It's raining heavily, a sodden Saturday night in County Antrim. So for my opening 365 gambit I'm put in mind of a day in the Ukraine. On a bicycle slung with cameras and habitually lost. Potemkin Steps in the morning, up and down for the record. Impossible to photograph well as the sun approaches always from behind. Late afternoon I ploughed along grand boulevards. Now trashy and frayed then a filthy wall of rain. I was terrified. It was an unusual experience to be afraid -of rain. It just wouldn't stop you see. Within minutes the streets were awash up to their kerbs. I was tremendously lost. Unable to cycle or see or ask anyone how to get back to my ship. Every available awning was huddled with weary Ukrainians, the best I could do was stand close to a bus shelter and hang on to my bike. For over an hour I shivered in a T-shirt and urged the world to stop filling up with water.
It did stop of course, in time for me to make the gangway and via a supermarket too. Drenched I procured some red wine from Georgia. Back in my cabin I showered the chill out of my bones and poured a huge glass in celebration. I can still taste it, it was the most beautiful wine I've ever tasted. A prickly friend opined that my ardour for this wine was merely in contrast to my previous discomfort- and relief at avoiding the potential of an unscheduled stay in Odessa without a coat or a passport. But he was always saying things like that.