We had noticed that the boats going out and in through the lock looked quite ordinary - no extreme boats or crews. And now it was our turn to enter the lock, just like any crew on any other boat. I wondered what the people up there were thinking. Were they aware of the big step we were about to take?

I found similarities with our own lives. We lived in a kind of an Oosterschelde. Our day-to-day life had its ups and downs, just as also the Oosterschelde had its tides. Alterations but repetitive. Sometimes a gale or even a storm, a lot to take into consideration, many ports to visit and sheltered. And by being sheltered it is naturally also a confined space. Dijks (= man-made walls to prevent the water to enter land) everywhere.

When we visited my Sister Jenny in Brussels we met some of her friends. It was a wonderful mixture of cultures and languages and most seem to marry someone form another European country. All sorts of languages were spoken and nobody seem to notice that the language actually changed from English, German and French between the people depending on the subject or which other people were involved in the conversation. Here, borders had varnished and only the horizon sets the limit. And, as everyone knows, the horizon moves along with the boat and gives new cruising grounds all the time. Jenny's daughter Clara, 3 years old, is brought up with three languages, Swedish with Jenny, German with her father Andreas and French in Pre-School. Maybe, when playing in the street later on, Flamish will be added.