There was so much going on… and so little time to sit down and capture the memories.

We set off from Menorca in good sailing conditions, heading toward Gibraltar. At first, we weren’t sure whether we’d make it in one go or stop on the Spanish mainland. The plan was to see what the wind would do. Since the prevailing winds usually blow from the west—but we had left in an easterly system—things could change quickly, and an uncomfortable ride was always possible.

To our delight, we started out flying along under a perfect sail configuration: our new, poled-out Genoa on one side and the Code Zero on the other. What a setup!

After a couple of days, the wind and waves eased, making for a calm ride. Not wanting to get trapped on the coast with a westerly, we decided to “bite the bullet” and push through four days and four nights at sea. Our destination: La Línea de la Concepción, just across the border from Gibraltar. There, we planned to leave the boat, take a short break from sailing life, and return to Starnberg for a week.

With the lighter winds came dolphins—lots of them. We were lucky enough to have so many pods swimming with us that, after a while, the excitement faded… but the sense of wonder never did.

The last night before arriving was one of the eeriest I’ve had on Akuna. Clumps of fog rose over completely still waters, lit by an almost-full moon. It was beautiful, surreal, and strangely calm. When a dolphin suddenly broke the surface, the moment was almost spooky.

By morning, the fog had lifted, and the Rock of Gibraltar came into clear view—reminding us of the mountains we’d soon see again back home in Germany. But first, we had to explore “the Rock” and meet its famous monkeys. Our bright idea of offering a banana as a peace gesture quickly proved a mistake: the monkeys are cleverer than many humans… or at least, more clever than me. While I sometimes struggle to find things in my own backpack, the monkey knew exactly which pocket to open!

A long but beautiful walk down past St. Michael’s Cave (a stunning stalactite cave) gave us breathtaking views and the joy of moving again after four days at sea. We even caught the lively, somewhat chaotic end of Gibraltar’s National Day—though I’m not convinced it starts out any more sober! Perhaps years of being shut behind the Spanish border made drinking part of local tradition? Then again, having lived in Munich, I know it doesn’t take isolation to justify a proper folklore-style party.

After mountains of laundry—and plenty of scooter practice for the boys in the nearby bowl—we packed up to head home. Gisi and Terry chose to stay behind and begin a road trip through Andalusia. Having them with us had been wonderful, though I suspect most of the joy was ours… the sea can be unforgiving.

And now here I am, writing this on the plane, looking down at the very waters and coastline we worked so hard to inch westward along—only to fly back over them in a fraction of the time. It makes you wonder: is sailing really the best way to travel? Or do we miss too much when we take the shortcut by air? Perhaps both are true. There’s a time for everything. For us, the time has come to enjoy land life for a week… and start school.