I’ve eaten a lot of fish.
There were moments when I questioned what I was doing.
Seeing the flying fish flit momentarily above the water in Barbados.
Catching glimpses of silvery slivers of fish dart gracefully underneath my paddle board in Portugal.
I chose freshly caught fish, sustainable fish, fish that hadn’t been farmed.
But it took sitting next to a fishing boat watching the men bring nets in that I was confronted with the brutal reality of my choices.
All part of the food chain – all part of life. Not quite.
Things have got out of hand.