There's an absolute delight in making landfall and getting ashore. Room to move.

We've spent our first day trotting around Brisbane racking up the "Steps" on our pedometer app. It's a lovely city. All new and shiny bright with some really impressive New York style skyscrapers. This us how normal people live. Their trendy apartments and stylish villas running down to the river front. Room to breathe. Room to move - outside and in.

I just measured our living quarters. Down below it's six modest paces by two. Modest paces note. Not strides. There's prisoners in cells in countries run by despotic regimes that get more space. Sure, we've a couple of nooks and crannies, the bog and the kitchen for example but you're not actually going to stretch your legs getting there. So, to prove the point to ourselves that in fact Time Bandit is sheer bloody looxury, we've hired a campervan for ten days. A "Budgie". Report to follow.

But anyway, here we are Down Under. Australia. Convicts to cappacino in a couple of centuries. And a couple of surprises and reminders of home. First, we end up in a marina parked right next door to a Jeanneau 53........ Largs Bay; where we spent our formative sailing years. Second up is that Brisbane is named after Sir Thomas Brisbane, born in Anne's and our (boat's) home town of Largs. He died their as well and is buried in Skelmorlie Aisle. Just behind Jim's drinking den, the George.

So, there's close ties between

Now, Australia and Sydney in particular, features in Letton lore. Consequently I'm not sure how it will shape up and to a degree, I've a bone to pick with it.

Many moons ago, no one knows exactly when but certainly long before the last unpleasantness, perhaps during the '20's or '30's my grandfather, Captain Fred Letton who, unlike us yotties with an RYA certificate or such like, was a real captain. (When marina staff or officials refer to me as "captain" I'm sure I can hear Captain Fred groan.)

On arrival in Sydney these moons ago Cap'n Fred looked up the phone book and to his surprise found a Letton listed. Ours is an unusual name (and so is Letton) and Fred thought this Letton was somehow related. So off he trekked up into the Sydney suburbs where he finally arrived at the Letton address. Fred knocked on the door and, when it was opened said something to the effect of " Hello, my name's
Fred. Fred Letton. It's possible we're related".

"So what mate" was the curt response as the door was loudly and rudely slammed in his face.

So, my expectations of Australia are somewhat confused. We'll see how it goes but I don't think we'll be looking up any Lettons.