The Final Countdown

Wow, it's only 61 days till I actually set off. On the 2nd March I'll be boarding that outbound plane to Casablanca.

Feels like things are becoming a little serious now. Have to get my passport renewed, insurance sorted, and make sure I've got all the final bits of kit - sun-block, blister pads, wet- wipes etc. Suddenly wondering if I have enough super-socks.

I do have a pair of wrap-around sunglasses - although I haven't used them much so far, as they require a small sarcophagus to carry them around in, and, frankly, there hasn't been enough space in my handbag.

And of course the training. Suddenly I don't have all the time in the world any more.

So, here's the plan:

1. Continue with the cycling, as now, and walk to work (briskly), if the weather goes against cycling (don't think I'd do snow)
2. Go on at least one long (10 miles min) walk every week - will probably have to join the early bird Ramblers for this
3. Swim one evening per week (groan)

Will that do it?

I'll have to read through the instructions from those nice people at Discover Adventure any day now, and see what they suggest. I did have a little peep a while back, but I frightened myself, and so hid the info for a while.

Time now to be brave.

Wish me luck!

Wonder Woman 2

The other week there was an article on the local news saying that if you do really speedy exercise for 40 seconds a day, that can help prevent diabetes. I mean really speedy, like sprinting, they suggested. And you can do it for 2 lots of 20 seconds.

Well any exercise that is measured in seconds is good to me, so I thought I'd incorporate this into my daily cycle - the uphill bit preferably, as I'd be scared of going too fast downhill in case my brakes gave out.

I casually mentioned this to Rita, my triathlon-eventing friend at work, who seemed to be quite impressed, strangely, and then mentioned it on her Facebook. Then several of her seriously sporty friends 'liked' me/it - which is apparently A Good Thing. So I am now a sporting legend in my lunchtime.

My feeling is that we are not talking about the same thing. I have no idea what Rita and her chums mean, but I meant that I will go as fast as I can, which at times might mean, frankly, not very.

But in the meantime, I am happy to bask in the ill-gotten glory. It's good to be 'liked'.

And as a bonus, not only am I fighting poverty, but I'm now fighting diabetes. Life is good!

Oh dear!

November 3rd! What have I been doing?

Well quite a lot of stuff, but obviously not blogging.

I have the choice between short, sweet and a little more regular, or not at all.

While there may be a compelling case  for not at all, I'll try with the former for a while. Almost time for New Year Resolutions anyway.

So,

Training:
Did a couple of ten-mile walks back in the beginning of balmy November. Nearly killed me, since I'd obviously peaked too early with the training schedule. Nothing since, but plenty of good intentions - might even swim this weekend (aaargh!)
Cycling still going well though.
Have started the surgical spirit treatment to harden up the feet. Apparently hard feet are a good thing. Watch this space.

Fundraising:
Have now made it to about £3,500 (once Gift Aid is included.)
Thank you so much everyone who has supported me - I am so impressed with the generosity of people who are happy to give a hand up to a complete stranger in trouble.
I have quite a few irons still in the fire too, thanks to friends and family:

• a beautiful poetry book to sell online
• designer clothes to sell on e-bay
• vintage clothes to sell in trendy shops
• masses of stuff for a car boot

and a few people have pledged money too. I'm pretty confident of getting to £4,000 now - and maybe could even make it beyond that.

That would be fab, becasue it's been a hard summer in the Sahel, and will be a difficult hungry period next year.

Like Webster's dictionary ...

..I'm Morocco bound.

Joke (for indeed it is one) courtesy of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby from their wonderful film 'Road to Morocco'  check it out!  
Road to Morocco

Decided it was time to start the training in earnest, so I watched it again recently (can't believe it was made in 1942 - it's so fresh), and have added 'Lawrence of Arabia' to my Love Film list.

So, I may have neglected to mention that the bit of the Sahara that I will be trekking in belongs to Morocco. To be exact, we will be flying into Casablanca from London (hmm, another film opportunity), and going, somehow (it's not clear from  the details) to Ouarzaazate (pronounced 'Wazzazat' apparently), which is just below the High Atlas Mountains and on the edge of the desert. I'm guessing there must be Low Atlas Mountains as well, but we'll have nothing to do with them!

Anyway, there is a hotel in Ouarzaazate, which is good news, and the actual starting point of the trek is a five hours drive away in a place called M'Hamid.We drive through the Valley of a thousand Kasbahs' apparently. I can hardly wait!


