Organisational things tend to cost a lot of money as they invariably consist of ordering things from the internet. For a pair of “Tinkys” (Two Incomes No Kids Yet), Lucy and I are suffering a serious financial drought.

A financial drought recently significantly enhanced by Lucy practically writing off her car.

“Writing of her car?” you would say, “surely that is no issue, for that is why we have car insurance to be paid out by the bucket load every month?”

“Ah”, I would reply “however this was a different kind of writing off. This is the kind of writing off which occurs when one negligent car driver fails to observe the low oil light on the car dashboard and continues to drive the car for a distance of some 200 miles”.

It turns out that driving a car for 200 miles with no oil has quite a few damaging effects on such car. The main one of these being that it completely and utterly knackers the engine beyond repair. Mildly problematic given that one cannot claim on insurance for such a clever action.

We are just waiting to hear the final bill, in order for us to decide whether the car is worth repairing. One thing is for sure, combined with the wedding, we are not rolling in it at present!

This nurse wrote about what these patients, teetering on the edge of their lifespans, felt about their life and what their major regrets were.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/01/top-five-regrets-of-the-dying

The article struck a massive chord with me and got me doing quite a bit of thinking. Not because of the patients in the article, but mainly because one of my biggest fears in life is getting old and regretting what I have done with the years which were given to me.

One of the comments mentioned was “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard”. Apparently this was a comment made by almost every male patient – regretting not seeing their children grow up.

I wish I didn’t work so hard now dammit!

With my ridiculous commuting length and the hours I work, I do feel like sometimes I miss out on my home life. And I dont even have any kids!

It pretty much ties up with three of the other comments made for me. One was “I wish I kept in touch with my friends” and another was “I wish I lived the life true to myself rather than the life others expected me to live”. The final one was “I wish I had let myself be happier”.

I tend to live in this eternal state of indecision. How much money is enough money to earn? How much will I climb the slippery pole before I realise that the business I work for doesn’t actually give a crap about me? How much do I actually like my job?

Anyway, I decided this week to take a bit of a step forwards and take an outdoor Mountain Leader training course. I am not 100% sure why, but I wonder if it might lead me to a bit of a different life in the future…

Writing this thing for me has always been a kind of therapeutic release and the primary reason for doing this has hopefully never been a reader gathering exercise. The best thing about this thing has always been that I can look back over all of thee posts (since summer 2007) and see all of the thing I have been doing, thoughts I was having and the place that I was in in my life.

Looking back to 2007, one of the stark things I notice is that I seem to have become quite a lot older in 3 years (to wait, nearly 5 years). Time is not slowing down for me…

In fact time has been passing so quickly in the last 6 months that I have barely had time to even come on here and put up some short posts. Part of the reason for this has been the recent addition to our family (as well as the new house and a wedding to plan for).

Rather than spend days filling all in about our new family member, I spent an evening last night pasting together all of the badly shot IPhone footage of Jessie the Bernese Mountain Dog. This should give you the gist…

(warning video is very cheesy and may cause vomiting)

Chilling out at Clambin, Half-way

At the top of the Ascent

Cabane de Moiry at Sunset

“Day 5 – We set off early again as this was billed as the hardest day o the walk. I was grumpy as we decided to have breakfast a couple of miles in. The weather was good and the views were the most spectacular of the trip as we traversed 3 high passes and to the next cabin”

On arrival I refused to pay the £80 per night fee for staying on a matress in a shared room. We wild camped outside instead.Some parts of the Alps are a spectacular rip-off.

View of the Grand Combin Massif

Col Termin (2,634m)

Col De Prafleuri (2,965m)

“Day 6 – I hardly slept a wink and didn’t feel comfortable at all wild camping. We were on the move early and started walking at 6.15am. We knew the weather was not going to be good and decided to get down to Arrolla”

“The Walk around the lake was long, but nice to pot the Marmots. Big bums v. fluffy. V. Cute”

“We started the ascent, we were tired from 2 days hard walking and a lack of sleep. The ascent seemed to last forever and the rain began to pour. I was v. miserable!”

