<![CDATA[orange you glad i didn’t say “river trip”]]>so tomorrow i join with andrew of vaughan once more (as i did two years ago) and a bunch of youngsters from Christchurch, Kenilworth, to head up to and then down the river of orange (yes, it’s my new thing, deal with it!) and i am very much looking forward to it…

originally we were hoping that the beautiful val would be able to be there but sadly thesising and her old housemate’s wedding will be keeping her away and so we will have to make do with singing and talking and poetising about her as we did last time – when she arrived to pick me up after the previous trip the whole bus of youths felt like she was an old friend and a bunch of them even got out and hugged her…

looking forward to a big reunion with Ollie of Ver who was our river guide, my co-writer and singer of ‘give me hope Johanna people-on-river-trip themed songs (along with daniel of corder who sadly won’t be making it this time) who challenged me (well i don’t know if it was an active challenge but he did it so i kinda had to) to ten pushups which he did on his canoe which i then did (or did we do twenty?) with another guy (andrew winter perhaps?) across two canoes and then he did a headstand on his canoe and i think it was getting late by then… amazing guide, amazing trip, can’t wait…

altho there is this little nagging feeling in the back of my mind that i call stayawayfromthearguscycletourophobia which is the internal wailing scream of “never again!” that one sings to oneself (in a grunge metal combination of merit) for about 103 of the 109km of the Argus Cycle tour due to pain and cramp and wind and what-was-i-thinking (maybe last year’s argus cycle tour was not sufficient training for this one and getting on my bike at least once between races might have helped) and so on. but then a day later someone asks, “so are you going to do the argus cycle tour next year?” and you hear the words, “oh of course yes, wouldn’t miss it” come out of your mouth like some bad twilight zone episode curse…

so there is that nagging feeling… i’m not sure if it was the cold or the wet or the killing my arms by playing gondolier boy to lucy (my most excellent boat buddyess except in the bringing-suitable-snacks-for-brett department) slash showing off or the missing of my future wife or the bugs or the hard floor or the…

oh boy.

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