Dear Majmasz

A searing hot shower, fresh unwilted vegetables, new old shoes and a spray of fragrant golden leaves all conspire, during the fretful hours of the night when a few sleepless neurons can't seem to riddle out why the wind is not pivoting us around the anchor, to reassure me that we have indeed returned and are once again docked in Victoria. I will try and draw a few dailies before we get caught in…