It’s week six of Lent term and, for some reason, my ankles are stuck fast in slimy sediment at the bottom of a river (which, may I add, I was just informed is riddled with leeches), my wetsuit is too tight in all the wrong places while still baggy enough to let a determined trickle of icy water wash over my shivering body every five seconds – and I managed to lose my paddle ten yards ago. And no, I’m not in the river Cam and this is not a punting trip gone drastically wrong (though I can’t pretend any punting trip of mine would ever go right). Instead, I’m on an aquatic side quest to obtain my British Canoeing qualification (yes, you heard me right). Had I known I was intruding on leech territory in such a way, I would never have gotten in that boat, but ignorance is bliss and all that. Having said this, my weekend of watersports was refreshing – and not only because I fell in, swallowing some of the murky depths but remaining proudly free of E-coli in the process. Every cloud has a silver lining!

“My weekend of watersports was refreshing – and not only because I fell in”

You might be wondering why I needed this qualification in my life, but I kind of like the mysterious aura that comes with refusing to reveal. Maybe I’m just looking to add a little bit more whimsy to my life, in the shape of a canoe (or kayak, I’m partial to a bit of both). Maybe I’m harbouring the far-fetched dream of becoming an Olympic canoeist – something which, if you take my word for it, is no longer looking so far-fetched given the sheer intensity of expertise that I gained from my brief two-day crash course. It feels a little like I’m cheating on Cambridge, but one thing’s for certain, I’d take canoeing over punting any day.

Before every punter on the Cam comes at me for this hot take, just stop to consider what exactly it is that punting brings to the table. A potential drenching? Attack of the swans (I’ve heard horror stories)? An overpriced Pimms you can try (yet fail) to justify purely because there’s an added inflation cost to drinking offland? The relentless paparazzing of eager tourists wanting to capture the average Cambridge student in their ‘natural’ habitat? As if all this wasn’t reason enough to ditch the pole for a paddle (unless you want to fork out a fortune for Scudamore’s) there’s the added pressure to perform. A summertime punt is romantic in theory, but cut to you, soaked, clambering clumsily up the bank after losing your balance and I can assure you, your date will have run away.

“It feels a little like I’m cheating on Cambridge”

Needless to say, there were many reasons I traded the river nearby for a river back home. Also, I really don’t suit the drowned rat aesthetic, so I’d much rather minimise all possible witnesses to that spectacle. Not only this, but you’re way more secure with at least some body parts stored safely within the boat than you are standing on top. Your bank account can rest assured because there’s certainly no Pimms on offer, though if you’re lucky, you might catch a gulp of the turbid river instead – who doesn’t love a freebie! There were absolutely zero tourists to be seen; in fact, there was not another soul out on the water with us so we had it all to ourselves. For the sake of my argument, I won’t mention the resident swan family who seemed to enjoy intimidating us by approaching threateningly. Everything is just better in a canoe – trust me – but it’s no use me making empty claims, you’ve got to go try it for yourself.

“Flipping upside down in a kayak to practise water rescues is about as far from essay writing as you can get”

Realistically, the thing I was looking for most was a distraction. There’s only so much distraction a punt along the Cam can offer when you spot your supervisor walking along Orgasm bridge, or an ex-situationship basking in the sunshine. Let me tell you, it felt freeing to escape Cambridge, even just temporarily, in pursuit of something new and it’s a hobby I vow to continue. Flipping upside down in a kayak to practise water rescues is about as far from essay writing as you can get – and that’s a variation we all need in order to survive these Cambridge terms. Paddling is harder than you might think and it requires complete focus, though maybe that says more about my fine motor skills than the sport in general. However, I welcomed the attention it took, leaving just me, the boat and the gentle sound of the water lapping against its side, all to ourselves. Leaving Cambridge for a few days also gave me the courage to turn my laptop off entirely and though, admittedly, I paid the price for this decision upon my return, it was well worth it for the quality of the (albeit temporary) downtime.

Seriously, next time you’re suffering from a bout of the Week Five blues, you too should hire that canoe and thank me later.