Wakeboarding sits somewhere below snowboarding but above kite-boarding in the sideways credibility stakes. It may well be primarily practised by people whose parents have wealth management specialists cold-calling them whilst they are reading the “how to spend it” section of the FT at weekends, but it is actually quite fun.

Back in 2002, when I returned from a long winter spent in Whistler, and settled into the fulfilling rhythm of kissing corporate ass and executing a career development plan in London, I turned to wakeboarding to keep my stoke alive at weekends. I was amazed at how entertaining it was being dragged by a cable around a lake full of duck shit, and it also gave me the chance to learn upside-down stuff in a low risk environment (without having to go full pussy/jock on a trampoline). Yes, I had to adopt some dubious fashion tics to fit in (shorts over the top of a wetsuit, bad look), but it helped me learn some new tricks, and bulked up my guns in the process.

But for god’s sake, don’t let any skateboarders know you wakeboard.