I Know, let's buzz the weir.

Let me tell you about the lost art of jungle canoeing, recently practised in this little known region of France. With temperatures only a little over zero, and the snow melting down the hill side along with the addition of the nights rain. Conditions were finally reached where we could canoe over the newly constructed weir and downstream into the jungle.

Attempt one was a great success buzzing the new weir and shortly after hitting the weir built by the kids in the summer. Weir two was not so great on the first attempt as I jammed the nose and was then washed over with the water behind me. The water was cold enough to turn the label blue on a can of carling.

Three runs down and I was knackered so it was time to play Pooh Sticks. We put kirsty in a canoe and launched her at the top end. Tony and I were busy supervising as Kirsty buzzed the first weir, dissapearing out of reach as she raced away down the valley. In an attempt to put daddy to shame, she then spun the canoe and did the hardest part backwards before spinning back round and carrying on down stream.

Anyhow, all dry now and ready to get some more work done tomorrow, weather permitting.