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Wednesday 4 July 2012

Sluttery Fantasy: Swimming to work on a ScubaDoo

Is it still raining? I hadn't noticed. No, of course I had. My umbrella finally bit the dust on Sunday, and shops selling umbrellas have so far eluded me to such an extent that I wonder if they're playing an enormous game of 40/40 and waiting until I've walked miles in search of one before they all come running in to claim their place of safety on the fire hydrant.

When it's this wet, and I am this umbrella-less, and I realise that I've got a hole in my right shoe at the exact point that the pavement turns into a small ocean, I cast my thoughts aside to the wonder that is the ScubaDoo. I could totally drive one of these to work. The way London's weather is going at the moment I wouldn't need to go anywhere near the Thames.

Not only the best-named Scuba product in the world, possibly ever, it's also the most civilised. It's like a scooter, underwater, for James Bond Jetsons. You don't have to be a strong swimmer, you don't need a Scuba certificate, you just perch on the Scuba-Doo's seat and go for a nice explore through the beautiful briny without even needing to put on a mask - you just pop your head in the bubble and air is circulated through from the air tank. It doesn't even go very fast which is fine if you just want to potter, but no good at all if you want to avoid one of those horrible aggressive cyclists.

(This is all in theory, as sadly the ScubaDoo is only available in nice warm places like Australia. Mmm, Australia. Holiday? Can have one?)

Dear lord, when will the rain END.

1 comment:

  1. High five for the Four Weddings reference, aka the most badly delivered line in the history of film.


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