In 1996 I travelled to Hong Kong with my brother Ed to stay with my other brother’s brother-in-law and his wife on the edge of a lake in the New Territories.
One night us three blokes went on a real bender in Central HK and eventually returned at seven in the morning by taxi, still rolling drunk and me in desperate need of sleep.
Our host Rob however had other ideas. “Let’s go kayaking in the lake!” he exclaimed. Neither Ed nor I had ever done this before, but our host was very persuasive, so this is stupidly what we did.
I gingerly paddled out into the depths of the lake, trembling at the thought of a capsize, as much so for my brother who was several Bacardi shots worse for wear than me. As flying fish popped out all around us, my second worst fears were realised when Ed tipped over onto his side.
Suddenly I forgot my own fear and raced as fast as I could paddle to his aid. It was only when I got up close that I realised he was floundering in about a foot of water! Rob and I managed to drag the drunken oarsman upright, before we decided that it was not such a great idea after all and retired to our beds instead!
We had twin word choices yesterday, although I admit that my post was not nearly this entertaining! I’m hoping you’ve had some less perilous / hilarious experiences around kayaks since?