[Sung, melodic vocals only] Palmeria, the wind, the sea, the Viking and me. Right, so how long has it been… one, two weeks we've been together? And the Viking, ultra-enthusiastic, tells me, I go get my catamaran! Me, amused, Your catamaran? Naturally! And he does! He comes back with a racing hobbit-cat. A flat-pack mini-kat, made by trolls. A sporty longship, for training for the Route du Rhum. A day later, we assemble it in front of the slipway. Him, hyper-focused. Me, hypo-novice. His instructions are few and far between, so my mind wanders. I watch the boats, the seagulls, the clouds, I listen to the wind, I daydream… The Viking calls me back to order! Ready to launch? Ready! One, two, three, push! Spot on! He climbs aboard with the ease of a Viking born on the water… But the wind pushes the hobbit-cat back towards the quay. If its floats scrape the concrete, the boat's going to get hurt. The Viking looks at me and shouts, Hold on! Me, never heard that word in my life, Pardon? Hold on! Hold the boat! What is "hold on"? Luckily, he mimes… Unluckily, I'm not bilingual in mime. So, obediently, I hold. Except I'm not holding anything at all, really. I grab the float at the front. Ouch! Oh, bum! The back of the boat swings round and threatens to scrape the quay. No, go back! I run to the back, I grab the float and, of course… the front swings round. How daft! No, hold on, hold! Go front! I dash back to the front. I hold. The boat pivots, I zigzag, we dance. A perfect tango! Luckily, dancing is something I can do! I'm not quite sure where all this is going to lead us, but I haven't lost my footwork, or my sense of tempo. Chassé right-right, chassé left-left… Phew, what a relief! Captain Wuthering Heights, No! Not here! There! A seagull hovers into the mistral, right above us. She confirms, Kaiii! Correct! And shows me the way, Kaii kaii! Over there! Instantly, I see the scene through her eyes. From above, the hobbit-cat looks like a compass needle searching for north. Light as a feather, bobbing about like a little cork, it's getting knocked about by the waves. Its two nutshells are drifting dangerously towards the quay. To avoid a smash, Captain All-Red, hair vol-au-vent, barks orders at the cabin girl, who zigzags like a competition crab. Down below, I dash back and forth, half panic, half giggles. This metronome movement takes me straight back to the very same feeling I had as a little girl… Instant flashback! My little sister and I used to build two enormous sandcastles twenty-five metres apart. The first one to flatten one of them wins! On "go", each of us set off from one mound, and we ran like mad things to leap very high and land with both feet on the castle opposite. Then we turned round and started again the other way, without stopping. It was as much cardio as it was euphoric! We laughed so hard when we crossed paths that we could never finish our game. We always ended up rolling in the sand, laughing till we couldn't breathe, hearts pounding. The body has a memory. The more absurd it is, the more I laugh. My frantic back-and-forth has woken up my Proustian madeleine. I've got the giggles, I can't stop. Meanwhile, Captain Haddock has trained his daughter since she was a child in boat racing. She has become his seasoned crewmate. Touched by my beginner's reflexes, he's as patient with me as he was with her! He can see that for me, it's just a game. And he loves playing! My giggles remind him of his darling daughter's and touch him right in the heart! Irresistible! An angelic smile lights up his face, his watchful eyes sparkle. He starts laughing along with me! In the end, nothing beats experience! The old sea dog manages to steady the beast and get clear of the quay. Hop, I climb aboard and off we go! Well, almost… because, to my great surprise, the mistral sets us drifting, rather slowly but very surely, straight towards a luxury yacht fifty metres long and four metres high. Probably the Beckhams' or Beyoncé's? No paddle, no rope, no life jackets, we look like two plastic bags on a pedalo. Short of a miracle, we're going to smash into its hull, before we've even left the harbour! [Verse: sung with full voice, no whispering] And during this suspended moment… I'm completely fascinated by its shimmering hull, midnight blue and pearly white. [Verse: sung with full voice, no whispering] I've only got one idea in my head: to stroke its glitter paint in three-D. The closer we get, the more I admire those mica pigments catching the light like a jewel on the water! How marvellous! [Chorus: powerful sung vocals] If I'm going to go, I might as well end up among the stars! [Outro: powerful sung vocals, no whispering] Luckily, the master of the helm roars firmly to hold our course, Hold on! Here we go, he's at it again! [End]