I don't want to give away too many details at the moment, I have to hold something back to keep the excitement mounting, but suffice it to say that we finish some 6 days later at Foum Zguid, which is in a Saltpan (!) and a short distance from the beginning of the tarmac road, which leads us (after 5 hours) to Marrakech.
5 hours seems to be the standard length for a drive in this place. Coincidence, or suspicious? I can imagine picking up a taxi in Marrakech, and asking 'how long to the hotel?' 'About 5 hours should do it'. Or is it just me?

What to say?

Well I never thought this would happen, but my muse seems to have deserted me. Can't think of anything to say.

I've also ground to a bit of a halt on the dual fund-raising and exercise fronts. Money is still trickling in, for which I am very grateful, but I haven't actually done anything to earn it lately. A bit of research on car boot and vintage clothes sales, but no actual activity. And just riding the bike - which I now love, and can't even remember how I used to travel to work.

Might swim on Sunday morning and hope the hiatus ends (I'm not talking hernia here, just a little pause in energy).

I guess it happens - 12 months is a bit of a long run up.

See you soon with more energy I hope.

I can't believe it's been almost a month since the last post - apologies to anyone out there who's still listening. Still under a bit of deadline pressure here at work, so will take the liberty of using another guest blog (one I prepared earlier!)

I borrowed it from Aminatta Forna, from an interview in the Bristol Review of Books, Spring 2011. I hope they don't mind. It just resonated with me!

‘An essential difference between poverty and wealth is choice. Here we choose what we want to eat. In Sierra Leone there is no choice. In our village, people eat once, not three times, a day. Some days, not at all. On my last visit we had guests – NGO workers come to visit our projects – we wanted to feed them knowing there would be no food available elsewhere. But a python had slipped into the henhouse and devoured all but three of the adult birds. We tried to buy a chicken from someone  in the village, but nobody had one to sell. I am the wealthiest person in the village by far, but it makes no difference. I could not simply step out to the supermarket.

In the end we found a chicken, I can’t remember how, and cooked it with rice – one large dish shared by everyone. The visitors arrived and we were pleased. One was from the UK. When the food was served he said he didn’t eat meat and requested a vegetarian meal. It was his first time in the country and he wasn’t a bad person, he simply took choice for granted.

In one half of the world food is about life. In the other half, food is about lifestyle. In Britain, people are gluten or lactose intolerant, require a vegetarian, vegan or macrobiotic diet. We want coriander in December . Food is about choice. I love those choices as much as the next person, but I am increasingly aware of the costs and the contrast in the way the two worlds live. I wonder  how future generations will think when they look back at us, for such excesses surely cannot continue.’

Aminatta Forna is a broadcaster and novelist, born in Glasgow, and raised between Sierra Leone, her father’s country, and the UK. She is active in the Rogbonko Project, bringing education, agriculture and health to her family’s village. Her latest book, The Memory of Love, has been shortlisted for the Orange Prize 2011.


Thank you Aminatta, and good luck with the Rogbonko Project.

To wick or not to wick ...

...is the question at the moment.

Whether to suffer the slings and arrows of the adventure shops and clean up on all the end of summer bargains in the travelwear department - or just to make do with what I have.

Like everything else, the technology involved in travelling clothes is mind-boggling. I can buy a shirt that is no-crease, lightweight, designed to wick the sweat discretely away from the body (where to? Do I walk around dripping?), deflects the deadly UV rays, and has a collar specially designed not to flop so as to give maximum protection to the back of my neck.

Oh, and is easy to wash and quick-drying.

If I can afford it.

Or I could just buy a few cheap cotton summer tops with long sleeves, which I could presumably wear on subsequent occasions that don't involve extremes of heat and sand.

It's hard isn't it?

It feels important not to build  any unnecessary suffering into a trip that already has quite a potential in that direction, but on the other hand, I don't plan to make a habit of this sort of thing, so it's not that I'm going to need all of these special features in the future.

And I don't have loads of cash to spare.

At the moment my decision is to go with what the locals wear - long-sleeves, loose and cotton as far as I can tell from the pictures.

I did splash out a bit on a new pair of boots, because the feet are important, and I'm not even going to stint on the technological socks (much wicking, cushioning and lack of seams involved) even though they are eye-wateringly expensive. Except for the pair that I got at Aldi, which have all the techno stuff, and are also deodorised. Charmingly they come complete with instructions for use. I didn't keep the label but I do remember the warning  that even though they are deodorised, you do still need to wash them. I'm guessing they're popular with teenage boys - or is that a cruel stereotype?

