In 1989, Cecily and I took off to Sydney for a holiday, travelling by overnight bus because it was cheap. A friend of a friend owned a yacht and he took us out for a day exploring the harbour. I remember Cecily's deep contagious laugh as we literally learned the ropes, narrowly missing the boom as it swung scarily across the boat. We ate sandwiches and explored secret rocky shores, and that night went out to King's Cross, played pool and drank too much beer.