We’ve walked five miles along the Thames between Battersea and Wandsworth. Mr Smith isn’t one to enjoy walking and is convinced that that the signs lied. What was essentially a one and three quarter mile walk, was definitely more like three or four miles. Personally I loved it, and often walk for miles without a second thought.
On this particular hot day I took photos of beautiful house boats and started thinking about a life of living on the Thames. What are their overheads, what is their lifestyle like? How does the postman find them? Truly fascinated by this because I have a love-hate relationship with water.
I love to swim, was brought up by the ocean and look for a pool wherever possible, but I don’t travel by water. I can’t possibly think of travelling by water – my stomach is doing somersaults as I type. So you would never believe that I sailed across the English Channel to Cherbourg – yes, sailed. It was horrendous, but for this little Aussie traveller, of course I’m going to try everything. By the time we reached Jersey, I was ready to fly home on my own, but couldn’t afford the airfare.
You will also be surprised to learn that I hate travelling by water so much that I reluctantly agreed to travel home from Santander in Spain to Plymouth England via the Bay of Biscay, one of the roughest stretches of water surrounding England. I was so sick, so desperately sick…that screaming ‘fuck off’ to my husband when he ran into the cabin to tell me he was watching hump-back whales, was more than appropriate.
So living on a house boat where you don’t have to sail anywhere on the water, can paint it any cute colour you like, live like an uber-cool, Trudi Styler-like gypsy, with window boxes brimming with a variety of colour co-ordinated geraniums, various herbs, and stylish outdoor all-weather furniture. Oh, and a bottle of chilled LP Rose to hand. I’m probably glamorising this lifestyle somewhat – okay, a lot.