My boat is getting lighter and lighter as I lose, break and finish things, and realise I didn’t really need them anyway. A towel – don’t need that – just use the sun. Soap – don’t need that, deodorant – don’t need that (others may beg to differ). I’ve ditched my tent after all the poles snapped and ripped it, and could probably save a load more weight – I haven’t used my trolley once in Italy, or my bulky sleeping bag. But weight doesn’t really matter on the water, and they’re worth carrying for the time I do need them.

This coastline isn’t the most interesting, it’s just one long sandy beach, and I approached my 20kms in the morning more like a job – just get on and do it.

At lunch I stopped in a beach restaurant with no menu, and I was just trying to explain I have diabetes and didn’t want carbs, when the chef came out and insisted he’d cook me his famous pasta. Stopping in a restaurant at midday is my only option to find shade, and finding a low carb dish on the menu is impossible in Italy. Reflecting back afterwards I was annoyed at myself – my health is more important than keeping someone happy.

But at the same time, part of me is quite happy to tuck in to a delicious bowl of seafood pasta. Simone kept bringing out more things for me – beer, bread, battered anchovies, arancini, gelato – and it was all for free!

I’m starting to think I’d be better off eating carbs all the time, and investing my energy in trying nail my insulin ratios. It’s probably messing up my metabolism always switching between high carb and low carb, I definitely have bigger glycemic excursions when I eat carbs after doing low carb. I’m just not sure if it’s even possible to dose correctly with the number of variables at play on my adventure. I’d need to meticulously weigh everything I eat to calculate the ratios.

Today explained: flat until midday when I ate the pasta. I injected 8 units 15 mins before eating, but shot up and didn’t know how high I’d go. By 16:00 my sugars were on a steep downward trend, and there’s a bit of lag with the dexcom – so when I blood tested I was on 6.5. Heading quickly for a bad hypo, I panicked and stuffed my face with sweets, which then sent me high again. I got paddling and injected 1 unit. When I stopped at 20:30 I was again on a steep downward trend, and ate 3 biscuits. This sent me high all night.

After lunch I was chatting to Emmanuel, the restaurants porter, who was from Cameroon. He was amused and confused by my trip, and casually told me he too had traveled on the ocean – 5 days across the sea from Libya. ‘Many people on my boat died’ he chuckled.

I paddled for another 30 Kms, and pulled up on a beach, about 300 metres from a guy sunbathing. Said guy walked towards me in the nude, but the action of me chopping up a courgette with my opinel must’ve sent him a strong enough subliminal message, because he backed off.