We are lucky enough to have our very own Poon who lives on a canal boat and allows us to join him for adventures every so often. Seeing as the cat needs his medication every day and the rabbit hates to miss out, when we go, the whole family goes to. Poon is the other half’s cousin and an integral part to many of our adventures, be it land based or river bound. His name came to being from the bewildering depths of the other half’s mind. As did a few of these lovely photos shot at sunrise.
For all those single gals out there, the awesomeness that is Poon, is currently available. Intelligent, fun, handsome, and makes a mean curry. So if you know any awesome ladies who like adventures themselves (and preferably a love of all things Dave Mustaine) then please get in touch! Ok, enough of the pimping.
Poon’s canal boat is very cool, recently painted black and red on the outside with a serious A Team vibe going on. I guess Poon would be Face (notice how I am buttering him up…), the other half would be Hannibal with his incessant route planning/cruise controlling and well, I would be Murdock, constantly dancing, climbing and talking gibberish.
Last weekend we had a great time pootling up and down the river in the last of the glorious remnants of summer. There are two things you should know about the Poon. The first is that he is mercilessly unphotogenic which is the cause of much hilarity in the family (even though in real life he is a handsome devil – more buttering up). And the second is that funny things just tend to happen to poor old Poon.
For example, his boat breaks down. A lot. And one time it broke down in the opposite way and would not stop, which caused much fun attempting to halt an unstoppable canal boat, without obviously the adrenaline rush associated with speed. You generally had enough time to make a brew and dunk a biscuit before having to pull her in. But that’s another story.
Poon tends to attract awkwardness, and we pity that, however the way he handles it always makes us rejoice. As an example, whilst cruising along the Thames with the pirate flag flying, a fellow boater asked if we could pretend that we were pirates and shout at his child for a joke, adding ‘he would absolutely love it’. So Poon enquired as to what the child liked and armed with this knowledge as we pulled away from their boat (at the same time the other half and I quickly jump down to the cabin to steal glances up above at Poon), he shouted at a perplexed child ‘Arrrrrr, give me all your cheese!’ Poon recovered very well after the child stared back at him completely unimpressed and so instead took it out on us for hiding down below, whilst we were creasing ourselves with laughter.
Anyway, the main story today is titled 'the bashing of the branch'. As we cruise along the riverways, we have a little harmless fun at taking it in turns to distract the third whilst one of the others aims the boat towards the overhanging willow leaves, which can be quite a comedy moment as you unexpectedly encounter foliage all around you whilst the other members of the team timely duck whilst childishly giggling.
However on this particular occasion, the other half was flying solo and doing the distracting and the driving at the same time whilst I was reading in a low seat out of harm’s way. The usually oblivious Poon turned to realise just at the right moment that he was about to be had and quickly ducked whilst smirking some such nonsense about being a Jedi, only to jump up quickly amidst his smug grins just in time to have a sneaky low hanging branch thwack him on the forehead. Which to the other half’s credit and I quote ‘I can’t believe he was silly enough to miss that!’
This was bad enough, but the branch had also taken off his sunglasses causing an overdramatic plop in the water. The next problem was that this had all occurred unwittingly to us (at least for a moment) outside a pub garden full of smiling strangers enjoying their lazy afternoon in the sunshine. Their peace was shattered in this order – the sudden ducking, the laughing, the thwack on the head, the shriek of pain, the splash of the glasses, the telling off by me to the other half followed by awkward giggles from him mixed in with a generous dose of guilt. But to top off this entertaining scene was Poon, upright, proud and acting as though nothing had happened. And then the anger was unleashed after we had passed the punters by. The willow tree game has never been the same since. By the way, he still loves us and continues to invite us back, so no Poons were hurt in the making of this blog post. We love you Poon!