Loch Lomond

Just to clarify, that's Loch Lomond, California.  Not Loch Lomond, Scotland.  They are both very beautiful, but I have to say California wins, but only because of the weather.  I have been to Loch Lomond, Scotland, many times, but I have never seen it in dazzling, undiluted sunshine.

Sorry Scotland.

'Och aye the noo, 'tis fair bright today'

I took the opportunity to go rowing.  I have missed my rowing so was looking forward to having a go in the tourist boats.  However, it only served to remind me how spoiled I have been, skiffing in traditional, finely honed crafts with even the sculls cut on the twist to help you along.

Sadly, the boat I was in was more reminiscent of a bath tub, and the sculls were very basic sticks with paddles on the end.  There was no foot board to move against, so it was a rather difficult to get any leverage.   The wind was getting up too, and the boat tended to crab on the water, and sometimes refused to move, even when I was pulling hard.

There were dragon flies and other pretty things flitting about.  I had been put off landing on the far shore, as apparently that is where the mountain lions congregate.  I know deer, horses and cattle can swim, I didn't want to find out about whether the puma still needs water wings.

The wind twice blew my hat into the water, which necessitated complex maneuvers to rescue it.  This meant I was exposed to the sun for longer than was sensible, but I did feel pleasantly cool as I put it back on and water trickled down my face.  I had obviously been without it too long, as someone back on land called out to ask me 'whether I had been in the sun'.

We had a lovely barbeque, in more sunshine, and were able to take in the fantastic views.  Even so, I have to confess that a little part of me yearned for the ethereal mist on the Thames and the gentle creaking of a proper, wooden rowing boat.