Sunday, December 3rd
I got up at the first glimpses of dawn and drove straight to the west-facing bay. I obviously had passed a worm hole in the space time continuum that must have sent me straight into the North Atlantic. A stiff offshore was blowing down from the freshly snow-capped mountains and into a swell that did not belong to the Mediterranean.
Temperatures were just very little above freezing and the sea had the accordingly grey-blue colour, that I knew so well from winter sessions home up north. It resembled more Norway than Denmark though, as the swell was very similar to a North Atlantic ground swell, with raw power up to now only halfway bruised into pleasant forms by the offshore.
Once the sun made it over the inland mountains the temperatures quickly became more Mediterranean, but the swell kept pretending it came from an ocean instead of a sea. The offshore had dropped a bit in force but kept working on cleaning the swell. The result was remarkable.