I’m currently sitting in a beach club sheltering from the sun, trying to remember what happened yesterday – it seems like ages ago! Oh yes, I remember…..

Two men came down to the beach I’d slept on and told me it was owned by a resort, but they kindly let me stay on a deckchair in the shade of an umbrella. I spent most of the day there, thinking, writing and reading, and set off at about 4 pm, as is my new routine.

I may be grappling with some some big questions about my life, but I’m well aware that I’m in such a privileged position for this to be my main concern. and lying on a beach all day isn’t really that tough is it!?

Having planned to meet Mariano in Mesina on Monday and fly home, I had a short day on the water. A speedboat wash pulled me a few Kms across the bay towards Tropea, where I met Domenico, a photographer paddling the same kayak he’d used for an adventure to Naples last year. Domenico had been in the Amazon documenting the plight of one of the last tribes, and it would’ve been great to find out more, but we each went our separate ways.

The town of Tropea, a dense cluster of houses and narrow streets perched on top of the cliffs, was voted the most beautiful town in Italy last year. I scaled a flight of steps up the cliff that made my legs burn, and had a wander, gazing longingly through the windows of the many gelato shops.

Setting off in to the setting sun, I paddled for a few kilometres in the dark, enjoying the heightened senses and cool night air. Music drifted across the water from beach clubs and didn’t fade until I rounded a headland, where the sea became inky black and the stars lit my way.