Oh, and a quick update on training as I haven't been around for a while.

1. Still cycling daily to work - and actually miss it when I don't do as much. (Who'd have thought it?)
2. Did 2 seven and a half mile walks 2 weeks ago with Jonno (Hallo Jonno). Lovely. One in the Cotswolds, and one in the Wye valley.
3. Did my own little miini-triathlon on Holiday Monday: swim in the lovely Portishead outdoor pool (more than 1/4 mile), a walk along the beach, then back home for an hour's serious digging in the allotment.
4. Another walk coming up on Monday - hooray!

Hooray!!

Dates are the answer.

Fresh dates.

I have been pratcising and they do seem to do the trick.

They can only be lovelier when picked fresh in the desert.

Thanks to Fatema and Youssouff for extolling the virtues of fresh dates from home - Iran and Chad respectively.

You've got a friend.

Emergency Rations

O.  M. G!

I've just realised that there is no chocloate in  the desert.

Well, I haven't thoroughly researched it, but I'm guessing that any choclolate consumption at that heat would have to be through a straw. Not really a goer - even for me.

So what's a girl (I know!) to do when the going gets tough?

Help! Advice!

Someone?

A quick fundraising update

Wow - a couple of people have said they are thinking about doing the trek. I could have TREE AID company!

Just in case you're thinking about it and worrying about raising the cash (as I was), I thought I'd bring you up to date.

I sent out about 100 begging emails and letters to family, friends and people who have crossed my path (see blog entry number 1 - I really have been shameless).

So far, 37 peope have donated a staggering total of £2,483.43 (including Gift Aid). Some via Just Giving, and some with cheques. Thank you everyone. And thanks also for your messages of support which have been really lovely to read. I have thanked each one personally, mostly with a phone call - which has also been great fun. 6 more have promised to donate in the future, and others, I'm sure are just getting round to it.

I have also emptied out my piggy bank (VW camper van savings fund, actually) which produced £32.23 in 1p, 2p and 5p coins.

And sold off unwanted stuff in one car boot sale and to a vintage clothes shop (I know it was only a matter of time before they came back into fashion) to the tune of £70.44 and counting.

And made soups and salads for donations at work, raising £208.74 so far. I've had to pause on that for a while, because of time constraints (the garden calls in the summer months, and I have just received the key to my half an allotment - though haven't done anything there yet.) I will take it up again, because I really enjoyed doing it.

Grand total to date: £2,794.83
Plans for the future include more selling stuff (others have offered to donate for another car boot), running a quiz (thanks Helen for the questions), a 'pop up restaurant', and the film show.

And anything else that I or anyone else can think of that is legal and fun.

And I have a corporate sponsor . I know. It's so grown up! Thank you so much Rachel Demuth and friends at the Vegetarian Cookery School. We haven't worked out the details yet, but they have offered to make TREE AID their Charity of the Year. Hooray! And most of my recipes for soups and salads were theirs (not the abortive pea one I hasten to add. And they were tasty. Very tasty - ask anyone at work. (Cookery books and restaurant also fab - and I'm not just saying that - honest.)

I really want to get up to £4,000 now if I can.

By planting and protecting trees at the edge of the desert, we can hope to prevent the awful conditions that we can now see so clearly in Somalia.

So be bold - why not join me. You don't have to be a Grumpy, young people also accepted.

More desert ...

So when Bryony said that she was going to promote the trek as a fundraiser, my first thought was: 'wow, I'd really like to do that'.

My second thought was: 'But I'll never be able to do it'

and my third to 34th thoughts ran something along the lines of:
'I'll never raise that amount of money'
'It'll be killingly hot!'
'I might have done it a few years back, but I'm too old now'
'I can't do it on my own'
and so on.

Luckily, my 35th thought was: 'I've always wanted to go to the desert. I'm 57 ( I was then). If I don't do it now, just when, precisely, do I think I'm going to do it?'

So, now it is then.

The Desert

I don't know why the desert holds such a fascination - I've never been to one, and I don't even really like the heat that much.

But it does.

Listen to this, from the trek organisers:

There is no landscape on earth like the desert! From stony flat expanses scattered with ancient fossils, to perfect wind-blown sand dunes, broken only by the occasional oasis...

The desert and its incredible night skies provide a feeling of space and of solitude, of nature’s power and the transience of mankind, that is both awe-inspiring and humbling. This will be an unforgettable and life changing challenge.

