River legs

Not drunk enough to be funny so bear with me. Today we went canoeing. High on the success of climbing along the wall of death yesterday, we thought we’d try out our sea legs today. Well river legs. I. Was. Petrified. But not as petrified as yesterday. Not don’t-you-dare-take-a-photo-of-me petrified. More a bit anxious at every slight rock in the boat petrified. This left me sitting rigid throughout and therefore giving me a stupendous back ache by the end. But then I swam! So I’m doubly chuffed with myself in actual terms. I had had a glass of rosé by then mind you. The French do picnics so well don’t they – un peu de saucisson, some fromage au chèvre et un petit verre de vin rosé. In England it would have been (possibly) a beer and a bag of wotsits. So here I am enjoying my swim with ma petite fille. Next to the Pont d’Arc, no less. Which is a rock bridge over the Ardéche river. All quite pleasant. And significantly fewer shades of shit to scrape from the underpants this evening. #hoveringclosetounvinrosé #hoveringawayfromshittingmyself #hoveringclosetoinsanity


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