🇬🇧 In 1978, a scruffy little trimaran stole the greatest race finish in sailing history by just 98 seconds. Every four years since, Saint-Malo empties its harbour to chase that ghost. On Sunday, 118 solo sailors point their bows at Guadeloupe — here’s why the Rhum is sailing’s most rebellious, tragic and thrilling race.
🇩🇪1978 gewann ein schäbiger kleiner Trimaran das legendärste Rennen der Segelgeschichte — mit nur 98 Sekunden Vorsprung. Seither leert Saint-Malo alle vier Jahre seinen Hafen, um diesem Geist nachzujagen. Am Sonntag stechen 118 Einhandsegler Richtung Guadeloupe in See — warum die Rhum das rebellischste, tragischste und aufregendste Segelrennen der Welt ist.
🇫🇷 En 1978, un modeste trimaran a volé la plus belle arrivée de l’histoire de la voile avec 98 secondes d’avance. Depuis, tous les quatre ans, Saint-Malo vide son port pour courir après ce fantôme. Dimanche, 118 solitaires pointeront vers la Guadeloupe — voici pourquoi la Rhum est la course au large la plus rebelle, la plus tragique et la plus grisante qui soit.
23°C, a shy sun, chores done, three fresh comics in the mailbox. Michel Vaillant and Buck Danny have my full attention until further notice. 😎
I’m betting cheese and wine on this Super Bowl matchup.
Care to disagree?
🏈🏈🏈
Another week, another chapter in the curious adventure that is life! From Carcassonne to far-flung travel plans, with a little health drama, a generous helping of good food, classic cars and a turtle who refuses to slow down, Week 43 had plenty to offer. Curious?
But what’s the story behind it?
Rain, drama, strategy and six hours of flat-out racing — Barcelona had it all!
Heading back on Ryanair to Euro country. I’ll pay for my Gin & Tonic in my home currency, as Ryanair so kindly “prefers”.
I’m told Carcassonne is serving up the same weather I left behind in London, only with blue sky on top. (Ce n’était pas le cas. Blue sky was cancelled, apparently. Like my faith in forecasts.)
Anyway, cheers to a few excellent days in the English capital! 🥂
PS: Is there anything better than King Crimson, Yes, Genesis, Camel and Pink Floyd at 30,000-odd feet with a drink in hand? Be honest. Seven-minute guitar solos finally match the pace of Ryanair boarding.
PPS: Have you noticed I haven’t complained about Ryanair this time? Two of us are sharing three seats, so we can spread out like proper aristocrats. The flight is on time, and the flight attendant is delightful. Someone check the aircraft for a miracle. ✈️
Punctual doctors in France. A kidney stone with a sense of timing. A wine festival pitching its tents just as my long dry spell reaches its most fragile moment. What could possibly go wrong?
Missing volumes, new releases, irresistible temptation… and a monthly audit that would make an accountant weep!
