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Breach

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Nel and I first met in a dirty budget motel room in Niagara Falls.

Do not hastily conjure images of flickering red motel lights and cigarette burned bedsheets. Our illicit rendezvous was neither romantic or sensual, simply the meeting of like minded souls. Together we descended behind the falls; the story of which you've likely read.

Nel and I have kept in touch since and exchanged visits. Montreal for me, and London for Nel. She's an eternal font of enthusiasm and excitement bringing her air of positivity to every adventure. This trip was to Breach, also known as the Brixton storm relief.

Breach is a plain affair, concrete upstream and redbrick downstream. The upstream end intersects the Effra Sewer as one of the many overflows. The overflow chamber is deeper than chest-waders can handle, hence the name. We'd been cautioned on wandering too far downstream as the drain passes under the hq of british intelligence. I found this caution amusing, every drain must run under a pub at some point. Keeping this in mind we proceeded slowly but reached the end anyway without seeing anything suspicious. No cams, no laser beams, certainly no fit KGB agents for me and no 007 for Nel. However Mr Bond's Sewer Runner jetski was tethered to an iron spike in the wall which we appropriated for a quick scoot back to the manhole. Surf's Up Otter!