Having survived a water collision I decided that I should get straight back onto Roger this morning (although I did avoid all canals, towpaths and deep-looking puddles).
I gained a renewed appreciation for roads. They go in reasonably straight lines, there are rules for overtaking and which side you're on and, although there are potholes, asphalt tends to have less broken glass, bits of brick and mud than towpaths. In fact, I may never have to go on a towpath ever again. Ever.
Not because I'm frightened, obviously, but because I don't need to. Yes, it's all about necessity. Am definitely not frightened. At all.
I have also gained a renewed appreciation for Roger. He's pretty damn bomb-proof, as evidenced by his ability to take me home and back out following a near catastrophic water landing. I'm actually glad I fell in rather than him. For one thing I float.
Mr Weenie was also very lovely about it all and, although he did start to giggle, when he saw my various scratches he gave me lots of 'That looks sore', 'Do you need some Germoline?' and 'You are a bit silly but I love you anyway'. Thanks is also due to the foxy bird who took me for a beer last night, she was the only person who realised I was actually quite shaken and was only laughing because everyone else was.
In other news, Roger and I are popping to Westfield tonight. with its shiny bike racks everywhere and the Uxbridge Road being so close I'm hoping it'll be a lovely excursion. No canals either. Phew.