#12 Whatever floats your boat

So after a bit of a drought (these things can happen in the blind dating world too), I got back into the game yesterday.

After having a few interchanges, trying to set up a time with Date #12, I woke up to a message that went something along the lines of ‘Good morning. I know that I’m one of 50, but I feel like we really have a special connection. How do you feel about us calling each other ‘Babe’? And is it too soon for a joint Facebook account?’.


This friend of a friend’s friend suggested we go for a paddle down the Duzi. Being the (not-so-)pro paddler that I am, why not accept the challenge? So off I went with suncream, lycra pants, life jacket, helmet and gum guard. Kidding, I’m not that geeky, I fortunately didn’t take all of that. Just the lycra pants – that was an unfortunate.

So Babe and I set off, paddling down one of the glorious African rivers, with checkers packets acting as our national flower, in full bloom along the river banks.

We shot a few weirs. Braced ourselves through a series of rapids. But yes, we fell out. Once. We had made it successfully down the first and highest weir. I was mid-shout of ‘YESSSS’ with paddle up victoriously up in the air. When we hit a clump of reeds. And capsized.

Waiting for our chauffer (the little brother of course) at the designated spot, we got some extra date time as the youngin got himself lost and disorientated en route. But all was well redeemed, when he arrived, for Babe had asked me whether prior to the date what my choice of preference was; water or coke. I ordered water.  But getting in the car I noticed it was a choice of beer or water for him, and cider or water for me.

Cider please!

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