I’m full of bright ideas, me!
“The only sure way to avoid making mistakes is to have no new ideas”
It was 5am when I woke up suddenly, sat bolt upright, prodded Dave’s cheek and whispered, “I’m going to walk round Iceland!”
“Good,” he grunted. “Let me know when you’re back.”
And that was it.
I suppose it’s quite fitting that the idea came to me in an actual dream, given that I’m a dreamer. A dream born out of a dream, you could say.
I’ve obsessed about being an adventurer from the age of five, when I would sneak out of bed in the early hours, grab my dad’s climbing books off the shelves and pour over black-and-white photographs of rather serious-looking men. By torchlight I’d explore the pages, holding my breath and widening my eyes at the sight of cracked lips framing gaping mouths, icicles hanging off beards, nostrils blocked by frozen snot, shoulders weighed down by ropes, goggles reflecting vast, frozen, inhospitable terrains. I’d imagine what their eyes had seen, what their muscles had felt, what strength they had needed to draw upon to successfully complete their expeditions.
All I wanted was to be like those men and to one day have a photo of my own face peeking out of a huge expedition jacket with a blizzard screaming all around.
All I needed was to train myself to be hardcore. And to grow a beard.
Sadly, I haven’t managed to train myself to be at all hardcore, which is severely disappointing. Less disappointing is that I’ve not yet managed to grow a beard (though there are signs of that happening as I slide down the wrong side of middle age).
In all seriousness, though, I’m lazy, have no stamina, lack self-belief and have appalling willpower at the best of times.
Hardly the stuff adventurers are made of.
What I do have, though, is tenacity. Perhaps that’s all I need for now …