Life reduced to the very basics. Just sun and sand, with no time for the fripperies that can daily consume us.

As I get older, I find simplicity in all things ever more attractive, letting go of all the stuff -  the material and emotional baggage that accumulate over the decades, even across the generations.

As the Desert Fathers said:

'Why do you beat the air and run in vain? Every occupation has a purpose, obviously.

Tell me then, what is the purpose of all the activity of the world? Answer, I challenge you!

It is vanity of vanity: all is vanity.' 
St. John Chrysostom 

and who would want to argue with them?

Wonder Woman

Wow.

Overtook 5 different cyclists on the ride home yesterday. That is serial overtaking.

Feels like I'm developing super powers.

And another thing ... Realised that over the course of the last blog I had covered about 31 miles in all - which coincidentally is I think 50km - i.e. half the distance of the trek. And it wasn't at all bad.

So I'm thinking the distance will be fine - the real challenge must  be doing it on sand - which I can train for, and in the heat - which is a bit more difficult. Should I do all my walking from now on in 5 sweaters?

More training

Been off air for a while, but only because I've been doing lots of hard training. Well, not so hard, I guess.

In fact mostly very pleasant.

Last Saturday did a walk for about 5 miles or so in the beautiful coutryside outside Bath. Again without the benefit of John and his GPS everything is an estimate, but we did finish up by going up Solsbury Hill (625 feet, according to wikipedia, an ancient iron age hill fort, and scene of the 1994 protests against the A46 bypass). Also inspiration for Peter Gabriel's 1977 hit song, which rattled around my brain the entire time - I only wish I knew more than the first line.

Then it was off to Skomer Island, just off the Pembrokeshire coast, on Monday to see puffins - not strictly part of the training, as it has been on my list of things to do before I die for years, but the camping was really by way of training (the guy at the campsite sussed within seconds that we were 'not seasoned campers' - his words), and also taking photos (which I normally can't be bothererd to do, usually because they are so disppointing).

We got the damn thing up - now how do we get in?

 A short walk after the rain on Monday evening, followed by a 4 mile circuit of the island on Tuesday. Those puffins are really, really cute.

Is this cute enough?

Perhaps if I flapped my wings?

  Then a glorious 8 mile-ish trek along part of the Pembrokeshire Coastal Path before setting off home on Wednesday. In the sun!



Wave goodbye to the beautiful Pembrokeshire coast



Summer came on a Wednesday this year in St Brides Bay

 And there's more.

Sunday, a proper serious training walk along the River Wye (part of it), starting and finishing at The Kymin, the National Trust property right at the top of a very big hill just outside Monmouth. At least 12 miles, Martin said. Although we did cheat a little at  the very end, and get Sarah to come in the car to collect us for the last mile and a half. (I wasn't going to mention that, but I feel a duty to my reader/s to be absolutely honest.)

Bridge over the River Wye - Kay gets nostalgic for Nepal

And it was hot! "Stay indoors" advised the tabloids to the elderly, obviously in serious danger death by heatstroke, according to them. I wonder what pleasure they get from terrifying people in this way. It's not sport.

That's probably enough for now.

Back soon.

Phew!

Overtook my first cyclist going home last night.

Uphill.

Makes a pleasant change.

He didn't know we were racing, of course.

Still, pretty impressive, I feel.

The sand walking was good - didn't have the benefit of John and his GPS, but reckon I did about 8 miles in 2 hours in one session - from Boscombe pier to Hengistbury Head and back. It really is much harder work on the sand, and uses a whole bunch of different muscles. I was aching from my little toe up the side of the leg - which is where I usually ache after ice-skating, so you might be right Leila, it could be good exercise after all. And I walked on the soft sand for most of it - not cheating by  walking on the wet sand.

By the way, does anyone know what the gear on the left hand on the bike is for? I have a grip on the right that has the numbers 1-7 on it, which I'm quite happy with, but the one on the left moves, but just has little lines on it - and seems to make no appreciable difference when I do twist it by accident.

Sand walking

I'm off to sunny Bournemouth for a week's holiday now, so I won't be checking in on the computer.

But I will be beach walking as part of the training.

Glo tells me it's the best there is for desert trekking - and she should know, having done a trek in Sinai a couple of years back.

See you in just over a week, fit and tanned, I hope.

So why do it?

Have a look at the before and after pictures at the side, and it becomes clear. Have a closer look, and I'll tell you a little background from Tony, our Programmes Director.

