If you find that you're falling behind, keep me in mind, sweetheart.

Bournemouth airport has never been "International". Its only ever been used by Englishman and people from the Channel Islands. It always made me laugh when I drove past and saw the fairly recently added "International" sign. It's like the terms "Liquid Gas", "Jumbo Shrimp" and "Known Secret". It just doesnt work somehow..

But then I went there the other day and it was like the Outlander Club in Star Wars. There were people carrying donkeys, women on leads and people wearing tents. And all this in Dorset, where my Gran used to live. But I think it's perfectly acceptable. This country has always been about change, A constantly diluted mix of an early Italian/French/German/Anglo recipe. I think that's very good as I'm really French, and all the true Anglo Saxons I know have a pronounced forehead and non matching eyes. Best to be avoided actually. Mainly they are on tills.

And the early core ingredients of the Moth class, that of an Anglo Australian monopoly has just seen such a change. The Americans arrived in New South Wales in the same way that Norman the Conqueror arrived over here with a massive three out of four in the Sydney International Regatta and one in the eye for you mate. The Australians must be distraught. Scott sailed well but by all accounts a limping crab would have been quicker to the leeward mark, John Harris didn't fire on all cylinders until the last two races, and most of the rest simply retired. Alot.

Of course this isn't the real thing and they still inexplicably don't have their best sailor sailing, but we'll see, times may warrant it. Maverick finally re engaged when all his mates were getting shot down.