For Thursday - The Wind in the Willows

"Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats."

Fowey Royal Regatta

Let me breakdown Fowey Royal Regatta for you, from a new arrival's perspective: for one week a year the sleepy, seaside, quaint, upscale, holiday village in Cornwall called Fowey turns into a raging dawn-to-dusk party. As The Galleon's staff shirt's say: 'Fowey is a drinking port...with a sailing problem.'

On the Sunday of Regatta Week, all the boats that will race throughout the week sail down to Flushing, cleaning their ships and drinking upon arrival to return back to Fowey the following morning--the working boats from Flushing following behind to join in the racing. At about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, walk up to the headlands or St. Catherine's castle and watch the fleet arrive in style--their spinnakers and spankers (sails) colorful in the wind. What ensues is sailing, drinking and debauchery.

But, I'll save that for tomorrow...