Head of the Charles Regatta and others.

There has definitely been a theme of trying new things this year, although you will be forgiven for not knowing that due to the paucity of posts.

I plan to rectify the posting situation by resurrecting this blog and in the immortal words of Highlander, “There can be only one”, so this blog is it.

Strictly speaking I should remain the blog “An English/American in Boston” since I became a citizen last May, but it does not have the same ring to it.

Ok, I have ignored the Head of the Charles Regatta for the seven plus years I have lived in the Commonwealth. Not for me I thought – all those Ivy League types, the rowing community – men in caps and blazers that fit them thirty years ago parading with waspy-waist women in summer dresses, hospitality tents with cucumber sandwiches and white wine, jazz bands, pretentious awards and phony accents. No thanks, not for me sir.

Oh dear, it turns out that I was getting confused with the Henley on Thames Regatta, which I attended on one occasion to receive an award for design innovation – but that’s another story.

The Head of the Charles Regatta was real people having fun, pumped up with live rock and reggae music, lots of free stuff and blessed with glorious fall weather. Wave after wave of rowers, buff, synchronized, almost majestic, swept seemingly effortlessly up the river.

Being amongst fit people of all ages, doing what they enjoy is uplifting to the human spirit. It appeared so exhilarating I almost wanted to take up the sport, but I’ll probably settle for the stationary rowing machine at the gym. There’s less chance of capsizing that way.