And so, another weekend passeth. Another Eurovision - of some spectacle it has to be said - has also come and gone (an evening in front of the tele with a chinese take-away, courtesy of Duncs). Well done Norway, for getting the most points 'ever'. As the BBC website put it,'The vast Olympic stadium in central Moscow was certainly packed with an enthusiastic crowd, which was entertained with the usual mix of the bold, the beautiful, the bad and the utterly bizarre'....which is probably why it appeals to the surrealist in me. I look on the whole thing as 'pop' performance art.
On Sunday...we took Lysander down river to Old Ford Lock - having finally caught up with K and B. It was an enjoyable little afternoon run with two all-too-rarely-seen friends. An added comedic ingredient being the muppet on a tupperware boat who pitched up as we were filling up our tank with water in the lock. This chap was straight out of an Ealing comedy - complete with reverse baseball cap, and rock blaring from his 'flying bridge'. S thought he was drunk. He couldn't hear any of our responses to his febrile attempts to say anything remotely comprehensible. Not from where I was standing.
Returning from Old Ford Lock back to Springfield, I chanced to open up the throttle on Lysander like I've never done before...the result: 4 mph according to the GPS and a substantial bow-wave. I could smell the heat of the old Lister below our feet.
Later that evening as S and I were out for an evening walk we saw our tupperware boat come steaming by in the opposite direction - this time a power-ballad the soundtrack to his progress. He was crying as he went passed.