A Bobby George Boner of a bicycle ride to start off a rather hungover Sunday morning.
Anna and I sped (sorta) past the Great Man's Ardleigh pile.
The flag wasn't flying, and so we don't think that yer man Bob was at home.
Anna then buggered off to play bloody golf, and so I went out for a solo canoe paddle.
It's the first time that I've gone alone. Maybe there's a lonely hearts club for paddlers with no partner?
I still feel slightly uneasy out on the water.
As ever, I completely misjudged the tide.
I was carried out almost to Alresford Creek, and then thought: bugger - I've got to somehow get back in now.
I nipped in behind a tandem canoe (the cheats!) and allowed them to guide me back to the old Sailing Club hard.
I thought that I saw an estuary wilds equivalent of Nessie on the way in.
It turned out to be a floating log.
Some energetic gardening prevented me from collapsing all afternoon with the hangover having never really cleared.
I watched a bit of the ODI, a bit of the England football.
And then METROKNOBBERS with @Darryl1974 - who I think was even more hungover than me.
And then DARTS / cycling on TV.