Living in the real world

Extremely drunk.

More later…

Eating ice cream.  Tired.  Been a long day but actually not as bad as I thought it would be at work.  Sick people behaved themselves for me.  Which is nice.  Still have a massive presentation to prepare (i.e. do) for Thursday, so that will be done tomorrow night then.  Excellent.

Went down to Brighton, discovering a new and quicker way to drive into the centre and park.  That only took me 6 years then.

Saw two flats and their occupants and both were really nice.  In completely different ways.  Hmmm.  The people also seemed really nice.  It must be really hard to assess what people are like in a short half hour meeting.  I mean, I was tired and feeling unwell (illness + cough + steep hill = wheezy and SOB Andy) and frankly a little shy at the first house.  I wasn’t quite know how to act and be, so I was a subdued version of myself I think.  Loosened up at the second after realising this.

Flat hunting and meeting new potential flatmates / friends is kind of like speed dating.  Small, short interactions with people, trying to put yourself across as someone desirable to live with despite not knowing how they think or what they are looking for, all with the possibility of spending the next year of your life with them.  It’s a risk.  I suggested the top three potential should be made to endure a competition against each other in a series of small challenges.  That would sort them out (and probably be quite fun).  If I had both flats offered to me I’m not entirely sure which I would accept.  One will let me know tomorrow so we shall see.

(I’m also conscious of the fact that potential new flatmates could be reading this after following the link on my MySpace page so I’m not saying too much on purpose.  Ha ha).

Realised I’m also on holiday for all of next week to better organise something for that too.  And Ulka asked me to sort out the music for her party on Thursday.  Now as happy as it makes me to be specifically asked I’m not sure I will because though I like my music and so does she, everyone else here gets really arsey and complains about ‘my taste in music’.  I mean it’s not like I play Mogwai and Low at the party – I have dancing, fun music with an indie bent.  I just don’t have the Pussycat Dolls or Girls Aloud.  So I don’t want to have the grief (which has already started from a couple of people) as it will piss me off and I’ll sulk.  Ha ha.  No I won’t but I’d just rather avoid the hassle.

Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a movie quite like that. You have to go and see this now, even if just to see how it affects you. This is dark and sinister and bizarre. It’s frightening and it’s uncomfortable. It’s brave and challenging and deeply disturbing. Yet it’s also perfectly innocent and that’s what really got me. You can really tell it’s a Terry Gilliam film. No one else quite like him. This man should be allowed to make whatever he wants.

The story is extremely dark but it’s told through the eyes of a child and that’s how you have to see it (as Mr Gilliam himself explains in the intro – and after watching it I really understand why he did that). Visually it’s stunning, with wonderful fantasy elements, use of colour and some exquisite cinematography. But the performance of Jodelle Ferland as the young Jeliza-Rose whose world we are drawn into is phenomenal. Right from the beginning it’s captivating. She is so wonderfully accomplished that she carries almost the entire film. If this had been portrayed by some one with less skill the film would have been on very dodgy ground but she absolute convinces.

It reminds me of Pan’s Labyrinth (another truly wonderful film about the horror of life seen by a child) and is every bit as exciting, dangerous and disturbing. Also, every bit wonderful, fantastical and tragic.

I genuinely felt very uncomfortable throughout bits of this and it did challenge me but by the end I was completely overcome and realised I had tears in my eyes. A very powerful movie. I really want to watch it again with a few friends who would really get it. Watch it.

Feeling a little bit better but I’ve got a dirty cough which is unpleasant.  Today was a bit of a blow out.  Got down to Brighton after lunch and mooched around in the grey rain.  And the guys I was supposed to meet up with to check out the flat never showed.  Turned out (later) that she had lost her phone last night.  So, nothing really achieved but I did buy some music, some comics and a dvd.

There’s a really good, small indie/alternative record store in the North Laines called Resident which pretty much has everything that isn’t part of the mainstream including all the indie from the US and Canada.  Basically my shopping heaven.  Can’t wait till I can go there every week and buy music slightly more eclectic than that at HMV or Virgin.

