Posts tagged ‘adventure’

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December 29, 2012

My 2012: the year in review

It’s been a while since I wrote a post. My blogging timetable has gone completely out of the window and I barely know what day of the week it is. I blame that period in between Christmas and New Year – perfectly named ‘The Lull’ by a Twitter friend of mine. I don’t enjoy The Lull, I find these days to be an utterly frustrating combination of post-Christmas comedown and impatiently waiting for the new year to begin. Anyway, enough of my whining. I hope that those of you who celebrated Christmas had a lovely time. I’ll probably be starting the new year with a carefully-scheduled post about plans and resolutions and all my usual self-challenging kind of behaviour, but for today, I thought I’d look back at 2012.

It’s been an interesting year, one that I was really looking forward to, and I can’t quite believe it’s over bar the New Year’s Eve rendition of Auld Lang’s Syne. I suspect that most British reviews of the year will talk about the London Olympics, although I think that Bradley Wiggins winning the Tour De France was my own favourite sporting event of the year, and I’m utterly thrilled that Leeds will host the Grand Depart of the Tour in 2014.

My review will be a bit more self-centred than everyone else’s because I’m going to have a look at my own personal highlights of the year.

Luckily, it’s easy for me to look back on these, because this blog is a good record of what I’ve done. It’s amazing to look back and think that I did all these things this year. The trip to Rome in the spring was a wonderful highlight. It’s an incredible city and I’m glad to have visited. It didn’t quite capture my heart the way that Paris has though, so I suspect that I’ll be back in Paris before I return to Rome, but the hotel we stayed in was a unique experience, and one I’ll always remember.

Other highlights included my kayaking trip, despite the near-death experience of falling into freezing water twice. Ok, that’s a touch over-dramatic, I know. Anyway, it’s not been enough to put me off wanting to have another go if I get the chance, even though I have a feeling that I’m never going to be great at watersports. I’m planning to go surfing in 2013, which feels even more ridiculous than kayaking as far as the potential for doing myself some damage is concerned. What the hell, you only live once, right?

Earlier in the year I wrote a post about why Twitter has changed my life, and that remains as true as ever. Over the past year, I’ve met some people through Twitter who have become incredibly important to me in a very short space of time. They know who they are. The ever-increasing number of people I count as friends from Twitter is a wonderful thing. Basically, if we’ve ever had some kind of beverage together, then you’re on my list! This has only happened in 2012, and yet in many cases, it feels like I’ve known people far longer, particularly the ones who are responsible for the dramatic increase in my coffee consumption because of our regular lunchtime meet-ups.

As far as this blog is concerned, the absolute highlight has to be my commendation from the Blog North Awards, which simultaneously reduced me to tears and boosted my confidence in what I write so very much. It was completely unexpected and I will always be grateful for being nominated.

Of course, some things didn’t go quite according to plan. I didn’t manage to do 35 new things in my 35th year, which ended in June. Partly because, as always, I forget that I don’t have endless amounts of spare time and bags of cash to do things with. Not sure I’ll ever really learn that lesson though. I do regret that I didn’t manage to do Cycletta again on my new Pashley, but I might have a go at riding it next year. The other thing I regret is that I’m very, very unlikely to complete my Goodreads Challenge to read 52 books in the year. I’m still about ten books away from completing it, with only days of the year left. Having decided to read children’s books in order to complete it, I’ve found myself reading Michael Chabon’s ‘The Mysteries of Pittsburgh’ instead. A good book, but not a particularly quick read. Still, I have learnt that quality is more important to me when it comes to my choice of reading than quantity, so it’s not been a complete failure of an exercise.

The things I did complete during my challenge were all good in their own ways – from pop-up tea-rooms to drumming lessons – and I loved doing my challenge. After that finished, I’ve managed to do most of the things I wanted to get done in the latter half of this year, which has mostly revolved around my allotment and setting up Sage and Thrift with the most important person I’ve met in a long time, the wonderful and remarkable Josephine Borg.

