Monday, 6 July 2009

Fawley Meadows

The heat wave is over, and today it rained. Proper rain, a drenching kind. The sun kept coming out, but then it would rain again…ensuring that I wouldn’t go out and top up my tan. I slept until noon anyway, so if there was much sun in the morning, I missed it. I made it outside for a few minutes to run around the Dene once. Three minutes of exertion is better than nothing.

After my Saturday night shift behind the bar, Claire, Matt and I went to the Stag and Huntsman’s bar at the regatta in Fawley Meadows. I got to drink some Pimms by the Thames, even if it was in the dark in a nearly deserted section of the river. I got a lift back to the pub on the back of Sam’s quad bike. I’m not sure how fast it goes, but it was fun. And cold and windy and by the time I climbed off it my hair was wild and knotted. Claire feared for my life.

Sunday was quiet. Strangely quiet for a Sunday afternoon during the regatta. We finished early and I got a lift down to the river with Abbie and Chris. We drank more Pimms by the river and dangled our feet in the water, chatting about the boats going by and waving to the sunburnt people on top of the them. Pete gave me a lift back in his ancient land rover with his dog. I arrived back at the Stag tipsy and covered in dog hair and opened up for the night. It was stupidly quiet except for a couple who were staying over. At half past ten two men came in with stripey regatta jackets and hats and ensured that I didn’t lock up and go to bed for at least another half an hour. At least they entertained me with drunken stories of their travels, their lives and then a silly argument between them.

Tomorrow, Lee comes. We have ‘proper’ dates lined up for while he’s in England…movies with popcorn, London theatre tickets and three course meals and a river cruise perhaps too.

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