Picked up the new album by The National:

I really liked Alligator and this is as good on first few listens, maybe better (though there’s nothing quite so exciting as Mr November).  The melancholy, subdued vocals are really enchanting and there’s some great percussion work here.  It’s very peaceful despite all the guitars and wotnot.  The Editors should take note.

I also bought the début album from Amiina:

They provided the string section for Sigur Ros on the last few albums and this is their debut.  It’s all quiet, melodic, wispy, beautifulness with a host of strange instruments.  Really quite lovely and great for unwinding.  Can’t wait to let this one sink in a bit more.  Plus, the cd packaging is great – it’s a thick, gatefold cardboard sleeve (similar to the stuff they make young kids books out of – the ones you can really chew the corners of) which looks and feels divine.  Always nice to see thought going into packaging.

I also bought Tideland by Terry Gilliam which I’ve been meaning to buy for a while, so will let you know what I think of it once I get round to watching it (maybe tonight if I get my arse into gear and actually do some of the things I need to do before morning comes around).

Off to Brighton again to tomorrow to check out another flat (and have a few lined up for next weekend) so fingers crossed.  Chilli on the hob, bubbling away.  I’m off.

This guy is amazing!

I’ve never heard anything that good before. I love the short bit at the middle when the fat bass goes mental and then he drops it back to the beat. Simply outstanding. And the funniest thing? The really muted response from the French judges when he finishes. Anywhere else and they would have exploded (you can see they wanted to).

I finally got around to watching Broken Flowers while home alone and feeling poorly (though slightly better than before). And I’m not sure what to make of it. Seriously.

It suited my current mood and need for quiet. I got a little tired at the camera work and didn’t always like the style or composition. There were a few scenes and characters that really surprised and delighted me (Lolita was dangerously innocent; Chloe Sevigny’s secretary stole the entire movie). Bill Murray is always a joy to watch but when it really came down to it I feel he did a similar thing to much more powerful effect in Lost in Translation. I’m not even entirely sure I liked it but it has left me thinking which I appreciate. Plus it has a great soundtrack. I would recommend it as an experience.

To bed (and hopefully better health tomorrow). Off to Brighton tomorrow to meet up with potential new flatmates.

Ill.  Motherfucker.  Sore throat and headache and tight, wheezy chest.  Bad.  Feel like shit.

So I was catheterising someone this evening (at work, not just for fun) and as I was preparing all the stuff he said to me, ‘Do you have any scissors there doctor?’. Er, yes. Why? ‘Oh, I was wondering if you could trim my pubes for me…’. Ermmmmm…I’ll ask the nurses after. All that from a very sick guy in his 70s. He was being serious. Ha ha ha. Pretty fucked up.

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And then tapas with friends. And tomorrow all alone on the ward which means it’s going to be a stressful and long day and also means I can’t bitch slap my SHO for giving me his chest infection. I’ve got that wheeze and heaviness coming on and a catch in the throat. Bastard. Don’t want to be ill.

Actually never had to really do this before so it’s a new thing for me.

Need to find somewhere to live in Brighton next year. Preferably with 3 other ‘young professionals’ in a flat-share, close to the centre, with fun people who are friendly. Not too much to ask for. Hmmmm. So far have found 3 potentials and have shot off emails. And to top it all off the very first flat I found (via Facebook) is someone who knows my mate Toby (my longest ‘serving’ friend). Small world.

Don’t have that much time though before I have to move (what with going on holiday again soon). Then this made me all smiley:

Yes I’m such a child. Yes, and a geek. So? Later.

Great weekend.

Decided to be a good son and go home home for the weekend. Spent Saturday hanging out with my little brother and we saw 4: Rise of the Silver Surfer which was about as good as I was expecting (a lot better than the first but not the Greatest Movie In The World). The Fantastic Four have always been young and goofy to me and the movie pretty much got that right. Story was silly and overblown, acting ok, effects great and not too long. Could have been much worse and the Silver Surfer spin off could potentially be awesome. Here’s hoping.

