So me and... Kevin... headed back to shore. The Thames estuary looked like I felt - a bit flat.
After we did the ropes thing again he said he had a favour to ask. At this point I felt like a massive G&T and a hot bath but said sure, 'cos, like, why not?
Apparently in the summer he'd lost his expensive prescription sun glasses in the lazarette and as I'm a "wee thing" (his words, not mine) it should be a "piece of cake" (ditto). So down I climbed.....
In the dungeon there were not just ropes but chains.....
OMG!! There really were piles of ropes and a muddy chain down there! And it smelled .... of diesel and damp. I slipped and got all wet.... yuck... yuck... yuck!!
"Any sign?"
The hatch slammed shut and I was trapped in the pit....in the dark, alone....
"No, can't see them - I'm coming out!!"
Then it was back to London so I can write this up for JP. But, hey, it was a thrilling gothic adventure - or at least it will be the way I tell it next time I'm out on the raz!
Even if the only shades of grey were between Kevin with his hair (geddit!!) and the Thames mud (ditto!!).
Just don't use the word claustrophobic, ok.
Luv yah!
Sassi xxx
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