« Crispy PowerbookMainSimon's Visitation »

Shaken Not Charred

It hardly ever rains in Ibiza in the summer. I mean once or twice in the entire season. So you can imagine how unfortunate I was when, the other night, I was heading back to the boat in the dinghy across the two miles of bay from San Antonio and I ran into a wall of torrential rain. My clothes needed washed anyway so I wasn't too worried until lightning filled the sky and began to strike around the bay. I looked around to discover that I was in the only boat in the entire bay, making me the highest point to get struck. Just the night before I'd been joking with Lawrence, Carita's boss, about how the boat had already been struck three times by lightning, and it looked like God hadn't appreciated my sense of humour.

Whilst trying to figure out if lightning was more likely to strike a fast or slow moving target, I lay down in the dinghy, altered my course and headed towards the hotels on the coast, trying to avoid the swell taking me onto the rocks in the darkness as I followed the edge of the bay. Eventually I got back to Zamindar just in time for the rain to stop, slightly shaken but happy not to be fried.

Post a comment

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)