Mortal Peril

It's something you face quite often when on Adventure Training Camp. Or at least you'd like to think so, climbing a cliff, scrambling up a waterfall, hiking up a hill which really should be a mountain, or nearly giving yourself a heart attack going uphill on a mountain bike, half a kilometre behind your sixty year old instructor....

It's these kind of things that make you feel tough, hard as nails, confident and mean- a fighting machine. And then you trip on a rock on the way back down and hurt your ankle and realise your probably not Demi Moore. Still, it's hardly our fault if any of us were disillusioned- we were hallucinating from lack of food. I mean, sorry, but who eats American Cheeseburger flavour crisps?? (Bleh!!)

Actually, then again, maybe the hallucination was from sleep loss- what sane person gets up at 6.15 in the morning to clean an industrial size kitchen?? Why? Just why?

I mean, I'm sure we can all agree that myself and my companions were not at all convinced we'd suddenly gained sixty pounds of muscle because of all the 'perceived risk' and numerous loopholes in the health and safety agreements which were kept well hidden under the great metaphorical carpet in need of hoovering. That would be ridiculous- we were all far too experienced and sensible. Honest.

Really- the camp was pretty cool, and drinking from a waterfall, scaling a rock face and sleeping under the stars sans tent or shower felt wild- and gave me an awesome set of bruises which go well with blues and purples, and make their own statement when I'm wearing white.

Sadly though, the fact that the most painful thing anyone did whilst I was there was me falling down the stairs in my socks sort of took away from the whole extreme element. Also, the proximity of the Co-op and the fact we weren't allowed into the park in case we got mugged did tend to take away from the whole Bruce Willis die hard idea.

But heck, laughing at Independence Day and getting glued to chicken run made us all feel better, so it was alright in the end.

I'd done the camp before, so I was expecting the whole sweat, bruises, rain and mozzie bites. I admit I'd forgotten how hard working in the kitchen was, and I swear now never to pursue a career as a chef, but otherwise, camp was as good as I remembered, if lacking the thrill of being able to go into the park across the road without being mobbed or sworn at. But hey- we got chocolate every day, and we got to see Shrek the four millionth and something, so all was right with the world.

As you can probably assume, this camp was just less impressive now I'm a bit older- but I'm glad to have done it again, to know I can still rise to the challenge, and there's one more thing I'm glad of.

I'm glad of the people I met- because that's the best part. Whether their shy or teddy like, Irish or Jewish, sunburnt or chatty- you can find out more about people when they get out of their everyday situation and onto a hill beneath the pouring rain than you can everywhere else. And do you know my general conclusion? Human beings are a pretty nice bunch. Everyones been through difficulty, everyone has random pet hates and love- and everyone I've met is just a little bit mad.

But all of them secretly, truly, want to be nice- to have friends, to be wanted. And so far, they all deserve it. (although I reserve the right to hold back friendship from creepy guys with cameras who look down my top when I shake their hand.)

Tomorrow I embark on an epic journey across the Atlantic ocean for 10 days. I don't know if I'll come back alive of covered in scars and tattoos like a proper sea dog- to be honest I think neither is likely. But I do know I'll have met 47 new people, and I hope I'll have learnt and liked something about each and every one of them. Maybe they'll even forgive me for sleep talking about Johnny Depp.

Eccentricity...

Is just another brand of insanity, I discovered shortly after arriving in English country paradise. And since this is the case, it means my entire family, on my mother's side at least, is completely and utterly mad. But I doubt you're surprised by that.

It's a bit like being in an incredibly funny, completely random tv show- like, 'This is your life'- jumbled up and put on random on some kind of defunct VCR. One second we're talking about my Aunt's collection of Hong Kong Phooey memorabilia(two pairs of socks, one pair of boxers and a lunchbox) , and the next it's whether or not Atlantis exists (a favourite topic of my Mum's Dad). When his cousins come to stay, we discuss the chances of finding life or beneficial minerals on Mars, in juxtaposition with how useful it is to be able to wear the same outfit you wore to Buckingham Palace to collect your MBE at the wedding you have to go to. And to be honest- lets not even get started on Cryptic crosswords, bonsais or french cooking- trust me, it would twist your mind. In a sort of good but mainly confused and completely and utterly eclectically chaotic way. I'm still lost halfway between bikes in Paris and my Granddad's collection of vinyl cd's.

Honestly- I'm not sure if they'll let me publish my autobiography. I suppose the only way I could retain a claim to my clinical sanity would be a single chapter on my Mum's side.

This is roughly what it would say:

MAD- in a good way

It'll be the shortest block of text I've ever written- because frankly if I started on this brilliant, mental lot- the last Harry Potter book would be light reading.

So here's a question- if my 'growth' is one part nature and one part nurture, why aren't I yet as nuts as they are?

I mean, clearly, I'm a very straightforward, sensible person.................right?

Ok, so I wouldn't fit into any one's idea of ordinary (except maybe Roald Dahl?) but then, would a single person on this planet? The way I see it- anyone who's completely normal is probably very very weird indeed.

Anyway, back to the point. Maybe it's because I've had a bit of a random upbringing. I mean, do 4 deserts, three mountain ranges, most of Asia, some of Europe, several rain-forests, several jungles, a small collection of waterfalls, islands various and a glacier count as a regular setting for a child to grow up? Nah- didn't think so. And then of course you've got the people: the poet laureate, a man with the initals BA, another who's just called H (he's a funny guy- his true name's being kept hidden by an upside down version of MI5, and no, that isn't WIS) and, most excitingly of all (for me at least) the guy in charge of Lindt chocolate!!!!

I wouldn't call 'em your average joe, but as I said, I've never met an 'average joe', if I did, it'd be pretty creepy (see above).

But I am so grateful, so, eternally, hugely grateful for every person I've ever met- for every place I've ever been- every random moment, embarrassing situation, witty flooring comment- and every single, breathtaking, awe inspiring place- from pink salt lakes to monsoon rain on an island outside Borneo.

Recently, I moved, and a few people I know are going through...changes, on varying levels- and for them, and myself I suppose, I just want to say this.

There is no such thing as the past, and no such thing as the future- we live on the very edge of reality every second we're alive, every second we exist. But if we could ever revive the past, and look back at what brought us here, it might be mad- and heartbreaking, or laughable and pretty ordinary. But I can absolutely promise you this- there will be a moment, a second, a smile- hundreds of them, and they'll be beautiful.