Didn’t end up furious with Mum so that’s a positive! Came close when she decided to point out ‘well, you are almost 30…’. WHAT! No. NO. No no no. I’m not. Jesus. She’s still not found anywhere to live yet though.

And then Sunday with my step-family and Dad for Father’s Day. Translated = the whole day either beating up or being beaten up by my two nephews. Ha ha.

Spent a lot of time on the monkey bars and climbing frame (I really fucking want one of those – so much fun). By the evening I was so worn out and battered and bruised that I decided to end it in the traditional manner by thoroughly soaking the two of them with their super-soaker resulting in two sodden kids, a few tears and a victorious Uncle Andy! Ha ha.

Being big is great! (speaking of which I’ve put weight on- in fact I weigh more than I’ve ever weighed before and have finally broken the 10 stone barrier! Ha ha. Never been that much before – go me. Of course, everyone I’ve told wishes they could be only 10 stone and then got moody).

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Skip forward 4 hours and I’m quite drunk. Got called by the Sarah and Maddie who are having an ant infestation and needed ‘a man’ to sort it. Guess Mike was unavailable so they called me. Turned up to find S wearing an item of clothes that really gives credence to the word ‘shorts’ and both near hysteria. But unscrewed the side of the bath – site of the infestation, discovered and destroyed the ants nest (not pleasant) and looked heroic! That’s my man quotient filled for a while. Makes up for the lack of any other masculinity.

Then Ulka came round and we’ve hung out and polished off a bottle of rather nice Rioja and some Cognac. And then I realised I’ve run out of alcohol (except for that horrible Welsh whisky Rob bought a while back). We arsed around on Facebook and t’internet, talked about animal costumes and generally had fun. Now I need to go to bed. So I shall.

Night.

I didn’t cope very well for the first few days. Stepping off the plan in Phnom Penh airport hit me. Or rather the heat did. The invisible wall of hot, wet air that clung to surfaces and skin and stuck clothing together. I’d been to hot places but this was the first really humid place I’d been to. And I don’t do well with heat.

I should have stuck with my original plan (as much as I ever have a plan) but clinging to the back of my moto driver, full backpack attached, ducking in and out of traffic as we sped down the main road to the city, clipping cars with my straps and helmet-less, we chatted. To do this he kept turning his head back to talk. I preferred it when he looked the other way (the way facing the direction the other cars were coming from) but regardless we talked (the usual ‘Been here before? Where you staying?’ banter) and I ended up staying somewhere else from where I intended. I knew where the area was – it was my backup location if the first failed and I decided to ignore the very real possibility that he was just touting for trade (which he almost invariably was). And I was tired. I never make good decisions when tired. And hot. And just got off a stupidly long flight. Still.

I hated it. Almost a hotel. No communal area and an apparent desire to segregate guests. And the heat. For the first few days I had to drag myself out of the air conditioned white room (before I realised air-con makes it worse and the real way to cope is just to adapt). I dragged myself out for food I didn’t enjoy, to dark streets where I didn’t feel safe. I spent a few days as a tourist and ‘saw the sights’. I didn’t like any of them. The sun was too bright to take decent pictures with my ailing camera. Everything bleached. I baked. I learnt about spontaneous full body sweating. And I didn’t meet anyone else. And I felt really lonely. I think that’s the first time that’s happened when I’ve been travelling. Usually I’m so hyped up at being in a new place that I just ride over it but this time it hit me.

Maybe it was the circumstances. The previous 3 months had been spent on overdrive studying for clinical finals. I had to find a place to live again in Tooting for the exams. Along with all the other stresses.  But it all went fine and I passed and it was great and I had an amazing week after results where I finally learnt to love London.  And it left me in a strange head space. I was suddenly ‘free’. I had nothing to do any more. My job didn’t start for over a month. I had no revision, no learning, no goal.  I was on holiday.  Truly. The last time I would have that amount of time off. And I didn’t feel right. I wanted to be back home. I could almost see why some people just jump straight back on the plane and head home.

