The main aim for Saturday morning was to beat the Estuary Wilds rain with an early swim.

We failed.

Anna and I cycled along the Trail and both ended up with wet arses.

I reluctantly became involved in a race that wasn't a race in the pool.

A fella with more tattoos on his torso than his naked flash decided to take me on.

Oh. OK.

He had a powerful stroke, but for one length only. Each time that he reached one end of the pool, he took a breather whilst I headed back down on the return length.

And then when I was back to his position, he decided to take me on again.

This pointless routine was played out for 40 of my lengths, 20 of his.

I'm not really sure what was to be gained for either of us.

A quick dry and brush up back at base, and then Anna and I headed out to not so Sunny Colch.

It was bloody miserable, to be honest.

I finally ditched a pair of mid-life crisis jeans. Whatever possessed me to buy some denim that separates in three places along the trouser leg, and has more tassels than the bra of a burlesque lady?

You're welcome to them if you head to the British Heart Foundation in Colchester.

Next up was Firstsite for the Open Exhibition. I've left it very late in the season to catch the exhibition, having been South London based for most of the time of late.

It was tremendous fun.

What I really enjoyed was the overall lack of any theme. This didn't restrict your way of thinking when trying to actually look at some of the art and appreciate it.

We then did a bit of a charity shop run ourselves. I came close to buying a beautiful pair of Kid Creole white spats.

Sorry - I just haven't got the bottle.

I did buy another cravat by mistake.

Whoops.

And then we joined up with the Refugees Welcome march in Colchester. It was a bloody good turn out for what was piss poor weather.

The route was pants though. You couldn't have made it more low profile if you had asked a SatNav to find the backstreets of Sunny Colch.

I suspect that this was deliberate on behalf of the police.

We had a little more shopping to complete. A trip down to the East Hill antique shop was memorable for the the BLASTING OUT of side one of the first Clash album, vinyl as well.

Fine work, Sir.

I confess to singing out loud: "I don't want to go where the rich are going..."

But we did go to the Mod Shop next.

Apologies - I just couldn't resist.

I've had my eye on them for some time.

And finally a swift pint in the Odd One Out.

I was thrown out for breaking the house rules of NO SWEARING.

Bollocks, etc.

I started the drying out process back at base by listening to Paul Young's No Parlez.

Woh!

What an album!

Having won the Paul Young Sing Off with Anna the night before, I was keen to take on the Man himself.

No contest.

I managed to match the opening "Mmm, Mmmmmm, Mmm" of Wherever I Lay my Hat. Then I lost it.

I had forgotten how No Parlez is essentially a covers album - Love of the Common People, plus Love Will Tear Us Apart.

The jury is still out on that one. I haven't the heart to suggest it as a Cover to Cover with @RobertElms.

Saturday evening was spent catching up with the last episode of Music for Misfits on the iPlayer, and then then the boxing on C5.

A good day.


Last built: Sun, Jan 31, 2016 at 3:07 AM

By Jason A.Cobb, Saturday, November 14, 2015 at 2:56 PM. Still diggin!