Sunshine and community

The gorgeous and totally un-British weather has made the whole living-on-a-boat thing something of a dream. We feel like we're on holiday at the weekends when we lie on deck reading the paper or cycle along the seafront to eat fish and chips on the beach. Friday is R's last day as a City boy - so goodbye office, suits, commute and all that crap and hello hanging out with wifey! I took on an extra job to ease his passage into unemployment (despite our outgoings going down two thirds, he was still very anxious taking this big step) so, rather annoyingly, now seem to be working waaaay more than I used to as I'm running my own business alongside. But hey, the plan was to spend more time together, that's why we did this, so I know things will work out. I might leave the extra job soon although I like the cushdi side of it; washing my clothes, eating and using the computer there are all nice little perks!

One of the most pleasing things about our new life is how many interesting and lovely people we have met. Although we lived in a village before where everyone knew everyone and there was loads of love and support (we went back at the weekend and felt like the prodigal children returning!), there's something about when you close your front door that shuts you off from the world. On a boat, your life is much more visible and whilst privacy is very much respected (noone stares at your boat if you're in, for instance) walking up and down the jetty or sitting on deck initiates many conversations. We quickly made friends here and everyone has been incredibly supportive of us two novices, offering advice, tools, time and kindness in abundance. We have been taken out on others' boats and shown the ropes (haha!). I have had cups of tea and coffee with all our liveaboard neighbours and some of the richer yachties, as they're called, too.

The difference seems to be time. Everyone has much much more of it here; they have purposely chosen this lifestyle so that they do. Most liveaboards seem to work part-time and spend as much time as they can sailing, fishing, reading, lying on deck and chatting. It makes for such a lovely chilled environment. Any problem and someone is there and willing - and has the time - to help. For instance, when our car battery died, a neighbour charged it up on his boat all day, removing and replacing it for the completely hapless me. Last night, when one of the elderly residents felt ill, an ambulance was called and he was taken up to meet it by what he called 'my own harem of women'! Recently, a cat went missing and everyone was looking for it and talking about it. When it was found, the owner popped over to tell us. It feels so good to be a part of a community that genuinely cares. What's interesting is the range of different people here: there are the 'yachties' who come down at weekends and the liveaboards who, obviously, are here all the time. Ours feels like the best pontoon to be on (well, I would say that!) as everyone gets on regardless of age, wealth or life choices.

So, despite R splitting his head open on the low beams in the living area last week, we're really enjoying ourselves aboard and I feel that I am finally getting used to it and loving our new life. There were definitely days in the first month when I thought 'ah sod this, I want to go back to space and greenery and running water etc etc' but this week I feel really chipper about being a liveaboard.