Sculling

This morning's rowing practice took an unexpected turn.With an odd number of people showing up for practice, and nobody from my college, I was finally allowed to get a go at sculling.

After the Chinese University of Hong Kong College Championships, the rowing season slows a bit (helped a lot by exams) before cranking back up to 2 x 4 hour practices a day, 6 days a week, from early June to early August, where the Universities compete for Hong Kong glory. This, coupled with the exchange students' desire to not let any night go to waste and hence go out on the lash as often as possible, makes getting up at 7:00 to go rowing kind of lose its charm. But for me it is a perfect excuse to get away from my report-writing and get some exercise.

After an extensive introduction on safety (the Chinese, for some reason, completely forget that you have spent the last 3 months rowing, and find it imperative to repetitively tell you to not bash people over the head with your oar), I hopped into my single sculler and immediately almost flipped it. The boat, weighting no more than 20 kg, is only about half a meter wide, and until you get the feel of handling two oars instead of one, you want to refrain from sudden movements. My coach looked like this was the worst idea in the world, and from his aggressive Cantonese conversation and the excessive use of the word "gweilo" (literally "ghost man", a slang term for a white foreigner) did not sound reassuring.

However, after a tips and tricks, as well as a general understanding of the physics of the boat, things looked much brighter. The first 10 minutes were slightly shaky, but from then on it was great. It reminded me of bicycling in Denmark, alone in nature, just man and machine, with nothing to do, but to let your thoughts go. With a clear blue sky and a slight breeze, it was the perfect way to spend 2½ hours a Saturday morning.