Sunday mornings are traditionally a great time for relaxing. Normally I’d be reading the papers, with a pot of coffee on the go, winding down from the week and looking forward to a delicious Sunday roast. On this particular Sunday, however, I found myself sitting in a damp wetsuit in a kayak in the middle of Bray Lake. The sky was bright blue, the sun was shining, the air was fresh and, although you might find this hard to believe, I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.
The closest I came to my Sunday lunch however was being trussed up like an oven-ready chicken wearing a wetsuit, waterproof jacket and lifejacket. I could barely breathe, let alone bend in the middle enough to lean forward and paddle.
We started in a very civilised manner with a revitalising hot cup of coffee. Dressed in all the gear we then squeezed ourselves into our two-(wo)man kayaks and a helping hand pushed us very delicately off the dock. We all tried very hard to stay upright and not to rock the boat for fear of capsizing into the icy cold water. And so we set off across the lake. Carefully. A lone windsurfer stood at one side of the lake trying to catch enough of a breeze to move. But it was still. Should we tow him or would that involve leaning too far to one side and risk capsizing? We said hello but with survival in mind we paddled past.
Once the initial concern about taking an early morning dip had subsided we all managed to get into some sort of rhythm with the paddling and before long all three kayaks were moving gracefully across the lake. It was very peaceful out there in the middle of the lake except for the occasional blood-curdling screams of the bungy-jumpers. A morning to remember.