So, a good year. As I’d hoped. They do seem to get faster and faster though, which is a little terrifying. Once it gets to this point in December, I never really want to bother with New Year’s Eve. I want to tidy up the Christmas decorations and get cracking with the next year. I know, I shouldn’t wish my own life away  but there is lots to look forward to in 2013 and I’m impatient for it to arrive…

Posted in 35:35 Challenge, Barbara Loves..., Books, Cycling, Running and Exercise, Home, Margot Loves..., Sage & Thrift, Scanner, Travel | 2 Comments »

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October 22, 2012

Goodrington Sands, Devon.

In my last post, I said that I would attempt to make a doll’s dress in a week and then post my results up here. Those of you who read this blog regularly might have noticed that I’ve not posted for over a week now. That’s because during the week in which I was going to sew a dress, I actually went to Devon. Which I knew I was going to be doing when I wrote the post. Sometimes I baffle even myself with my idiocy.

So, the dress is half made – but it is in progress which is still something worthy of a celebration and the content of a post for later. Today I wanted to talk briefly about my trip to Devon and in particular about Goodrington Sands.

Goodrington Sands is a stretch of beach in Paignton, and it has the richest rock pools I’ve ever come across. We regularly go rock pooling with the kids in the summer, searching for crabs, little anemones and other sea life in the still pools of water left behind when the tides are low. In Robin Hoods Bay, we’ve had some success at finding crabs and limpets, but nothing much beyond that. But at Goodrington Sands, I saw so much more. Starfish, anemones, hermit crabs, blennies and sea urchins to name but a few. We even saw an anemone on a hermit crab shell, in a real life version of Julia Donaldson’s beloved children’s book ‘Sharing A Shell’ which was a brilliant moment for me. I know the words to that book off by heart, because of the number of times I’ve read it! The Seashore Centre, right on the edge of the sands, and run by the Torbay Coast and Countryside Trust, was a great place to learn a bit more about the things we’d seen.

Starfish

 

The whole of the Torbay area is the English Riviera Global Geopark, which was designated to protect the geological important of the area, but also to promote responsible geo-tourism. Even we were able to find fossils just in the afternoon we were wandering on the beach having a quick look for them. On a sunny October afternoon, with the waves crashing into the shore, it felt pretty much a perfect place to be and if you’re interested in marine biology, geology or sustainable tourism, it’s definitely worth spending some time there. I travelled by train, and the Brunel designed train line runs right by the coast. On my way there,  after about five hours’ of travel and just when I was ready to fall asleep, I was greeted with the beautiful sight of the sunshine glinting off the sea. Wonderful…

 

The view through my train window.

 

Obviously, please be responsible when you’re out rockpooling – be careful on slippery rocks and seaweed, and make sure you don’t take any sea creatures away. Don’t keep them out of water and always carefully return them to their habitat.

Posted in Barbara Loves..., Ethical and Environmental, Home, Margot Loves..., Travel | 4 Comments »

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May 4, 2012

Kayaking on Coniston Water

It’s been a while since I’ve done anything physical for my 35:35 Challenge and I’ve really missed it. Thankfully, my friends are fabulous, and so last Wednesday, I tried my hand at kayaking on Coniston Water in the Lake District.

My lovely friend Hillary has already given me loads of support and last year, gave me a drumming lesson. Honestly, she drums, she kayaks, she’s the co-conspirator on Eating Adventures (which involves taking a bunch of work friends to a different foodie place in Leeds each month) and she makes the best flapjacks I’ve ever eaten.  She’s a total inspiration and I am very glad that she’s my friend. If you’re not following her on Twitter, you should be (@hilltux). Anyway, we loaded up her car with her two sea kayaks and set off for the Lake District early last Wednesday morning, with the skies above already looking a bit grey and forbidding.

                                                                                          Kayaks and drums. Pretty cool.

Once we got there, we got the kayaks ready and then dressed ourselves for the occasion. I was happy to learn how to get the kayak ready – I really enjoy the feeling of being capable and learning something practical and it’s been a while since I’ve had that opportunity.

                                                                                          I look good, no?

