Thoughts, ideas, reasons..... why?

The European road trip was on!! The redundancy signed and sealed. A blog rather than just pictures and posts on Facebook has been mentioned many times, and as the idea took shape, it became clear that there was really no excuse not to! I can see rainy days in the van, enjoying the sound on the roof and writing up todays thrilling instalment on the laptop.

So one sunny afternoon after a long morning shift at work, I went for a stroll around Queens Park, just at the end of my road on the south side of Glasgow...

I went through the park and came out by the pond, just by Shimla Pinks restaurant (still never been). As I walked up Pollocksheilds road I passed the bus shelter, and there, on the inside of the shelter was a poster for Scottish Widows stating that 'Lifes better with a plan'. This got me thinking.... Is it really? I remember when I was a young married father and planning my life out to retirement with the add ons of mortgages, insurances, endowments....it's like wishing your life away!

I'm about to set off in my motor home, no real fixed plan as yet other than Spain to begin with. No real solid idea of what’s on the agenda, just go, follow my nose, follow the warm weather, and go visit some of the best crags and climbs in the world, quickly, before I'm too old. Its super scary after all the normality thats gone before me, but also crazily exciting too, liberating. No mortgage. No restrictions.

I know there are negatives, i'll miss my family and my pretty regular if fleating visits home. Miss my Mom. But my over riding feeling is that we only get one shot at this thing we call life and the norm is to tie ourselves up in knots, build little castles called home and never venture further than a package deal 2 weeks a year to some god foresaken Blackpool in the sun somewhere. There are places we should see, people we should meet, a life to live, fear to feel, excitement to experience. Compare these things to Saturday night TV, the celebrity culture, the latest gadgets, the biggest phones. Its all utter shit, worthless life draining crap. The problem is its so easy to get sucked into this accepted normality, and very hard to break free without causing a lot of pain for some. And for that I am sorry. 

I don't know, I guess its wrong to dis what is deemed normal when its only my opinion, the way I feel about it. For many its ok and totally the right thing. Its normal.

But how did it get to this?

Yes the attraction of the amazing crazy Greek is immense (s agapo themi mou xxx) and as I write this, being with her is my final irresistable destination, but even if that should all go 'pete tong', the thought of a road trip is still one I relish. The idea of travelling, meeting people, climbing in wonderful places and all those experiences and routes to come is exciting me beyond belief. There's a little bit of 'now or never' floating around as well. I'll be 52 when I go and the body is beginning to let me know what the mind refuses to accept.

 

Is this the longest mid-life crises ever? Is it a realisation of a dream, an instinct, a gut feeling that this is what I've wanted to do for ages, for ever? Ok so I've always wanted to have a camper van base to climb from and use on days off in the hills throughout the UK but would I have done this, even contemplated something like this without being with Themis? Yes I would. Its something I think I should have done before, and maybe was always destined to do. Age is playing a part, I can feel it having its say. Mortality. We don't get any younger do we!!

While walking through the park I started to write, in my head you understand, writing about the idea of the trip, the lack of plans, but mostly what had lead up to it... How had I got to this epic decision after what was an-oh-so-normal life? Am I doing something crazy, making a life changing decision for a woman, again? Could it be the culmination of meeting someone that makes me feel wonderful, natural and so very much loved, the fact that she lives in a place I love coupled with my hatred of the cold, the drizzly shitey minging clag that is the Scottish weather, most of the time? I hope that there is a small shred of logic in this. I accept its mostly gut instinct and emotion but I sincerely believe I have learned some life lessons this past few years since everything changed, and I know Themi is too good to turn my back on. I do feel blessed to have found her.

Where to start? From the beginning maybe, or perhaps from my move up to Scotland as a 14 year old in 77.... Yeh, but thats not where things really began, and it misses out a whole lot of bible bashing, and could go a long way to explaining the very essence of why I am who I am... But it's a long and boring story really for anyone to wade through, so let me try and put down on paper my thoughts about the relationship between climbing, work, duty, instinct, and what makes me tick. A little in depth self examination, after all, who the hell is gonna read this shite anyway!!!!

The Van.... Joint J150, German ya know.... :)