After three days of feeling lost and misplaced I found myself wandering along the river bank looking out over the dirty water to the unappealing view the other side. It was around midday and getting really hot. Up ahead was a bandstand and there were a lot of people (Cambodian people) sitting around, sleeping, talking. Kids playing. I walked up there and sat on the railing. Two girls around my age started talking to me in that giggly way that girls have (the one where there’s an intensely amusing joke involving you, that they know but aren’t willing to share). They offered me some of their food (a snack of some kind involving insects) and I returned the favoured. I forget anything else about them and after a while they left.

I moved under the shade of the bandstand; not that it helped at all, the wet air pervading everywhere. Some of the kids came up to me and started talking to me in pretty good English. The youngest must have been 3, up to 10-11ish. They sat with me and stroked my arms. I couldn’t work it out then but later realised it was because I’m hairy and Cambodian men just aren’t (this happened a lot and I got stroked repeatedly by kids and men and on one occasion a monk who kept stroking my beard – that was weird). We all sat together, slowly baking, they stroked their hands up and down my arms and I felt relaxed. A man (I think the Father of one of the kids) came and sat and just started chatting with me, backs against the white stone pillar, legs out in front, feet down. Shooting the breeze. We talked about each other, what we did, how we lived, out countries, he talked about the Kymer Rouge and the massacre of all his family and I listened. And he repeatedly apologised for his English.

I think we sat there for almost two hours, avoiding the midday sun. There must have been about thirty people lounging around. It was pretty dirty and I came to realise that they were all homeless street people, coming together in a place to avoid the sun and midday heat. And I had joined them inadvertently and shared a few hours in their company. He was one of these people and we conversed for almost 2 hours in English and he was apologising to me. I couldn’t believe it. At that point I hadn’t even learnt how to say ‘Hello’ in Cambodian and this guy who loved on the streets with no formal education could speak English almost as well as I could. I repeatedly praised him and he repeatedly batted the compliments away.

After a long while he got up, thanked me for the conversation and for allowing him to practice his English, wished me a pleasant stay in his country and hoped that I would enjoy Cambodia and her people and then took leave. He never asked for anything. He didn’t want anything. He was just happy to chat with a stranger and share a bit of his life.

After a while I got back up, wandered off, ate dinner and the next day left for the country. I’d come to the conclusion that after all the recent stress back home I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to cope in the city. Not just yet. The few hours I’d spent in the bandstand helped with this realisation and I’m not even sure how. It just helped me to look at things differently.  Maybe restored some faith in people that I’d misplaced along the way.

So I got on a bus the next morning (after a local taught me how to eat noddle soup with chop-sticks at breakfast) and headed to Kampot. On the bus I met Paul and Phoebe and spent the next 2 days with them and they made me feel like me again, just by being nice. I ended up staying a week just bumming around in Kampot, hanging out with a few good people I met there, drinking copious amounts of gin in the evenings, wandering the village and surroundings talking to random people in the day.  And I adapted to the humidity.  It was wonderful. A week later I went back to the city en route to Siem Reap and I really liked PP this time round. And the other 4 times I went back over the next month in Cambodia, I loved it. I needed that quiet time first though.

(I stayed in the location I was originally going to stay in the second time around and it was amazingly good fun and I met loads of cool people. I wonder what would have happened if I’d stayed there the first time round?)

It’s felt like a crappy day.  Felt like as I’m not entirely convinced it had reason to be a crappy day but that’s what it felt like to me.  I’ve been so tired.  Up early as we were post take and had a lot of patients to sort out, some quite sick.  My eyes were tired today and I’ve just been lacking energy.  Didn’t go to We will rock you in the end as I felt so drained when I finished I just couldn’t cope with it.  Plus I’d decided during the day that I didn’t really want to go anyway.  So got home and promptly fell asleep for almost 2 hours.  I need to start getting early nights.  I mean real early nights.  It’s not going to happen anytime soon.

