There was a kind of executive decision made early in the day, so early that it may have been last night in fact, that, spurred on by the success of yesterday we would again divide into two groups.
While one group would wander off to the markets and shop and have a “girlie” lunch, whatever that is, the other could remain with the boats, talk among themselves manfully and perhaps if they felt like it in the fullness of the afternoon, watch the Belgian Grand Prix on television aboard Arjo free of any feminine distraction.
Thankfully Toby had more than sufficient left over from last night’s feast to provide a suitably grand prix lunch, and having duly seen the race to the end well before the end of the afternoon, those not at the “girlie” event even found time to explore the gallery space in the university that had so admirably provided our shelter for the past few afternoons. Unfortunately the exhibition did not live up to the promise so boldly proclaimed by the architecture, but life in its shadow has more than adequately filled our memories with good times.
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