recap

Oh hello blog, you lovely thing. It's been a while.

Well, now that I'm back home after almost 3 weeks without internet I thought I'd tell you just what I've been doing in the mean time. It has been a good 3 weeks!

Ok, first week I was on a barge on the Oxfordshire canal, which was bea-utiful. We became expert storm-dodgers and, if I do say so myself, I was soon steering the boat like a pro, even in the pouring rain:

An amusing incident on the barge: I was steering fairly early in the morning and looking like a real bargee, when I looked to my feet and saw the hatch down to the engine, and noticed a small brass sign next to it explaining what it was. Now, for my somewhat immature mind, this sign turned out to be more than I could bear to keep to myself. I called to my brother at the front of the barge: "Oi Tom, there's a funny sign on the barge!" He asked me what it said, and I bellowed out over the noise of the engine: "It says FUEL COCK BELOW!" Then fell about in helpless hysterics. It wasn't until cruel coincidence caused me to turn round that I saw the old bloke on the tow path that was out walking his dog, looking at me in surprised amusement and pity as I rolled about the deck cackling like a schoolgirl. I was so embarrassed that, naturally, I went and hid in the toilet for the next half hour.

So, the week after the barge we went to stay in a cottage in Dorset (in Lulworth Cove, if you're interested). The weather was much better that week, and we went on plenty of day trips to explore everything around. One of the highlights of the week was when we went sea kayaking - it was incredible! I would so recommend it if you haven't done it before. Tom and I shared a kayak, and we were crashing through waves and dodging in and out of rocks and caves - whistling the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack, naturally.

Another highlight was our trip to Lulworth Castle for the annual jousting festival - where I learned that not only do I need a boyfriend, but he must be of the armour-wearing "I-shall-win-this-tournament-for-your-honour" type.

Needless to say, the baddie knight ("Lord Odious", as it happened) was my favourite, and - I am ashamed to say - without any other appropriate favour to give him (women used to give knights handkerchiefs and things to show their favour during the jousts) I was seriously considering removing my bra to give him in a moment of madness, but it seems a young girl beat me to the underwear offering:

She was on her dad's shoulders next to us and told him she wanted to give him her spare pair of knickers. On ascertaining that it was in fact the baddie that she wanted to favour, he said amusingly: "I'm not sure if I approve of this!" 

The final highlight, was the Anniversary of the Battle of Britain Air Show in Duxford. Man, I have never seen anything like it. So many World War II planes - they had sixteen Spitfires flying together! And I'm no fighter plane expert but I'm told that's rather a big deal. Of course, the Red Arrows are always a big hit with me.

So, this brings us on to this week, where I have been at Forum 2010, organised by UCCF (the national organisation of Christian Unions in universities). It was one of the most incredible weeks ever, honestly. The teaching was fantastic (click here to listen to any of them - Graham Daniels' talk was particularly brilliant) and we all learned to much and got really fired up for going back to uni and organising our CU freshers events. I nearly lost my voice from all the singing we did! Picture it: pitch black outside - no clouds but loads of stars, a huge marquee and a thousand students belting it out so that you can hardly hear your own voice. So good. So so good!

So, here I am - complete with a host of new books from Forum, a miniature model of a Red Arrow plane, and flip flop tan lines. It's been a mint few weeks!

and some for all the running folks

OK, so my boyfriend is into running. In, it has to be said, a fairly big way. So much so that he is willing to put himself through - from my perspective at least - the annual torture of the Great North Run.

This year, being the supportive and loving type, I went along to watch, cheer, and wave enthusiastically from safely behind the sidelines.

I tell you, it was a sight to be seen.

And what a buzz! It felt like the whole athletic world had rolled into Newcastle (which, to be fair, it very nearly had) and was just pouring through the streets and over the Tyne Bridge. Such colours! Never had I thought that Lycra could be so supremely beautiful, but I stand corrected. When you've got over 54,000 people all running in the brightest (albeit tightest) outfits imaginable, it makes for a pretty impressive sight.

Now, I hasten to add (if you hadn't already gathered), that running categorically isn't my thing. But by the end of it, I could quite see the appeal. An event like that is incredibly spectacular, and I found myself secretly wishing I could join in. My blokey told me that, often, when they run past roundabouts and street corners, local brass bands are out playing for them as they run by. Now that, surely, is a precious moment. When else does something so wonderfully nostalgic as that happen in our busy and urbanised lives?

I watched as he ran over the bridge, then jumped on the Metro and raced him to South Shields, and the finish line. When I eventually found him amidst the crowds of literally thousands of people, all wrapped up like a jacket potato in his foil blanket freebie and grinning from ear to ear, I was so immensely proud. I realised that it was more than just running to him. This was an event that he anticipates all year long, which - for a couple of hours at least - allows him to be more than just one little person, but instead a member of a huge, surging, dazzling, and determined team. Surely a year's worth of training is worth that one perfect moment?

I was very proud of you, bird.

(Having said that, I didn't tell him that the Red Arrows were my favourite bit)