“The choice at the pass was a latter which was 20m high or 1-1.5 hours of extra walking. I dispaired, I held on to the ladder and started up. 10 steps up I was petrified, we had to go round. It was a well priced hotel that night as we were totally soaked and needed to dry our gear”.

View from Our Wild Camp in the Morning

Boy was it an experience, hauling heavy bags including camping gear, tents and provisions across 180km of ridiculously mountainous terrain. The kind of terrain such that we were ascending twice the height of Ben Nevis in a day – and then were descending again. All with 15kg on our backs.

To be honest, I am not sure quite how we did it. I am even more unsure how we managed to stay on speaking terms, with just one raging screaming match, when Lucy refused to ascend a 3,000m pass in the sno (I had to go it alone while Lucy took the bus).

The days have pretty much merged into one in my memory now, we had thunderstorms, snowstorms, constant rain, burning sunshine and everything in between in our 12 day journey.

Luckily, however – Lucy wrote in the margins of our guide book on a daily basis and I can directly quote from some of that now:

“Day 1 – Epic starting day! The sun was blazing and 30 degrees. We realised we had packed way too much”

Mont Blanc from the Col de Balme

“Day 2 – started at Triente was v. nervous as I knew it would be hard and I suffered yeasterday. So I was a bit stroppy for the 1st hour! However when we got to the glacier – I started enjoying myself – fantastic view!”

Glacier du Trient

“We had our bread and after hearing the thunder we made a move down the mountain. Long trek down with tired legs, no stops and the rain pouring and pouring down. When we came to Relais D’Arpette we looked at their rooms – 47 CHF for a dorm was just too much. We walked the next 30 mins as fast as we could and reached the campsite. We decided to stay in the hope that the rain would clear. The hot shower was bliss!”

“Day 3 – This was supposed to be an easy day but I still found it quite a slog. I had been suffering from a cold and I think the wet the previous day had made me feel worse That night we stayed in a converted bomb shelter. Splashing out on the luxury of eating out, Chicken fajitas felt like the greatest meal I had ever had.”

The Streets of Sembrancher

The light hits the trees in a pretty spectacular way in the late evenings at the moment. One of the reasons I love our move to the countryside!

We discovered the poor little sod, however – hiding under our bed, not really moving and with these weird dilated eyes which made us think that perhaps he had received some damage to the skull or whatnot. Lucy was distraught, as it was around two years ago when our last cat, Beau had been runover.

I would have thought a move to the country would make these incidents a little less common!

We rushed Lenny to the vet, who proceeded to inform us of all of the various problems which little Lenny may be facing. Internal bleeding, head injuries and a definite broken leg. Of course we consented to them keeping him in overnight and taking whatever ex-rays required to sort this out.

Around 3 days and £300 later (they are more expensive per night than 4 star hotels, these places  – the room service is great … but the whole place stinks of cat piss!), we found out that our poor little Lenny didn’t have a broken leg, nor any internal injuries at all.

In fact, he had made friends with all the veterinary nurses and didn’t really seem like he even wanted to come home! Probably something to do with the fact that they fed him much more expensive food than we do.

So we got him home in the end after the obligatory sales pitch about getting pet insurance. I pointed out to the vet that we would have to get our cat run over once per year to make insurance financially worthwhile, and that I already had insurance – its called a credit card.

She didn’t see to understand.

He has some sort of nerve problem with his leg which is preventing him from extending his paw, which makes walking a little difficult (and a little comedic!) but I do feel sorry for the little blighter…

What I wasn’t prepared for was the weekend which Lucy arranged for me on my birthday weekend! I knew she was taking me somewhere, and figured out that it was somewhere south of here and that we were taking camping gear, I deduced that it must be North Wales. I was prepared for that.

What I didn’t expect was for Lucy to arrange a very perfect day on Saturday. Perfect for me that is, for Lucy the day she arranged was probably her worst nightmare!

Up we rose early from our camp site, in the rain, after a fitfull night of sleep. Last year I acquired a very expensive down sleeping bag as I was so fed up of being cold when camping with my rubbish old one. What I didn’t account for was Lucy waking up cold and robbing said sleeping bag from me and giving me her own rubbish, only slightly better than my old one sleeping bag. So cold I was.