I’ve noticed I’m clenching my jaw again which is something I do when I’m stressed.  I’m having to concentrate on not doing it as it’s making me tense and giving me a headache.

Probably the best thing to happen today was that I got to dictate my first discharge letter (opposed to just writing them out by hand).  Using the little dicta-phone thing was really fun.  I so want one.  God knows what I’d do with it but it’s fun to play with.

Sleep now.

Not the greatest on call but not the worst either.  Felt long though.  Highlight was the three of us running the length of the hospital for a chest pain call during the middle of the day, dodging patients.  I say running but it was more Bay Watch style running – lots of arm movement.  I think we were actually moving at normal walking speed but it looked like we were running.  And it was an unnecessary call.  And I hurt my knee.

Later a friend surprised me by being more insightful regarding me than anyone has for a while.  For a long while.  Someone ‘got’ me.  And it made me smile.  I’m frankly not used to people listening enough (and then not actually thinking about the implications of what’s been said.  Or what hasn’t).

So tomorrow a group of us are heading up to London to watch We Will Rock You.  I’m not sure what possessed me to say yes to this venture.  I mean, I pretty much grew up on Queen (along with Status Quo, Jean Michelle Jarre, Dark Side of the Moon, Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds – thanks Dad; and Dr Hook – thanks Mum) but that kind of died for me a while back.  Aside from every George’s disco I’ve gone to I’ve not listened to Queen for years.  Oh well, my Dad’s seen it and said it was good and I guess it’ll be different to the usual.

So what would I rather be doing in my oh so exciting life?  Well, sadly watching Battlestar Galactica.  After sticking on my brothers dvd of the pilot out of curiosity last year – it was 11pm and I was back home and wanted to watch something – 3 hours later when it finished, I could barely move and was hooked.  I’m halfway through season 2 now and just watched ‘Pegasus’ and I’ve realised quite how much of an emotional attachment I’ve developed.  It’s that point where you start shouting at the screen when things fuck up and it all turns bad and things change that you don’t want and you get upset.  I mean really upset!  When you start talking out loud at the show you know you care.  Annoyingly it’s a 3 parter (didn’t know that to start) and has a big cliffhanger and it’s too late to watch the next two.  Grrrr.  Haven’t felt that strongly about a show since Buffy.  Ha ha.

Such a loser.

Forgot to mention – amidst all the fun at the weekend I bought some comics and then spent a while reading them in the sun in the little park behind the Astoria.  When I realised I was going to be late I wandered up to Oxford Street to catch the Tottenham Court Road tube and stumbled upon the annual World Naked Bike Ride.  Yep, every year a load of bike nuts get on their bikes and ride around London (and indeed the world) protesting about cyclist rights and how evil cars are.  Naked.  Yep.  That’s naked.

Now personally I can’t imagine being on a bike naked is the most comfortable experience for males or females but there you go.  Lots of people had body paint (those two with the full body orange paint got cheers) but my favourite was the rickshaw with both driver and passengers all starkers.

And just because you won’t believe me here’s a crap picture from my phone (it just took me about half an hour to work out how to get the bloody thing from phone to internet so enjoy it):

I love London sometimes!

Plus, I know that it’s been out for a while but All my friends by LCD Soundsystem is great.  Really great.  As is D.A.N.C.E by Justice.  Enjoy the vids and hit the floor.

So a frankly shitty week at work destroyed any refreshment my holiday instilled in me and a truly bizarre final two days almost did me in. But then came going out. And friends. Oh yeah – and alcohol.

