Day Twelve

Sevilla to Portuguese Coast

Around half past four we leave Sevilla and start to sail down the Guadalquivir again. This takes long enough that we are still doing that when after dawn I am finally up and about as well. Andalusia, the area the river runs through, is mostly flat with the occassional hill. At least around here it is also very sparsly populated.

By now, all clouds are gone and it promises to become the most beautiful day. Once we are on the sea again, I opt for some outside reading and I fetch my book. Since we are now on a northerly course, the area behind the wheelhouse does provide a very nice space to sit in the sun after all.

But despite the sunshine, the sea is not quite as calm as it was on the way south. It gets ever more angry after dinner. More importantly, the course of waves has changed and the ship is now rolling properly which means that she goes up and down a lot. To which my senses seem to agree a lot less. So, when I settle down at my laptop, it finally hits me. Sea sickness, that is. Strangle feeling, quite unlike the nausea that accompanies migraine or hang-over. I don't really feel bad. It is just the knowledge that, if I don't do anything about it, sooner or later I will throw up.

After a while I decide that heroism is all nice and well but what for and take measures in from of a little white pill named Postafen.

And thus, I can sleep.