Despite spending every childhood summer in Cowes on the Isle of Wight,  I’ve never done any kind of watersport at all, so it was with a palpable sense of trepidation that I approached the water. With help, I clambered somewhat inelegantly into the small space inside the kayak and pushed off into the water with Hillary in her kayak close behind. By this point, those grey clouds had become darker and the wind was starting to increase. This hadn’t stopped a school party from getting into rowing boats though, so I thought I was safe enough.

There are no photos of me in the kayak, so you ‘re just going to have to take my word for it that I was there! Thankfully, my phone wouldn’t fit into the pocket in my jacket – for a brief moment I contemplated it, which just shows you how attached I am to the damn thing.

Although the sea kayak is bigger than the one I saw later on my weekend visit to Cambridge (which will be the subject for another post) to me it felt tiny and a little claustrophobic. The waves on the water, created by the wind, made me feel as though I was going to instantly capsize and I used my foot rests to brace myself more than I think was really necessary. I’ve been reading a book called ‘A Boat in Our Baggage’, by Maria Coffey to be inspired beforehand and it’s amazing to think that two people kayaked around the world in something little bigger than the kayak I was sat in.

We set off, with Hillary shouting instruction to help me sort out my paddling skills. You have to put the paddle in the water so that it glides, rather than letting it get too deep into the water. It took me a while to work it out.  Unfortunately, we were increasingly being hampered by the wind which was trying to dictate the direction we travelled in and the waves that wind was creating.

We made our way to the other side of the lake, realising that in the difficult weather conditions we were unlikely to do anything intrepid like cross the whole lake and I started to feel more comfortable in the kayak. Heading into the waves, instead of meeting them side on made me feel more in control and less likely to capsize.

Until I capsized.

I cannot begin to tell you what happened. One second I was sitting upright in the water and the next, with a brief ‘ooh’, I was under the water. Thankfully, everything happened as it was supposed to, and it wasn’t long before I was on the surface of the water gasping at the cold and the shock. A good job that phone wasn’t in my pocket, eh? I managed, with Hillary’s help, to swim to the shore, where we looked at our choices. I could either walk around the edge of the lake to meet Hillary at the car-park, wait where I was for her to paddle back and then drive round to meet me, or get back in the kayak and paddle back myself. It was freeing cold and so I picked the final option. After all, the movement of paddling would keep me warmer and the chance of me falling in again felt pretty slim. I got back in, after tipping out the water, and we set off. I felt fine really. To be honest, facing the thing that I’d been scared of, I thought that the worst had happened.

Then I capsized again…

Ok, by this time I’d had enough. Again, I came up from under the kayak easily enough, and again I swam to the shore. The edge of the water was really shallow but I was tired and cold, slipping all over the rocks and being a bit feeble. I sat on the rocks and we decided on plan B. Hillary set off in her kayak and I watched, shivering, as she slowly made her way across the water, battling the wind and the waves, to the other edge of the lake and the carpark.

It felt like forever before she came back, wielding a giant blanket to wrap me in. We made our way back to her car and I stripped in the carpark, covered in the aforementioned blanket, and got into some dry clothing. Then, sitting in the front seat of the car, I realised I couldn’t feel my feet. Really couldn’t feel them. I mentioned to Hillary that my feet looked like the toe-tagged corpse in every TV crime drama I’ve ever seen. She peered over and then said ‘it’s amazing how quickly the body starts to shut down, isn’t it?’

Erm…not the body. My body! My feet were dead. Thankfully, after quite a long and painful blasting with the in-car heaters, they slowly came back to life.

Even though this was a real challenge, I’d do it again. In better, calmer weather conditions, I can imagine it being a really peaceful way to spend time on the water and I was getting used to the feeling of  losing the bottom half of my body as I knew it, and gaining a bottom half that was a kayak. That might not make sense, but it’s how it feels.

I should also point out before I finish this post, as I came up from the water the first time I fell in, Hillary was readying herself to jump in and rescue me. Like I say, I’m very grateful to have her as my friend…

Posted in 35:35 Challenge, Home, Learning | 3 Comments »

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April 25, 2012

Rome: Art, tourism and really seeing what you’re looking at…

Rome is a city overrun with riches. So much so, that it is tempting as a visitor to arrive with a giant list of things to see and tick off a list. To ‘do’ the city. I hate that phrase. ‘Doing’ a place, as though it can be summarised in a few frantic days of dashing around, never to be re-visited. We’re all a bit guilty of it, and I certainly arrived in Rome armed with a list of things I wanted to see in my time there.

