A (small) walk in the woods

Hi there

Well ...

Where to start?  On Saturday, my swimming friend J, J's personal paparazzo, and myself went on a short hike up a hill behind Days Bay Beach.  But - my fault - this fearless leader missed the turn-off to the short track and we ended up clambering, crawling, hiking our hearts out on what we could only term as a mountain akin to Everest.  Instead of about a half-an-hour or so, the trek took four hours and we missed the ferry back to Seatoun Beach.  And, please remember that we three are pensioners of different ages, one of us in the eighties.. 

Now - wait for it! - I had a fall! I  tripped over a root.   Naturally, I pretended I was okay and leapt up like a spring chicken, but inwardly screaming through the pain in my knee.  Five hours later, when  I got home, I was in agony.   I couldn't walk.

Conclusion?:  I have ended up with two crutches, a leg splint, a handful of pain tablets, an appointment with a physiotherapist and the fate of  my upcoming holiday in Queenstown hanging precariously in the balance.

Worse still, no swimming (yikes, no-no-no-no!!!).  It's not that I won't be able to swim.  It's that I won't be able to get in or out of the sea.  My friend, J and myself, have hashed over all the ways I could get into the water, from an electronically-controlled sling to hiring some nice muscular boy toy to carry me across the beach.

Sighhhhhh......

PS:  I really like the idea of the muscular boy toy.