My world has shrunk to the size of a little boat. Sailing gently on this pretty Arabic dhow, it feels like the handful of charming, unlikely sailors I've been travelling with have become dear friends.
As we fished for our lunch, I painted a picture for them of my idyllic Dorset home and my dreams of the fabulously crazy but fulfilling life I am enjoying there. Suddenly I find myself longing for the familiarity of the Old Watermill.
I am brought back to reality by the deliciously delicate ginger, orange and coconut sauces our crew of culinary experts have created to accompany our fresh haul. What an amazing, intriguing meal!
The most delicious smell is risng from a bowl of slow roasted nuts that heads my way. I am entranced by the hint of cinnamon that wafts towards me, tossed on the wind, before dispersing over the Indian Ocean. I wonder: are all the flavours of this tiny boat trip drifting out there, hitching a ride on individual gusts of wind? And what would happen if they were to swirl together?
It is an idea that takes my breath away. I savour a handful and note how dramatically the smoky, roasted nut sits alongside the delicate, exotic, is it perhaps fruity flavour?
As usual I want to start experimenting, inventing, creating immediately but I must learn to be patient. Soon we will return to the romance of beautiful Zanzibar with its noisy maze of narrow streets and overhanging balconies. There may be more I can learn of my craft there. I have no doubt I will be captivated again.