A frustrating day waiting for the Estuary Wilds rain that never arrived.
I was supposed to go on a CTC club roll out; Anna had plans for bloody golf.
Both of these were abandoned when we clocked the weather forecast first thing.
The arrival of the rain then shifted, as did our plans for Easter Sunday.
We had a His ‘n’ Hers gym and swim experience.
The ride in along the Trail was odd. It was the lowest of low waters.
A trio of canoes from upstream Sunny Colch were trying to navigate the Muddy Banks of the Colne. The water must have been a couple of inches in depth.
A gym gents conversation followed with West Ham Wanker.
He started to bang on about his meat and two veg. I played along with his jocular humour so as not to disappoint him.
It turns out that he was talking about his actual Easter Sunday meat and two veg meal.
Mr Wanker gave me filthy look when I added some adult humour.
The swim was crap.
No such thing as a bad swim, etc.
The water in the pool was cloudy. The visibility underwater was about one metre at best.
I shared a lane with Perfume Lady. I was only aware of her passing me by the stench of her piss poor perfume.
A half-arsed garden session took place back at base.
Still there was no rain.
wtf is wrong with this place, etc?
I listened to a little of the Surrey commentary whilst unarchiving some photos. I’ve reached the Wedding Years where I snapped away in South London churches for hard cash.
Never again, Comrades.
And then the Man Utd Vd Chelsea match.
Easter Sunday came to a close with the Steve Jobs film.
It still hasn’t bloody rained.