But blades, they’re a different matter. I’ve never ice skated so have never experienced anything quite like it. I first tried them out on Christmas Day itself but, perhaps due to the 12 (approximate estimate) bottles of white wine I had consumed by that point, wasn’t the most graceful, and resembled a demented weeble/new born giraffe as I shrieked and careered my way around the apartment. Last week I took the plunge and donned them for a maiden voyage in public. Well, if by public you mean the underground carpark. To be fair, at least three cars did drive past and see me (the horror!). A couple of people openly guffawed as they went past. I mean – that’s just mean.
I can report that once I get going, I am not bad. I can move forwards at an ok speed. The fly in the ointment is that I can't start, or stop. A fact which thus far has put me off going anywhere really exposed eg a park or the beachfront.
But I can’t put it off for much longer. The weekend approaches. And so, I fear, does my humiliation.
PS Rollerblades shown left are for illustration purposes only and are not my actual pair. Although mine are indeed pink. And grey. Which makes them look a whole lot more grown-up. Ok?