(diaryland) February 12, 2002 - 8:46 a.m.

So, finally, we went rowing, in one of those traditional rowboat things.

At first, it wasn�t rowing. For some reason, I decided to row first. I thought that rowing away from the shore wouldn�t be too hard. I can�t even begin to describe what I was doing for those first five minutes. I was holding the oars, but they weren�t doing the things they do on TV. Namely, going in and out of the water and making the boat go.

Anyone who could see us laughed at us.

Rosie took over and she was a bit better. We started to get the hang of things and get sunburnt. Rosie made up some boating songs. We tried to look professional while rowing under a bridge as a guy and his kid looked at us. I think we looked fantastic.

After a while, I realised that maybe when I was rowing, I should look backwards and see which way the boat was going. Suddenly, my rowing abilities improved tenfold. At about this time, we spotted a chick and a guy in a rival rowboat. The chick was rowing crazily. The boat kept on almost turning around in circles but the chick had a smug look on her face like she meant to zig-zag all over the river. By this time, we had forgotten our humble beginnings and still pretty much humble nowness and laughed at the chick.

�Ha ha! She rows bad! We row good!� we said, which was partly true.

I let Rosie row back to the shore.