See. I could keep going you know. The old Mju II again. Fixed 35mm, sharp as a die front to back. There's three under the stairs. Where's the point in that.
Of course it wasn't all cockles and cock-a-tails. Long periods at sea shoved about in the community petri dish.
I saw a road sign today I've never seen before 'Adverse Camber'. A good phrase. Abject camber, I expanded as the bend worked against me. There were a few of those alright. The worst of times. Barely a third of the way around Africa and already the ship was leaning the wrong way to me.
In Walvis Bay I'd been plotting an 80km cycle along the Kalahari Highway for a beer in the last big town before the Angolan border 1000km beyond that. But when it came to it I didn't have the heart for it. All the way to Namibia just to be irritable and disinclined. I managed to drag myself down the gangway for a run with the Mju before sailing. A deserted pier guano-caked was all I deserved that day. Runners know all about camber and nasty pulls too.