I’m in Ramsgate, the north sea looks magnificent today.

I feel very much down because of what’s happening, but happy to learn that even now, this voyage is a powerful generator of life.

Since leaving London I felt strange pains to my left lung and breathing was problematic.

In the last two weeks, in Faversham, this got worse and I often could not even walk without having to stop to recover my breath.

Sometimes I had to lay down.

When arrived in Ramsgate things worsened dramatically. After two nights of strong wind and much noise due to the Dynamo Day event, the pain became unbearable and breathing very hard indeed. My brain could not get enough oxygen and even simple actions like walking became an adventure.

Jacopo took me to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Margate: there I’ve been analysed, x-rayed, scanned and examined in record time, by lovely people displaying great professionalism, kindness and humanity.

At the beginning they feared a pulmonary embolism, then further exams disclosed a virus that has settled in my lungs and in my brain. Never mind the brain, but the lungs are far more simple and genuine, built to perform a simple but essential task.

I’m now under antibiotic and cortisone, trying to rest. My energy is low but I often get out to see the Channel waiting for me, and Clodia impatient to set sails again.

I hope to get better in about ten days, maybe less. Once the inflammation disappears I should be able to breath normally. Cortisone does some magic.

I must say that I usually never use medicines, opting for natural way of treatment. However this time I faced two alternatives:
A – try to transform into an anaerobic being
B – six month of natural therapy.

I’m sorry to feed my body with antibiotic and cortisone, even a slow-traveling project, but timing is now important. I hope you may understand that this slow down, appearing as an annoyance, became to me a great enrichment. As Aeschylus wrote in his extraordinary tragedy, the Agamemnon, “the pain of grief brings wisdom and experience”.

The anxiety, the people following this voyage, all those asking why we don’t keep going, Jacopo frustrated by this forced waiting: They all put lots of pressure on me.

The weather, the events, my health, the promises not kept by others, the slow downs: Everything plotted to take me to this point and learn that this was the only way.

I could have been in a very akward situation, would things have developed differently.

We’ll cross the Channel along with sombody that we’ll find here or in Dover, regardless of any support boat. Sailors already annoyed me: Often so arrogant and incapable of any solidarity. Conrad is turning over in his grave.

So weird: In so much water I missed air.

A big hug and a huge thank to everyone for your support.