parties and all its big protests. We soon heard over the radio that they were waiting for the Matthew. Sure enough after unbearable suspense it swung majestically into view, and the pirates boarded. When the lock opened we entered Bristol harbour with the finest and most festively Bristolian escort imaginable.