kesh-argh

Last July I decided to *finally* go to Morocco. On the day I was due to book my flights I had an email asking me to come out to India, so despite my ravenous guidebook highlighting, I packed up my entire life and well… if you’re reading this you know what happened. Being back in the uk and with holiday allowance burning a hole in my shoes I have decided to get ‘back on it’ in regards to replanning the trip to Morocco that I have been trying to take for nearly 14 years. Yes it’s been that long.

If I’m going, I want to do it properly and as much as I am pining for a beach, which is the norm unless I am actually on one, I am also pining for a mountain. The mountain top on Koh Samui where I spent christmas was invigoratin, life affirming and all that jazz to say the least. I haven’t felt that strong for a while and well, i want to get back up a mountain. This time instead of taking a questonable coack/ suspension-less bus or open back pick-up, I want to get my Cheryl on and walk it. Or well um climb it.

This isn’t the first time this bright idea has come to me. Oh no. I wrote about it here and so as not to just repeat myself, I just re-read this piece and realised it’s quite likely that I was. In essence that tour, well i’m back looking at it. And this time instead of examining it with my hippy ‘Oooh I want to see the stars from a mountain top’ mind. I read the small print. You know the bit where they tell you that you need a ‘four season sleeping bag’ and might suffer from Altitude sickness (especially if you’re on the contraceptive pill or asthmatic) the small print doesn’t even mention the need to bring proper bloody shoes because it’s challenging and assumes I’ll have them. Bitten off more than I can chew? Well, it wont be for another 3 months. I can train.  Can’t I? Primrose HILL, Telegraph HILL that one with Ally Pally on the top… I’m sure they are very similar to the Mount, whatever it’s called all 4000 plus kilometres above sea level…

And if Primrose hill isn’t quite the right training ground, my friend M has joined a hill climbing group (Yes that’s what i’ve become, who needs Fabric and Turnmills when you’ve got The Chilterns and the Yorkshire Moors?) I think I might have to join her. Because otherwise it’s just going to be awkward.

For those of you thinking where has this Hello Kitty loving, book draft writing beach lover gone – still here – it’s a 4 night trip. I’ll have another six days to buy weird and wonderful gems in the Souks and get a suntan. And brace myself not just for the trekking bit. But for the whole tent bit as well. Can’t even go there right now. Life is about challenges and I mean come on, if I can shut up enough for a silent retreat – anything is possible. I’m now off to google mountain climbing training plans and to see if Millets still exists because you know… shoes.

 

(http://www.fitclimb.com/page/6-week-beginner-mountaineering – Adds heart rate monitor to Amazon wishlist)

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