Belfast – in the rain, naturally
If there’s one thing surprises people more than finding out I’m a rower, it’s discovering that I’m from Belfast. I’ve pretty much lost the accent after many years on the other side of the Irish Sea, but I’m still a Belfast girl through and through. I grew up thinking Samson and Goliath were giant cranes rather than biblical characters, to say nothing of believing that indoor fireworks were cool. Seriously. I even caused my very own bombscare in P6 when I left my shoe bag outside school (that’s not actually the reason why I left the country, but I’m pretty sure I’m still in trouble for it).
The fact is, though, that I don’t get back to my home town very often, so when Belfast Rowing Club invited me to be the guest speaker at their annual dinner, I didn’t have a moment’s hesitation. Even the fact that it clashed with the Vets Fours Head wasn’t enough to put me off. No Sophie’s Choice this time – it was a no brainer, and my mom and dad were pretty thrilled that the Prodigal Daughter was coming home. So it was on with the BRC colours – oh, and of course the red shoes.
And what a great decision it turned out to be. I couldn’t have had a warmer welcome or a better evening (and in a weirdly symbolic twist the food was even catered by the Fatted Calf). The women’s squad pretty much adopted me as one of their own, and I made a whole bunch of new rowing best friends.
My new rowing BFF, the ladies’ vet squad
So either they’re freakishly tall or I’m freakishly small. Oh…
If that weren’t enough, the club even presented me with this intricately stunning, hand-made pen which is now right up there with my most treasured possessions (alongside that pot and that medal).
Look!!!
With aforementioned club colours
There is one bit of unfinished business, though. Despite earnest claims from the floor that there were one or two BRC rowers who could actually shake it on the dance floor (as opposed to just thinking they could), the promised video evidence has not been forthcoming. So there’s nothing for it but a return visit next time BRC are strutting their stuff.
Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you, BRC, for a fantastic evening (and for making my mom and dad very happy). You rock. Even, possibly, on the dance floor. But until I see for myself, I leave you with this. Judge for yourselves…