On Lucy’s instructions, we set off up Tryfan – a peak which I previously had little knowledge of. And it was glorious.

The sun came out to help us on our long haul up around 650m of rocky ascent. What Lucy probably didn’t account for/understand is that the route we took was a grade 3 scramble (for those not in the know, that is one grade below a rock climb and often needs ropes!), and we had to do said scramble with full backpacking gear (to the bemusement of other climbers), including tents, rollmats, food and sleeping bags. I was in my element! I would recommend Tryfan to anyone looking for a bit of an adventure.

Lucy, who is scared of heights – not so happy, but coped valiantly.

After around 3 hours of ascent, I asked Lucy to show me the map and the rest of the route to our next site. It was only around 8 miles away. 8 miles that is, over 3 more 900m plus mountains. Obviously contour lines were not one of the factors that went into the decision as to which route we should do!

All told, it took us approximately 11 hours, over 4 x 900m peaks, with full backpacking gear, in the driving rain and mist (it started around lunchtime) to get to our next camp. Around 3 hours was added to the journey through losing the path, owing to the fact that the only compass I had was the crap one on my iPhone (never to be trusted again) and we couldn’t see more than 10 yards ahead of us.

Surprisingly we both kept our humour at 6 at night when we were sliding on our backsides down rocky outcrops and heather and we pitched our soaking tent in a soaking field and climbed into it with our soaking clothes on. There was a pint waiting for us in the pub though – which we proceeded to use as a public drying room.

A proper adventure.

Just what I wanted!

Yesterday morning I decided that the only way to do it was to surprise myself! When I woke up I made the decision that I could wait for all the perfect times and moments in the world, but the fact is that whenever we go anywhere the expectation of proposal is there.

So when Lucy came back home from her family holiday I whisked her away for a walk and a surprise engagement…

I thought about doing it last year in Italy, I thought about doing it last summer and over Christmas when we had the opportunity to go away, I got in trouble for not doing it in November when we went to Derbyshire for the 6 year anniversary of our meeting. But in the end I thought that with our new home and our new life in the country – why not do it a little more close to home.

We are heading up to 6 and a half years together now – and have  collected a fair few joint memories already. I have had a loo at some of the old photos of our times together and this is one of my favourites. We had just trekked across and island of the coast of Croatia and we huddled on a rock trying to warm up from our dip in the sea in a remote rocky beach. I guess this is around June 2006.

Lucy never needed a ring to show her how much I love her.

Today I got up early and bundled my outdoor box into the car. Ripping a page from a magasine and filling my bag full of peparami and rubbish oat biscuits I headed onto the motorway northbound. It was raining an cold, which didn’t matter but for the fact I wouldn’t risk my camera to the dampness. I wasn’t going for the view (though the view was good).

I got lost but my trust sat nav brought me through in the end.

The Yorkshire dales was my destination and escape was my goal. The only time I get to completely forget about work and the house. The only time I get to listen to full albums of music, start to end. The only time I get to completely disagree with my brothers appraisal of modern comedy on his podcast and literally swear out loud, though there was no-one there to hear. This only happens when I go solo tramping.

I parked the car up and set myself a goal. The torn page I had told me it would take 5 hours, but I told myself I would do it in 3 and add a bit to it. In the end there was a massive extension, but I didn’t mind. I was there to walk, not to arrive.

I saw only three people in a whole 5 hours. It proved to me that there are still some lonely places in this country, albeit only in the winter and in the rain. The solidarity is absolutely the best bit, however I was joined along the route by a pair of rabbits, which were galloping about the moors together, seemingly disturbed by my progress every 10 minutes. It made me smile.

Of course it was more than likely it was completely different rabbits, but in my mind they were the same. Locked in some kind of weird winding race. Bobbing throught the heather. I wondered how a fox would have to be slightly retarded not to spot them, given that I snuck up on them in a bright blue anorak, Adele blaring from my headphones (a guilty pleasure).

All in all a good day.