Sadly other canoeing activitities kept me away from paddling yesterday, but Phil said that the river was flowing the wrong way again, so I didn't feel too bad about it. Today, well it's back to the grindstone getting the Riverside Room ready for occupation.

Someone's got hold of some offcuts of ply and glued them to the walls.  Mark contends that it must be Alison, but the rest of us know that she's got taste and discernment, so the vote narrows down to Peter.  Whatever, they're horrendous, so we wait until no one's around and take them off again.  Actually we needed the wood for something else - but they were horrid.

Now I have always thought that both Tim and Graham were quite bright chaps. What with Graham being Scottish and Zimbabwian and Tim being Lord Mayor in waiting. But on Sunday, I watched Graham poring for hours over a sheet of paper trying to discover the difference between a pointy ended screw and a flat ended one - all in the interests of kitchen design you understand. And I watched Tim trying hard to get water to flow uphill. Apparently the Riverside room is higher than the drain inlet, but then the fact that the water doesn't run out of the drain might suggest otherwise? Just a thought?

But then Mark capped the lot with his discovery that if you leave taps on and joints undone, and turn the water mains on, a large volume of the squirty variety will swiftly flood in areas where flooding isn't desirable. The solution - I kid you not - is to drill a hole in the floor to let the water out.

Ye Gods, and I thought they were professionals.

In the interests of group cohesiveness I promise not to write about the holes in the floor, so I won't.

Thursday 24th March

It's that time of year again. Two thirds of the club are to be found lying on canal banks in bits of Berkshire, holding out scrunched up lumps of jaffa cake whilst the rest paddle past trying to catch them in their mouths. Strange game I've always thought. Also it's the time when the residents of Devizes get out their wind up swan, place it on the water and see how many boats it can destroy.

Friday 25th March

Richmond Canoe Club (Junior Division) assembles in Devizes. Meet the Mayor of Devizes and chat while she expertly sets off a large group of enthusiastic juniors. Follow two of our own juniors down the river. Graham sets off first, Henry some time later. As usual, Graham is thoroughly prepared, and I don't have to try and flag down his support crew to pass on his overnight bags so he has some clothes to wear when he gets to Newbury.... Henry is well planned, so well planned that neither he nor Richard know where the race finishes. Resist temptation to stop him at Hungerford and let Graham win, so Henry holds the lead at the end of the first day. A few other clubs racing, but no one of consequence. Get a call from a journalist purporting to be from the Daily Mirror. She tells me that they have some good pictures of a big swan beating up a paddler. Come up with a 3 statement response about goodwill to all swans and don't they make nice duvets. A flash of inspiration gives me a pecking at paddles alliteration.

Saturday 26th March

The remainder of RCC arrives in Devizes together witha few honorary members using our boats (the Paras). Top amongst our contenders are Nevil and Piran. They are so confident of beating Graham and Henry, that they set off a day later and plan to finish a whole day before them. I've paddled with Nevil so I know he can do it. Get a copy of the Daily Mirror. They've gone for the pecking at paddles bit, but got my name wrong. Ah well - it's only the Mirror.

Get asked to start the senior K1s - what an honour. Meet the Mayor of Newbury and chat while I comprehensively get all the start times wrong. Fortunately there's an expert at hand who just sighs and writes down the correct time every time I make a mistake.

Call from distraught overnight crew who've lost a rudder at Hungerford. Receive news whilst negotiating a roundabout at Reading, and almost take out the roundabout. P.S. Hendron who was following thought I'd gone mad. Sprint to Newbury at 69.5mph, and get there about 15 minutes later. Fix rudder and beast crew down to Reading. Curiously enough both the crew and the support crew appear to enjoy this.

Drive to finish camp at Westminster to view the proceedings there. You have absolutely no idea how much effort it takes to make all this happen. A smiling crew of volunteers is busy building tents, wiring radios, testing boats and linking computers.

Sunday 27th March...

...Starts far too early. Even the birds are still asleep as I wearily trundle down to Westminster Bridge. Avoid being arrested by security patrols as I walk past the Houses of Parliament in a wetsuit, paddling shoes and cag. In the water for 05.00 - and I do mean in the water. Most of the crews are too tired to see properly as they finish, many can't walk, and some (about 30%) have had an early morning dip. Many of the boats are thoroughly unsanitary.

The process I'm informed is to stand at the bottom of the steps and wave like demented muppets at the K2s as they come past the finish. For some reason many of them stop paddling - after only 125 miles - wimps, and have to be encouraged to start again before the current takes them down to become a statistic under the London Eye. They have to be encouraged to aim for you, and you have to be fast enough to move. A thump in the ribs from a fast moving K2 is no joke. We chalk up the outstanding boats on the wall in a macabre 'hangman' pattern, and forage for goddies on the bottom the rest of the time.

Stand in water until 12.00. Recover coins, a pram, a cashpoint sign and - I kid you not - some live (blank) ammunition from the water.

Return home, cold and tired.

The alarm goes. Resist temptation to hurl thing across room. 16.00, time for shift 2. Same procedure only colder and darker. Fire Brigade chaps shine torches from their raft upstream then turn them off, and we spend 30 minutes searching for the sunk K2.

23.00 return home.

Monday 28th March

04.00 - God, not again. God refuses to let me off the hook. 05.00 stand in the Thames and wait for K1s, junior K2s and assorted C2s.

14.00 - listen to protests from crews. Graham has this wise look on his face, then I realise he's asleep. Cunning that. Think about my own bed. 16.00 go there.

I've done the DW 1 1/2 times, supported once and now this. I don't think anyone has any idea that it takes a year of meetings, 150 volunteers, 400 paddlers and a lot of hardship just to get 220 kayaks from Devizes to Westminster, past white killer ducks, weirs and lots of big boats. Next year I vote we use UPS, and sign for them on arrival.