on the way back

There's no wake-up alarm so everyone sleeps long.
We are sailing against the wind which sets the immediate enviroment at an amusing 20 degrees angle. Going to fetch the second sandwitch seems like a real expedition and eating soup is a challenge. Things that hang show the direction of gravity. People entering the dining room tend to disappear from view together with the door at the first attempt to emerge a bit later looking as if it was all so planned.
It rains outside and horizon is very near. Inside are readers and sleepers around the table.
The ghost story is going along well but isn't very scary. Probably I miss the deciding language nuances. Going after a bit of fresh air before sleep results in disturbing Siggi out of his book and getting a new book recommendation. Looks like the door into a new world, the world of Icelandic books has opened.
beginning of the way back
on the way more back

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