However, I also wanted to see and experience the rest of the city. Which meant taking time to slow down and really watch it unfold before me, instead of charging from one ‘must-see’ place to another, without appreciating those little things that make a place really interesting. The wisteria on the honey-coloured houses. The coffee bars where local folk lined up for their espresso, with me alongside, using one of my three sentences of Italian to order my jolt of caffeine. The little gelato stores, with a rainbow of flavour combinations that were open until 1am. These things were as exciting to me as the Renaissance masterpieces, and given that religious art often leaves me cold, sometimes they were more exciting.

See how exhausted I look after the Vatican museum and  St Peter’s Basilica…

With all the new technologies available to us, not only are people tempted into rushing from place to place on their trip, but often, they are looking at everything through the artificial eye of a camera lens. I distinctly remember being in New York in September of 2006 and being on a boat that went out past the Statue of Liberty. Surrounded by other tourists, I sat towards the centre of the boat in my waterproof as we approached the (smaller than I was expecting, but nonetheless iconic) statue. Watching the other people around me, I realised that no-one was really looking at it. Everyone had some kind of camera pointed at it. They all took a few shots (or filmed a piece of video) and then turned away. No-one had really seen the statue with their own eyes!

Are we so used to seeing images of the world that upon being presented with the real thing, it no longer holds any true fascination? I mean, if people are not willing to slow down and really see the thing that they’ve come all this way to see, what is the point in travelling to see it in the first place? Purely to capture an image to share on Facebook? It doesn’t seem like a very happy way to experience things to me.

In Rome, there is a very famous statue, Pietà, by Michelangelo, of Jesus being held by Mary. The original is in St Peter’s Basilica, covered by glass. There is also an authorised copy in the Vatican Museum, which whilst being as beautiful, was made in the Twentieth Century. During my visit, I wandered over to the copy and read the inscription below, as did a few other people. We then realised we were being tutted at, by someone who came up to the sculpture in a huge rush, took a photo and then moved on. Without reading the inscription. During my visit, I noticed the same person doing that same thing all the way through the Museum. Going up to an exhibit, taking a photo and then moving on, without taking any time to really see what they were photographing. Now, it may not matter. The copy of the sculpture is as beautiful as the original, and not behind glass. They say it would take twelve years to get around the Vatican museums if you looked at each exhibit for a minute, and perhaps she was just keen to get around as fast as possible. However, I do wonder how well she will recall the things she photographed; if she even realised she hadn’t photographed the original piece of sculpture; what answers she might give if asked questions about the artworks. Overall, how fond her memories about that particular trip will be.

I took very few photos. Like I said, religious art leaves me a bit cold and the riches of the Vatican City were sometimes a bit overwhelming, even when I put to one side any feelings I might have about the wealth of the Church. I need to really love a painting or artwork before taking a photo of it, rather than merely capturing it to ‘tick a box’ in my travel history. I did take a photo of one painting I really and truly loved in Rome, but that will be the subject of another of my Rome posts…

Posted in Design and Culture, Home, Margot Loves..., Travel | 3 Comments »

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April 20, 2012

Rome: Moses Fountain Hotel review.

We stayed in a fountain in Rome. Not in the watery bit, obviously, but in the Moses Fountain Hotel. It’s a monument with a fountain in it, built in 1585-1587 (under the guidance of Pope Sixtus the Fifth) as the terminus of the new Felix Aqueduct (Acquedotto Felice)  to lengthen and older III Century Roman aqueduct.

The rooms are built into the top areas, originally the fountain keeper’s workshop and apartment. The aqueduct still works and the noise is a dim, comforting hum in the evening. The main Fountain is divided into three arches, with a sculpture placed in each. In the central space is a sculpture of Moses by Leonardo Sormani and Prospero Antichi, showing to his people the water that miraculously sprang out from the rocks in Sinai desert during the Exodus.

