Fraggle 7

On BOATS! Yes, boats. Very romantic idea, not quite so in reality - bunk beds, cold piddley shower, days of breathing nothing but diesel. Ah, the open canal. But at least I didn't have to do my hair. It was nice to spend lazy days sailing through countryside, although a bit odd that we all kind of split up for most of the weekend - I'm used to Fraggle being 1 giant free-for-all. There were so many of us (27) that we had to heve 3 boats - 2 10-berth boats (namely the 'party boat' and the 'sleepy boat') and one super-luxurious 6/8-berth one that was brand new. As this was the only one to have a decent shower I absconded on Sunday morning to steal it, only to get my comeuppance when that boat made me feel very seasick.

Saturday was pirate day, which was hilarious for a little while, and then we kinda forgot what we were wearing and wondered why people on passing boats were looking at us funny. I was quite pleased with my glamorous sequined eye-patch. Kinda 'Vegas-pirate'. Yarrrrr!

All that fresh air and beer meant we were all pretty rubbish at up-keeping the party-boat's reputation and sloped off to bed not too long after midnight. We did try though. Katy and I even had plans to stay up and watch the sun come up - genius idea! Until we realised that was about 7 hours away and, well, we were kinda tired... We did have lots of fun photographing rude symbols drawn with my torch first though.

Rachel and I were the only girls on our boat (of 11) so we did have a bit of 'boy-smell' to contend with - funny how if you get 9 blokes together in a confined space, even if none of them smell individually the space will still smell of SMELLY BOYS. And I think Rachel found herself with a slightly dis-proportionate amount of cooking duty (sorry Rachel - I did have to clean the whole boat Monday morning if that makes up for it) but that was no bad thing for the rest of us with a feast of Penne Ala Sausage. We were all very glad we hadn't gone to the pub.

Sunday lunch at a nearby pub - obviously Hungry Horse pubs cater more for the 'quantity' and less for the 'quality' (although the Sticky Toffee Pudding was great stodge) and I did feel myself turning into a bit of a snob when the table next to us was filled with 3 teenage mums; one of them had a little boy with her that must've been about 7, and was really good actually, although that was a small miracle after being around those 3 all his life. After a long-winded conversation about their respective beat-up/make-up relationships, the conversation turned to who each of them was planning to beat up next and why ("she was well givin' me evils") and then finally their choice of vibrator and how long they lasted until they 'burned out' (??!!). All in front of the little 7 year old boy. Who then desperately throws some food on the floor in a bid to get some attention. Which he doesn't. Scary and sad.