Thursday was Humphrey’s birthday celebration and we found ourselves at Tiger Tiger in Croydon. Good food but no atmosphere. After we finally left the table we were pretty much the only people in there. So we eventually left and headed back to Liquid/Envy in oh so fun Redhill (it’s our local club and considering it’s a small provincial venue it’s usually quite entertaining. As long as you get there drunk. Very drunk). Turned out to be a great move as it was really busy with live MCs (quite amusing). Later after more drinks and the introduction to the night of tequila we went home and myself, H and Ulka decided to stay up listen to music and drink more. At 4.30 it occurred to me I had to be in for 9 so went to bed.

Leading onto a weird day on the ward. And a very tired day. But I kept going. And that night headed back ‘home’ to Tooting for the Part 5 disco. Oh yes, a full year has passed since we qualified and now it’s the time for all my friends in the year below (for the lonnnnnng time readers I’m talking about Louiza and Lily and all the others). And they all passed which is awesome. And we drank and danced and met people and had fun.

Saw some old friends – some still felt they couldn’t talk to me (wasn’t that years ago?), some I enjoyed catching up with after far too long and some just made my week. There were almost as many of the old gang there as newly qualified form-fillers-in.

Actually, to be honest I did feel slightly out of place to start. Nervous I guess at seeing certain people on the old territory. It’d already hit me after turning up at my old house and having the door opened by someone I once took home while VERY drunk (I’d forgotten she’d moved in – Arash thought it was quite amusing to let us both find out without warning – cheers, ha ha). And then we arrived (after curry at an old favourite) to discover the ‘new’ bar. The one promised to us for the whole 6 years of our tenure but never realised till after we left. And it looks good and trendy and fun…but not George’s.

But then the music kicked in, crazy dance floor shenanigans brought on smiles and an old friend decided to renew a friendship back in the place that started it all. And that meant something. (You never seemed to miss me as much as I missed you… ‘Well what choice did I have? I was left out there alone while you all had each other’). JD and Sambuca kept it all lubricated and the time flew.

So, yeah. It was a year ago since last there. And it was fun and it felt good and I’m really glad I went. I also think that was probably my last hurrah at George’s. I think I can move on now.

So the next day after finally getting to bed at 4.30ish (again) I was pretty much running on gas. Had coffee with Rashida and Nazneen which was nice but too brief as I turned up late (as per usual). Then headed up on the tube into central.

Nearly all of my experiences in London these days, dirty stop out that I am, are shaped by a slight hangover, unwashed, smelly jeans and a vague odour of lager (from getting spilt on the previous night), smoke (though thankfully less as the new smoking rules kick in) and sweat. Ha ha. I bought comics and then went up to Camden to hang out with Antony for the afternoon.

Turned out to be a really nice afternoon – sitting on the floor beside the lock drinking wine (which pretty much levelled me by the second glass – I think the lack of food and sleep had got a bit too much by then), in the sun with a friend talking about life, music and anything. It was nice.

Train home. Walked the few miles back to my house and: SLEEP.

Still knackered today but been taking it easy and Getting Things Done. Like washing what seems like all my clothes. After a bit of hunting I managed to find and rig up an impromptu washing line and for the first time this year have line-dried clothes. Excellent.

Anyway, it’s been a great way to round the week off and I’m now cooking, going to read some Batman (The Long Hallowe’en) and then get an early night. One of those mythical early night things. I’ve heard they’re good.

Later

My car failed the MOT today. Which was annoying. But they fixed it relatively easy and it didn’t fail on major things. Which was good. Then they charged me £171. Which is not so good. At least I don’t have to do it for another year.

Climbing also was rather lame today – it’s only been a few weeks we’ve had off and I seem to have lost all strength and skill. I did however climb two 6A routes which is a step up. No cheating or falling either so it’s not all bad. Plus my arms and indeed whole body are wiped out so I should sleep well.

Which I almost couldn’t do after locking myself out of my room. Got so excited about my car being back that I picked up my car keys instead of house keys. Fool.

