I looked around, letting my paddle fall on to my wetsuit-clad lap. Tiny waves lapped against my kayak, reeds swayed on the riverbank, clouds scuttled across the sky. All I could hear was rustling leaves and the occasional honk of geese. There wasn’t a person in sight.
Earlier, I had sat in my car beside the river in Yarmouth, gripping the steering wheel, gritting my teeth against the pressure that had been building in my head since I had seen that the tide and wind conditions were perfect for a solo kayak. Inside of me, there were two Annas. One loved kayaking and couldn’t wait to get out on to the water. The other desperately wanted to go home and curl up under a blanket where it was safe.
