Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Back Of The Net!

The title refers of course to what is the funniest showbiz rumour that anyone could ever have deigned to think up - that Alan Partridge - sorry, Steve Coogan - and Courtney Love are expecting a love child. I don't care if it's actually true - I'm just glad that I lived long enough to hear to it. I'm not possessed of the kind of imagination needed to conceive such a story so I'm delighted that somebody else did it for me. If it does prove to be true, will the child shout Aa-haa, whilst wearing miniature Pringle jumpers and shrieking some politically correct feminist rant? Such a thought fills me with far too much glee.

Aoife, Loz, Mike, Angela and I offered up our lives - our lives - to the merciless Shark God, Selacho, that resides in a murky cave in the purest of Arctic waters. On this day, however, Selacho chose to spare our lives and allow us 32 minutes of an experience that will probably prove to be one of the most amazing that I will ever get to sample. It was odd, and strangely moving to be so close to an animal that is unjustly feared - not to mention the giant grouper fish who is apparently fiercely territorial, sting rays, yellow fin tuna, snapper, mackeral and jewfish. There were many types of shark swimming with us - two kinds of nurse sharks, lemon sharks (so named because they are grey), leopard sharks...it was an absolutely extraordinary experience. There will be some photos posted up on the Interweb soon so I will publish the link as soon as I know about it. For all of you who were hoping that I would be fatally injured, I hope that you are in no way disappointed by my survival.

Aoife and Loz flew back to England on Sunday night...it was sad to see them go. It was so much fun having them here and although they may have knocked Koreans for six - most of them weren't sure what to do with two rather tall Irish girls wearing short shorts - it didn't diminish their experience - rather, it probably added to it!

I think I am going to do a diving course in Thailand as a kind of detour on my way home - is this advisable? As my father said, in his most calm fatalistic tone - 'What if you make it through the whole year only to bollocks yourself when you're finished?' A succinct point well made, me thinks.

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