Number 22 update

The best way to round off a sunny Sunday lunch with friends in the garden involving a whole bottle of wine, is to strip off and throw yourself into your local river. I cycled with my wife and microscopic daughter to the 'drop-off' - one of the few places where the Windrush is deep enough to dive in - and stripped off.

Like a young Tarzan, I made my way elegantly down the bank ...

concentrated my mind with a brief Johnny Wilkinson pose ...

then unleashed the 'sea lion'.

The cold made me foolishly excited, and I was whooping as I put my boxers on my head in the classic way.

A duck* swam in front of me. Luckily it was EXTREMELY LARGE.

I'm not certain what my microscopic daughter made of this - her face was a mixture of sympathy and amusement; I can only hope it doesn't leave her scarred.

Time to hop out and skip gracefully up the bank like a mountain goat.

As the spot is pretty remote, I only bothered loosely holding the towel in place when getting dressed, and I can only apologize to the woman who suddenly appeared with her dogs. Although I suspect she must have done something pretty awful in a previous life to deserve that sight.

The swim felt like being in the Amazon, let me see a familiar place from a new angle, and was ace. A warning to any dog-walkers - I may be doing it again.

*Twitchers will recognize it as Muscoverupis danglis - a popular summer visitor to our shores.