Yesterday on my walk, I came across this boat, docked along Rowe's Wharf. Many were admiring her; mostly men, walking the length of the boat and looking in at the steering and seating in the way one might look at a classic car, which was apparently a correct assessment. My admiration was different. The boat's length made me think of a stretch limo, with the driver/chauffeur up in the front and a long deck separating the passengers privately in the stern seats. And what was that lovely basket of bread and wine doing sitting there on the deck? All together, it suggested luxurious possibilities for wearing a flowered dress and floppy-brimmed hat, for an exuberant escape and most certainly, for great and true romance. The boat's name assured me my assessment was also correct. C'est la vie, mon cheri.