And just before I go to bed: you should subscribe to the KEXP podcasts. You really should. They’re a radio station based in Seattle (I think), playing a decent selection of music. Best of all though is there daily free song podcast. Get it and then you can listen to the wonderfully bouncy and fun You! Me! Dancing! by Los Campesinos! They’re a Welsh band and frankly this song is one of the most joyous tunes around right now. Heard it a few times on the radio and then got it for free through the podcast. There’s a lot of other good stuff including tracks by Low, The Shins, Battles, Spoon, Maps, Peter Bjorn and John, Ted Leo etc.

Download. Listen. Be happy!

Night.

Last week a bunch of us went to the Lake District to climb Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England (3205ft) as preparation for Three Peaks which is now of uncertain date as we’re all getting busy with work. Still. Not really knowing what to expect and getting freaked out at driving there between increasingly big peaks we gave it a go. And it was fine.

Got up and down in just over 4 hrs which is pretty good considering we weren’t rushing and rested for 20 mins, shivering with the bracing wind on the summit. Nice view and a wonderfully clear day to climb, which is apparently a bit of a rarity. Look how happy we all look (and ignore my terrible walking get up and rolled up trousers):

We met a few guys doing Three Peaks and chatted to their drivers as they raced up. I think it’s possible for us to do it in 24hrs though more stamina training wouldn’t go amiss.

Anyway, we hung out, arsing around in a boat on Windermere on Sunday:

And walked a gentle route on the Monday, looking around some very cool caves. All inter-spaced with time spent in places such as:

I really need to learn to like beer. Not for the first time have I thought this. It would make life so much easier sometimes. I don’t want to ‘acquire’ the taste though. I want it from the beginning. That’s why I drink wine and whisky and gin. All taste great naturally.

After that, the guys went back and I stayed up there for the week to relax. I’ve mentioned before about being really stressed at the moment. Work has been hectic recently and we’ve got some bad family stuff at the moment so I needed to get away from it all. And I’ve discovered (much like Wordsworth before me (but far less eloquent)) that the Lake District is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. I’ve had the best week.

It helped that the weather has been great (even better that it’s rained back here). Spent the entire week hiking, climbing mountains, spending time outside and generally being quite active. After trekking in Nepal I really grew to love walking, especially as a way to escape and find peace but never considered England could compare. Ok, so height wise…not so much, but scenery and splendour: absolutely. The rugged, wild and open spaces, the mountains and peaks and tarns, the solitude of the long distance walker, the brief but friendly interactions you have with complete strangers 5 miles from anywhere up a mountain. It’s all just perfect. I’ve found it to be a form of mobile meditation. I can let my mind go and just enjoy being out, walking, concentrating on the experience as it happens rather than going back and dissecting it later. It’s been really good for me.

So, some space to myself, relaxation and fresh air. I’m really getting old! Ha ha. I’ve even bought walking poles (saving my knees). One step closer to joining the ramblers.

Stayed in Grasmere and climbed Helm Crag:

Before completing a 12 mile ridge walk to Pavey Ark and Harrison Sickle:

and arsing around with ducks:

Went to Grizedale Forest and saw a lot of the natural sculptures scattered throughout. Some favourites:

But I think my absolute favourite over the week was the penultimate day climbing Helvellyn, the third tallest mountain in England. Favourite why? Because to get up to it you have to walk along the awesomely fun and scary Striding Edge Ridge:

It really is narrow and steep, with the edges just dropping away both sides. You have to scramble over the ridge top, carefully picking your way from outcrop to boulder, trying not to get blown over by the wind or trip. It really was fun. From the other side with shitty zoom it looks even better – look at the tiny people:

I had to turn around very carefully to take this:

And now I’m home.

So, yeah. I had fun and really surprised myself. So much so that I’ve decided not to go diving in July but to go back to the Lake District and climb even more mountains. It was that good! If you want to see all the other photos, go to the usual place.

Later.

Holiday was amazing and  I’m feeling so much better for it but right now I need to go to bed so I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.  Probably.

Plus, No Cars Go by Arcade Fire is possibly one of the most uplifting songs I’ve heard in a while.  The album’s really starting to grow on me, just like the first did.  Listen to it.