I was standing on the roof of the narrowboat as it forged upstream towards the M25 beyond Picketts Lock, spreading my arms wide, doing my king-of-the-world impersonation, urging Judith to take a photograph of me; and she did. Or she thought she did. Or her camera told her she did. But when we got home this afternoon from our boat trip up the River Lee (or Lea) we found that in fact no such photograph had been taken. Had the camera baulked at the shortness of my skirt? The daredevilness of my balancing on the roof having ingested so much wine? Or had The Wugster basically effed up with the picture taking?
Detailed explanation must surely await another time. Until that time, here are a couple of rather duller pictures of our time on the water this afternoon. (It's the second weekend of October! It's warmer than it was in August! Kick it for me one time, dude!)
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Camera decided that the alcohol-overload of the Joseph exceeded allowable norms, and did not want to encourage him to tumble from narrowboat roof into murky depths?
Lovely weather for the voyage - sun shine, no jumpers needed, at this time of year... Surprisingly, downstream Tottenham where we started from, the water was clear with lots and lots of little fishies having fun; upstream it became murky and any fish in it were invisible. Anglers along the banks seemed to think it still harboured fishlife.
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