It’s  the first time I’ve ever stayed in a building that other tourists were taking photographs of! Can you see the little balcony on the left? That’s one of the rooms! Ours was on the other side…

Located quite close to Piazza Barberini, and a short walk from the Trevi Fountain and Spanish Steps, the hotel is in a district that, although busy during the day, especially because of its proximity to several Government buildings, is pretty quiet at night. Perfect for us, as we were after rest as much as sight-seeing. I love waking up in a city when I’m on holiday there, and so the morning sounds of people going about their everyday business in the morning were a great pleasure to me after a long, quiet night of sleep in a gorgeously comfortable king sized bed.

Our room, named the Velvet room, was beautiful. Lots of space, contemporary, comfortable fixtures and fittings, and that giant bed made for equally giant smiles of happiness the minute we set foot into it. Add to that the Etro toiletries, complementary mini-bar, dressing gowns, Nespresso machine and flat screen tv and we were in hotel heaven.

With only six rooms, and no standard concierge or reception desk, the Moses Fountain is a little like staying in the home of a great friend. After you’re initially met and shown around by the lovely staff, you’re given a key to the main door and left to your own devices. I appreciate that this not be the best option for everyone, but for us it was great. We don’t need lots of concierge services anyway and are happy to to let ourselves in and out.  It’s possibly a good point to note that there is no lift, so you need to be happy and fit enough to climb a good few stairs.

Breakfast was served on a tray in our room each morning. We had giant bowls of cafe latte, freshly squeezed juice, a variety of different breads and salads. Each day there was also as a little bag containing various biscuits and crackers to take away with us for elevenses, should we need them!

I loved our stay at Moses Fountain. I’d recommend it to anyone who wants a spot of quiet luxury amid a busy city, who doesn’t mind not having some of the ‘traditional’ hotel services and who enjoys having a unique experience when they travel!

Posted in Home, Luxury, Margot Loves..., Travel | 3 Comments »

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April 16, 2012

Rome: Instagram images

I’ve got a few Rome-based posts lined up but first I thought I’d share some of my photos with you. As I don’t have a big DSLR, I’ve used my trusty iPhone to take a few Instagram pictures. I hope they’ll give you a nice overview of my trip – see how many of the places you recognise!

 

Posted in 35:35 Challenge, Barbara Loves..., Home, Margot Loves..., Travel | 8 Comments »

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February 8, 2012

Theme Tune.

I went to the doctors today and during the course of our discussion she referred to me as ‘an older woman’. This young and impossibly glamorous GP made me feel dreadful, and although I laughed it off at the time, on my walk home, I was close to tears. I know I’m coming across as a bit of a drama queen but it was genuinely a shock. I feel as though I’m only just getting going with my life and here I was being written off as ‘older’.

So, I stuck my Ipod on, turned on shuffle, and miracle of miracles, my theme tune came on.

That’s right. I have a theme tune. It’s not my favourite song ever made – I’m not sure that I have a favourite. It is, however, the song that I choose when I want to pull myself together and get myself off the sofa. It’s the one that will be on the soundtrack of  the film of my life story, in which I will be played by Drew Barrymore. Or Kate Winslet. I need to decide before filming begins… I recommend a theme tune. It never fails to get me in a better frame of mind, more upbeat and positive. Helpful when people call me ‘older’, when I need to get off the sofa and into the gym, when I want to get working on one of my challenges.

The one  thing that her comment did do is to remind me of the swiftness of time. I am thirty-five. I will be thirty-six in June and I’m still only half way through my 35:35 Challenge. At this point I am fairly sure that I won’t make it to 35 Challenges by June. I have to say that I’m not terribly bothered by this. The point of the challenge was to get me out of a rut. It’s already done this.

Yesterday I signed up to Joel Runyon’s Impossible League. I love that it sounds like a group of super heroes. I’ve already changed my Bucket List to ‘A List of Impossible Things’ – which, unlike a static Bucket List, is a dynamic, ever-changing list of things, some of which are linked together. A good example of this might be a running goal, which starts at 5K and then ultimately might result in a marathon. As there is no limit on the variety of things that can be added to this list, it’s great for a scanner. I might even add my List of Impossible Things here, so that you can all see my progress and make sure I keep on track. I’m excited about joining this community, and challenging myself to do the Impossible. I will be the super hero in my own life story. Even if I’m ‘older’!

