Hazewinkel: Belgium
New Year’s Day: As most of Oxford’s student population dragged themselves to bed after a night of celebration, the lightweight squad reconvened for the infamous post Christmas fest of lycra, pancakes and rowing.
I for some reason had imagined Hazewinkel to be situated amongst snow capped mountains, accessed only by a long winding road; something akin to the opening sequence of “True Blue”; knowing that Belgium was as flat as a pancake or should I say as a pannekoken somehow didn’t intrude on that fantasy. Similarly comments such as “Why are you going to Belgium? Are the lakes flatter?” failed to remove Hazewinkel from Middle Earth in my mind. So the reality was somewhat aesthetically disappointing (not a pheasant in sight), but as I was reminded we weren’t there for nature walks, this was an unparalleled opportunity for six days of nothing but rowing (and some pancakes).
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