With the complicity of the little wind I had a rare weekend without putting your ass in the water. On the other hand I managed to finally put his hand on the helm that I fucking wrecked several weeks ago in the now dry Lignano. Christmas knocks. The head is full of thoughts of a magma that life-work he has to name Polodigitale.it. The attempt to vaporize the server has failed miserably and has brought with it many nights spent in travel to San Vito - Trieste. And, unfortunately, not for sailing. I just hope to stitch together the necessary time to do the things that must be made to make room for Hvar. A race that is a party. A party that is a race. The island.
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