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You might have noticed… who am I kidding? You noticed. I’ve made it. I’m a local celebrity.

The glare of the written press. (Honestly, I always read the Medway Messenger and the Hertfordshire Mercury and not just since they had an article on me – p42 in the Mercury right next to the article about dogs that eat chips if you didn’t know.)

The live prime time radio interview… who doesn’t listen to BBC 3 Counties in the Middle of the afternoon?

The online presence. Alright, yeah, Bieber’s got his beliebers … but my Twitter followers have been in double figures for at least a week. And I’m not even related to three of them. @canoeingEurope if you haven’t already joined the bandwagon. #pleasefollowmebecauseit’sgoingtobelonelyinmycanoe

Anyway, I was doing an interview recently – another one (that’s two now) – and the kid asked me what was the hardest thing about my trip. I had to tell him, “Kid, it’s just the pressure, the paparazzi, my public. It’s so hard being this fit, this famous and still fitting my ego in a 17 foot plastic canoe.”

I mean, I’m a good looking lad. Alright, I’m a very good looking lad. But literally. The ladies. Lit-er-all-y, all over me.

A girl asked me to marry her on Friday. She may or may not have been joking. The shock may or may not have gone to my head and I may or may not have been sick shortly afterwards. Another girl smiled at me on Saturday. Yes. Smiled. Well, part grimace, part smile. But definitely at least 50% smile. I got a peck on the cheek off a ‘babe’ on Monday night – YOLO. And, I almost pulled the other night. I say almost… I did take her back to mine. However, I think being that night’s chosen canoe for a bit of upstream paddling as you might say… Well it must have gone to her head. When she saw my world-famous bed, she stole my duvet and went to sleep. At least I got to practice using my sleeping bag. True story.

As I say, being a local celebrity is a hard job. My life’s like a Craig David song, but rather than chilling on Saturday I get in a canoe and paddle around the midlands. Just another week in the life of an average Joe, cum canoeist, cum athlete, cum local hero, cum international superstar, cum here ladies I’m still single etc.

So, Nantes on Sunday. I don’t like to blow my own trumpet. But I know I’ll be missed.  YOLO Swaggins, over and out.

*This blog post was not written by James Warner Smith who remains happily married.