On Friday I enjoyed a warming cup of hot chocolate with adventurer and ocean rower extraordinaire, Sarah Outen. We arranged to meet in Brighton and I had hoped to saunter between the boutiques and purveyors of rare tat, before pulling up a chair in a bohemian cafe near the sea. Instead I sprinted twenty yards from the train station, felt the cold heavy rain run down my neck and then ducked into a disappointingly ordinary peddler of hot drinks.
Fortunately I got a chance to escape all that by listening to Sarah’s memories of rowing, alone, across the Indian Ocean. She experienced plenty of drama as you might imagine, and this will all out in her book that is being published early next year, but the details that seized me were the ones that many others may have found prosaic.
Sarah described how the birds changed as she…
I was in Brighton yesterday afternoon and the coast was being hit hard by a southerly gale. When the wind is this strong it is interesting feeling how its direction twists and turns round the streets of a town like Brighton. It never turns a full 180 degrees, but regularly gusts out from alleyways at right angles to the main wind. The smudge in the sky in the top left of the photo is a flock of birds.