“Georgina? Hello? Georgina?” Georgie Brayshaw is parked on a roadside somewhere in Switzerland, in Berne, she thinks, and pressed into the back window trying to get better reception. “How’s Switzer …” The line drops. “… id you say? You cut …” And drops again. “How’s Switz …” A lorry passes. “… raining a lot.” Brayshaw, 30, is on her way back from the World Rowing Cup II in Lucerne with the rest of the GB women’s quadruple sculls team. They won gold, again, just as they did at the world championships in Belgrade last year, and the Europeans in Szeged earlier this one.
At the time of this interview, she has 60 days to get ready for the Olympics, when, although she would never say it, the team will be favourites to win gold again. But Brayshaw takes life one thing at a time, and before all that, she has a long drive to finish, a ferry to catch and, right now, a story to tell. As soon as she starts in on it, the distractions – the static, the traffic, the background chat of the other passengers in the car – fade away. Because it is a hell of a tale.
