Where do you go to my lovely?

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For a while I sat in the car by the shore this morning with my daughter. The sun shone from beyond grey clouds and somehow shimmered on the cold water. I was drinking a wretched coffee - flat white from a machine in a gas station, and eating an over-sugared French Fancy. The obscene assaults on my mouth and tastebuds faded into the background however, when I noticed the foxy looking lady photographed above glide past us towards the harbour. My ever fanciful imagination used the image and its associations to transport me on board. The crew were a bit surprised to see me, and even more surprised when they were rerouted to the Arabian Sea, sailing down the west coast of India. We anchored half a mile or so off shore at the town of Ratnagiri where the Burmese royal family were exiled at the behest of the English in 1910 and small motorboats pulled up alongside to unload some cargo and deposit large bales of cloth on the ship’s deck. Then my daughter told me it was time to drive on because she was getting cold and reality kicked in once more. Where do you go in your fanciful moments?