Mine is bigger than yours

These shoes are not really me. But they were on sale, and they make me look really tall. They are also unbelievably comfortable. Except when walking DOWN stairs.

Another morning with a reason to get up early. The yacht was to be docked in Bonifacio, Corsica. The entrance to the port is so narrow that the captain has to back the ship into the port. Quite a sight. I will never again brag about my own parking skills, even though they are not that bad. I could not help feeling a bit sorry for the guy with the biggest yacht in port when we came backing in, though. Poor fellow. He has this all worked out, and here we come and rain on his parade.

Bonifacio is a great place. We have been there before, and it is a beautiful little port. Unfortunately, like the rest of France it would have been an even better place without all the French people living there. Being there - you need to try to get by with the little French you know, and as a thank you for trying, they will answer you in Frenglish. No smiling.

Spent the morning sightseeing. Took the small tourist train from Basse Ville (port) to Haute Ville (on the cliffs). White wine. Almost shopping. Looked at some really great steak knives, of the violent sounding brand VENDETTA (locally made, of course). I Even asked the iPhone octopus, and he ordered me to buy, but I resisted. Somehow, I do not like the thought of flying with six really sharp knives in my suitcase. Even though I like it here in Soutern Europe, I really would like to be able to go home when the time comes.

Around five and six is normally rush hour in most towns and cities all over the world. In Bonifacio this is a bit different, as the traffic jam consists of YACHTS. And it is not the small cute ones you see in St. Tropez. These are real mega-yachts, with some smaller ships allowed in-between, maybe to function as fenders, I do not know. And they all line up to get a place in the port of Bonifacio. Some because they like Corsica, but most because they need to get to port before it gets dark, and the ports of closeby Sardinia, which is concidered more trendy, tend to be full at this time of year.

Anyway. We were looking at this spectacle, with huge yachts lined up, honking impatiently, and having to turn and go back out from the port to line up in the back again - because they need to wait for a spot that is big enough. From our deck we looked DOWN on these other yachts. Waving like royalty (stiff elbow) and sipping our champagne. Priceless.

Dinner on the top deck, watching the sunset. The shoes made me almost as tall as my very tall dad. If you add champagne, I got pretty high.