This beard thing.

Oh, and the new glasses. Strutting around thinking I’m cool. Like Elvis Costello.

Secretly knowing I’m gorky. Like Mr Bean.

One of us has lost a toe nail!

Team GB arrived here in Negril after 20 hours of travel, happy to have landed in paradise but rather fatigued.

And never mind Elvis Costello and Mr Bean. The locals seem to think I’m Mr Spliffy…….

As the coach driver pulled my cases from the under belly of his vehicle, he leaned in to me and whispered “You smoke weed? It’s good!?”. Couldn’t he see I’m an elite athlete in town to represent my country?

We awoke this morning, on this lush and majestic island, to pouring rain. I mean tropically heaving down…..

Nicky using the hydrotherapy pool.

A hearty breakfast. Does EVERY international athlete give the all inclusive breakfast a 3 course kicking? Never mind carb loading, we’ve taken the science out of it…..

It’s now simply called LOADING!!

We left breakfast as the emptied heavens took a breather to reload and massaged our athletes’ feet in the warm Caribbean Sea.

“Smoke?” enquired a suitably languid beach trader. We politely declined.

We sauntered towards our chosen berth on the glorious sand, passing another trader, casually dragging his feet along the water’s edge.

“Ya man…..?” As his hands mimicked the action of partaking of the leaf on offer and his eyes demonstrated the effects …….

No thank you, old chap, but please accept our thanks for considering us in your plans.

Beach traders here – just a gentle “no thanks” and you get a Marley salute and a “respect” and left in peace.

Any way 5 days until we pull on the Team GB vests and tackle the Reggae Marathon.Reggae Marathon.

No nerves yet………