And my theme tune? “The Time is Now’ by Moloko…

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September 12, 2011

Yorkshire 3 Peaks Challenge for Bliss

As part of my 35:35 Challenge and to raise some money for a special charity I climbed the Yorkshire 3 Peaks this weekend, with my lovely husband and my sister-and-brother in law. 26 miles of walking and climbing, with a total ascent of 5000m, this isn’t a challenge to be taken as lightly as I might have been taking it…

We arrived at Horton-in Ribblesdale in the early hours of Saturday morning, to be met by a full car park and lots of other walkers. Seeing everyone there, mostly supporting charities of their own, was very heart-warming, although did rather spoil any kind of feeling of being intrepid – it felt more like the walking equivalent of a motorway in rush hour. The light-hearted jolliness and chattering soon wore off, as we all set off to the first peak – Pen-Y-Ghent. Quite a shock to the system, as you start climbing as soon as you leave the village, this was the first point at which I started to question the wisdom of my decision! It felt like one minute I was still in bed and the next I was scrambling halfway up a giant hill. It progressed from a gentle ascent to a true scramble, holding onto the rock as you climbed. No wonder I was feeling somewhat  nauseous at that point. I was also really hot, as although the weather itself was still cool, climbing was making me warm in my thick waterproofs. Hence the red face in this photo, at the top of the first peak.

Pen-Y-Ghent peak

After the descent from Pen-Y-Ghent comes a long walk to the next peak, Whernside. It’s often quite boggy there, and so we walked along a stretch of the Pennine Way to avoid the worst of the bog! Approaching Whernside, we could see a long line of tiny ant-like people walking along the path and up to the ridge. The climb to the top of Whernside seemed to take forever as you have to walk around to the right before ascending, and so we could see the peak a lot sooner than we actually reached it. There was still quite a bit of traffic, although by this point people were stopping for rest breaks and in some cases stopping entirely. In truth, it was a good job that I was doing this challenge for Bliss, as it gave me a reason to keep going when otherwise I might have been quicker to give up. That, and the experience of completing the Lyke Wake Walk (42 miles across the North York Moors, taking 17 hours) the previous year,  which definitely brought to life Churchill’s famous quote ‘If you’re going through Hell, keep going’…

Finally we reached the summit of Whernside.

At the peak of Whernside

A shorter descent from Whernside, and after a nice break for a drink, we set off for Ingleborough, which was looming dark and cloud-covered in the distance like some semblance of Mount Doom, despite the fact that where we had actually stopped was lovely and sunny! Hence my ill-fated decision to leave my waterproof coat off…

We started off walking towards Ingleborough National Nature Reserve towards the peak of Ingleborough, but as we walked along, I could see no sign of a recognisable path to the top. I could see a steep waterfall running down the side of the hill in front of me, and as we got closer, still at this point in sunshine, I realised that the steep waterfall was in fact, the path. With a true waterfall next to it, the steps of the climb were running with brown water from the top. The crowds of people at the start had really thinned out to a hardy few who were going to finish this challenge, no matter what.

We reached the bottom of the real climbing part, and David put on his waterproof. Still warm and, after putting on and taking off my thick coat one too many times, I decided to leave it off for the climb to the top. Bad decision. Very bad decision. We started climbing, very slowly, pausing either for breath or for the person in front of us and using the rock to hang onto. Then it started to rain. Obviously, I didn’t have the chance to put my coat on as there was no way I was going to mess about taking my rucksack off halfway up the sheer, slippery rock to try to get my coat out. By the time we were close to the summit, we were walking up what had rapidly become a true waterfall of rain water. I was soaked to the skin, and the wind was driving the rain into my face. We finally got to the top and then, seeking the Trig point, had to walk along the top, barely able to see, and then stop for a photo (“let’s get the formalities over with’)  before I finally got to put my coat on!

