I’m not much of a one for boats (can’t swim) but I can on occasion be convinced onto one, especially a nice, wide stable ones with a bar. Hence it was that a boat trip down the Thames didn’t seem too bad, and I ended up boarding a typical tourist contraption at Westminster pier to head to Greenwich and back with a bunch of WAY people.
The sun stayed out enough for us to head to the open top deck as we headed away from the political centre and down the familiar Thames, seen from a new prospective. One of the crew cheerily gave a commentary despite not being a tour guide (bucket passed round at the end folks!) as we went beneath bridge after bridge. The commentary died off a bit as we left Tower Bridge behind—there’s not really that much to speak of between there and the Cutty Sark hoving into view to mark the end of the little run.
After much debate as to whether to get the same boat back (yes) and therefore if it was worth getting off (no) it started to rain enough to force everyone downstairs into the dry and warm, where at least the bar lived. The journey back was a bit less exciting, given we’d seen it all on the way, and it’s a bit difficult to tell from just a normal bar when the outside is dulled by cloud and rain. I skipped out on the following pizza to watch football (which given the six-nil drubbing may have been regrettable) but did catch up again long enough to say some goodbyes. I’d better remember to take Gemma chocolate next time I see her thought!
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