Poldark and ponies

T’S been a season of shift. What we planned in March for the months leading to autumn – geographically, economically and practically – has changed somewhat. We had intended to go to Portugal, to the opera in Verona and to France for some maxi cheese and bread consumption. I reflected on this as I sat, sweating and slightly panicky, on the edge of the bath in our last-minute holiday cottage rental in Cornwall, with a wetsuit stuck just below my knees. Top tip for the wetsuit virgin: when dragging yourself into a damp and salty rubber-gimp in which Ross gets stuck trying to talcum powder and moisturise his way back into his leather trousers. I think the heaving, dragging and sweating before zipping up must be part of the science. Set your temperature to boil going in, zip up and trap in the heat (although I’m informed doing a quick wee inside it has much the same effect with far less effort).