Ingleborough peak

Leaving Ingleborough with a huge sigh of relief that all three peaks had been reached, we then had quite a long walk back to the official clocking in cafe – where we needed to be back within 12 hours to qualify for 3 Peaks of Yorkshire Club membership – which I was determined not to miss out on, having done so much to get to that point.

We walked on, until we finally reached the end, clocked out with only 15 minutes to spare ( but a very important 15 minutes!) and we’d done it! A quick clothing change for our final photo, then off to get some very well deserved chips and a cup of tea.

Still smiling at the end!

I have to admit, I cried tears of relief and exhaustion at the end. Once I was sitting in the car, wearing a nice dry outfit, and looking forward to my cup of tea, I was struck by how much of a true challenge this had been for me, as someone who has to fit in exercise alongside a full time job and two small children. I’m glad that I’ve done it, and very glad that I’ve raised some money for a well deserving charity, but for now, I am hanging up my walking boots!

Posted in 35:35 Challenge, Barbara Loves..., Home, Walking | 6 Comments »

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August 4, 2011

One, two, three, four…

The 35:35 Challenge is about to step up a gear, as a couple of bigger challenges are looming ever closer, Yorkshire 3 Peaks in September and then Cycletta in October.

For now, I am undertaking what can only loosely be called “training” for both of those, and trying to fit in a few smaller challenges along the way. It has recently dawned on me that in order to meet my self-imposed deadline I need to be doing about one a fortnight, which is not easy with a full time job and two small children!  Luckily, I have lots of support from my family which enables me to find a bit of free time, and some talented friends who are happy to help me try some new things. Or, they just enjoy watching me make a fool of myself… I’ll leave you to be the judge of that.

One of the things I have come to realise is that we all carry around beliefs with us that we consider to be the truths about who we are and what we can do. Sometimes this comes from the labels we were given during childhood – we were the sporty child or the academic one. Sometimes they are labels that we tell ourselves; that we can’t dance, or draw, run, play an instrument, cook. Whatever. What we seem to believe is that we should have some innate ability to do these things. I know that there are a few geniuses out there who are truly gifted. I remember my Granddad used to be able to pick up any instrument and get a decent tune out of it, whether he’d played it before or not. On a somewhat grander scale, there are sports people, musicians, scientists and writers who seem to be effortlessly brilliant. But for the rest of us mere mortals, one fact remains true. The reason we cannot do something is not because we are useless, it is because we have never been taught how. Even the best of us get better with tuition. The more you practice, the luckier you get. So what if, instead of saying ‘I can’t do that’ and believing it to be the full stop to the discussion, we ask to be taught how?

This is the premise behind much of what my challenge is about, and it has led to the first rumblings of a plan. I do love a plan. How many of us have wanted to try something but not known where to start? Or have been too frightened of making a fool of ourselves? Or thought that it was too late, that time had passed us by? What if you could try something out, just dip your toe in, to see how you get on, in a positive, supportive environment, surrounded by people just like you? Would you try then? Let me know.

In this spirit, my latest challenge has been to play the drums. Well, count to four, whilst attempting to keep some kind of rhythm, anyway. It is at this point I must thank my lovely friend Hillary who not only attempted to teach me this, but didn’t laugh at my attempts and provided sustenance in the form of cake. See, this is what I mean about a supportive environment…

Anyway, we started with a quick tour of the drum kit – an electric one in this case, much easier if you have neighbours, plus they are somewhat smaller. Then Hillary went on to try and teach me to basically do three things at once, which you’d think I’d be used to, what with being a mother, but it’s pretty tricky.

We spent the best part of half a day just playing around, me being utterly terrible and Hillary putting up with me with lots of good humour and it was GREAT. I left with the buzzy feeling like the one I’d had at the Northern Ballet which set me off on this challenge in the first place. We finished with an attempt at a bit of White Stripes (Meg, you have nothing to fear…) and I now have such a desire to try again that I was actually in a music store yesterday pricing up drumkits. Which would probably have to live on the allotment, so for now, I am searching for music teachers.

Here's the proof!

I do have a short film, showing how dreadful I was, and how much it didn’t matter, but I’ll save it for a rainy day…

Posted in 35:35 Challenge, Barbara Loves..., Home | 1 Comment »

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