After a couple of hours on Staple Island I was wishing I hadn’t had my usual large mug of tea with my breakfast. There were no “facilities”. I tried to find a discrete spot, but even the deepest crevices were barely knee deep, and there were a lot of telephoto lenses about. It was a very bare and yet very populated island. A bloke passed us, apparently heading for the edge of the island, stepped over a rope, and actually disappeared, reappearing just a few minutes later, I investigated, and sure enough, on the far side of the rope, steep slippery steps led to an unused quay, well below, and out of sight, of the rest of the island. It was with relief that I began the task in hand (as it were), but it was with horror that I saw an open boat full of tourists appear around the rocky promontory that sheltered the quay. You know those pelvic floor exercises that ladies are encouraged to do? I can confirm that, under certain circumstances, blokes can do them too….
