We picked up a punt from Scudamore’s that we’d pre-booked online for 90 mins the day before. You save a little money that way. About a fiver. And 90 minutes is plenty enough time. Or so says I, the punter in chief. The puntees might have liked a little longer to quaff a bit more prosecco and binge on a few more strawberries.
Punting is harder than it looks. And it likely will look easy at first glance. Because first glance will be of punts hired with an experienced punter – presumably a Cambridge student earning beer money. I successfully reversed our punt before performing two embarrassingly slow and cringe worthy full circles. I then managed to get going in roughly the right direction, albeit at a 35 degree angle that took me straight into an embankment.
It is possible that I provoked a few guffaws (and in Cambridge, it will be guffawing, not the common chuckle) from viewers on the bridge. But in my defence, I was not the only person who struggled with the learning curve. But I soon picked it up. Buy the time my ninety minutes was up I had two overtaking manoeuvres to my name. I’ll call that winning. Real winning. Not Donald Trump winning.