An idyllic punt down the river, gently floating past the green banks and twittering wildlife. Laughing merrily, and generally messing about on the river. In some moments, it was like this; a lovely experience harking back to better times, when people hadn't evolved legs and had to punt to get around the place. Unfortunately, a lot of it (especially the first part) is better represented by this photo:
Note the subtle distinctions with the previous photo. Both Julia and I have annoyed looks on our faces, as we both try to silently blame the other for losing her sister in the river. I stare hopelessly across to the other bank, where a pack of wild ducks scamper back to their burrows with young Louise as their hostage. Julia is peeved that she had the sandwiches on her when she was taken.
The previous paragraphs contains a (very) few factual inaccuracies. What is true, however, is the actual mechanics of punting did not go as well as I would have hoped. It reminds me of a time (the first time, I hasten to add) when me and Julia decided to go out on a rowing boat around the lake. It says all that needs to be said when I say that we rowed for the first 10 minutes backwards with great difficulty, watched with amusement by the men in the boathouse.
Needless to say, rather than correcting us immediately, they simply smirked on our return an hour later.
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