It was the Brest of times, it was the worst of tides.
So after a few days patient wait at anchor in Falmouth, we made a dash across the channel aiming for the nearest official port of entry. Brest.
Post Brexit, we must now check in to the Schengen area at a port of entry and start the clock that allows us to stay in the member countries for 90 days out of any 180.
A not very pleasant 36 hour passage with sloppy seas and adverse tides bought us to this surprisingly enjoyable and welcoming town.



Philippa the flag officer hoisted the French courtesy flag.

Attempts to get our passports stamped, failed; the Douanes office was shut. Later, when Philippa spotted some of these guys she asked if they could stamp our passports. However they had more important business (they were hassling some young Dutchmen) and realising we were leaving shortly; they indicated not to bother!
This was good news for us. We cannot begin to use up our Schengen time till the clock is started!
After a couple of days recovery and a pleasant stroll around a very French town, packed with a history of WW2 and past conflicts; we were ready to move on.
Biscay beckoned, and off we went leaving midday on Sunday and arriving in A Coruna Spain early morning Thursday.
Biscay was kind, the weather was dominated by a high pressure system that kept the skies blue and the rain away. Plenty of wind though, and we enjoyed F4-5 on the beam for most of the passage.

We are rusty sailors, and it was a steep re-learning curve as we remembered the watch routines and rediscovered the cadence of life at sea, as well as how to sail the boat!

Making landfall in the dark was a little frightening, it is always fraught with difficulties, and best avoided. On a dark night the approach meant we could only see the lights of the land and of other vessels. It is very difficult to judge distance and perspective. We were thankful we had AIS; receiving information about other vessels, and transmitting Wanda's speed and direction to others. Boats are shown as little moving green triangles on the chart plotter; these identify speed and direction of the marine traffic. Like a game of trust and space invaders Philippa studied the chart and gave instructions "..turn 10 degrees to port ...". I would blindly respond (as usual lol).
On entering the harbour it became even more confusing, as the brain attempts to make sense of the limited information, the perspectives and distances become dangerously deceptive. At one point on the approach I nearly turned to avoid imminent collision with a vessel that was 2 miles away!
Anyhow having got to the marina the Marinero came out at 4am on a workboat to pilot us on to a berth. How kind.
We have checked in and here starts the Schengen clock! We can strike our Q flag.
We are now resting in A Coruna and enjoying the town, we are meeting many fellow cruisers, all with the same excitement, optimism and trepidation as ourselves. Most are aiming for far away countries, oceans distant. Philippa and I enjoy strolling around the marina looking at the many boats geared for long distance cruising. Little ships with the familiar accoutrements of their liveaboard gypsies. All sorts from solo sailors to families with children of all ages; they are always friendly, we meet with the familiarity of those who have a similar lifestyle and a shared appreciation for the joys and fears of long distance sailing. We meet, perhaps share some stories, tea, snacks and information. Then its often goodbye and "fair winds". We hope, and will likely meet many of these people again; albeit in a now distant port or anchorage. Inshallah.
Pizza for tea.
K