The 'before' picture is a slightly fuzzy shot of what looks like 7 men and one woman sitting on the edge of the hand-dug well. With no tools other than those powered by human muscle, through sand baked as hard as rock, they dug a hole some 2 metres in diameter, probably the same deep, before they reached the water table. In Mali, afternoon temperatures are between 33 - 39° C throughout the year (that's about 90 to 103° F). The few scrubby trees in the barren land suggested that they might find water for all this effort. But in what was the 4^th poorest country in the world at the time, 65% of which was semi-desert and getting worse, there was an incentive. This was in 2003.

They had asked TREE AID and its local partner AMEPPE for help to meet the ongoing needs for wood, initially for building poles and fuel (all cooking is done over wood fires.) Clearly there wasn't much left locally.

TREE AID trained a local nursery man to grow and care for tree seedlings as well as techniques to restore the degraded soil, and provided what was needed. Initially fast growing eucalyptus trees were planted, first around the outside edge of the nursery to provide protection from the dry and dusty Harmattan wind.

By 2004 the nursery began providing seedlings of various trees, for use in community and individual woodlots. Plenty of fast-growing fuelwood trees mean that other, more productive trees can be left to mature. Other seedlings were planted within the nursery, to be planted in the community's compounds and fields. The other clever part was in training people to make fuel-efficient stoves. See more here: http://www.treeaid.org.uk/shop.asp?productID=1166&returnto=shopstart.asp

There were in fact 13 neighbouring villages involved in the whole project – and 8 nurseries set up. More than 100,000 tree seedlings were planted out – 90% of which survived. There were 27 different species, including moringa, baobab, cashew and acacia. I could go on…

The fruits and leaves of these various native trees have provided food, medicines and raw materials to the local communities, and have also protected and replenished the soil for the crops that were planted in their shade. A small oasis has been developed, with its own microclimate and ecosystems. Look at the 'after' picture - you can now barely make out the well in the background (the pink circle shows the cross bit at the top).

And it can only get better - for example, the returning bees now provide for a small honey production business. People locally have been convinced to implement the new soil improvement techniques, and to work together to protect the existing trees from the triple dangers of bush-fire, goats and firewood.
But here's the really good part.

The project may have ended in 2006, and TREE AID moved on to other areas, but the nursery, with its well and its trained nurseryman is still there. An enterprising and hard-working business man, he now produces seedlings for private use and other local government funded projects. And other communities, learning of the success of this project, can come to buy seedlings and learn how to transform their own environments.

They say an area the size of New Zealand is lost to the encroaching Sahara every year. This is not empty space, but home to millions of adaptive and hard-working people. If we want to save them from migrating to the slums around the big cities, we have to plant trees. It really is that simple.

So that's why. 

Now, where was I?

My Mum was recently doing some clearing out and came across the letters I wrote to her from university – not many, and rarely more than 2 sides of A5, often in big writing. I’m not exaggerating when I say that each one began with the words: “Sorry I haven’t written for such a long time, but …”

Take it as read for the blog too.

A quick update:

1. John has updated me on the Devon walk details. The Nose we walked around was Hope's, where there is, by the way, a small herd of Soay sheep - the same sheep that are so happy at Mark and Linda's homestead I visited earlier. They're happy because: a) they're not dead (they were rescued on their way to the slaughterhouse), and b) they have lovely living conditions, which include 5 star winter accommodation and a hill to play on (yes sheep do play - Mark has the video to prove it)
2. The total height gained over the week-end was the equivalent of 1 Snowdon, from sea level to tip, although of course, as a mature walker, I know that in climbing Snowdon you would need to do quite a lot of those metres several times - such being a noticeable drawback of living on a lumpy planet. But then you probably wouldn't actually begin at sea level either.
3. Did my first Car Boot last Saturday. A small affair in the car park of a local posh school - possibly not the most lucrative, but it did begin at 12.00 rather than the somewhat alarming 6.00 (on a Sunday usually) that seems to be the norm. Anyway, got rid of some things, including some vintage pyrosil casseroles (see more here: http://www.helium.com/items/570057-all-about-bakeware?page=2) Quite strange the things that go and those that don't. The first thing to be snapped up was my 40 year old (and much used, so rather smelly) butter dish disguised as a Hovis loaf. Anyway, made a profit on the day of just under £20 and bought a brand new camping stove for only £3 - bargain, or what! And spent a lovely afternoon with Sarah and her kids - we shared a boot to cut down on entry costs.
4. The training includes learning how to camp (hence the need for the stove) - will start at the end of June when I go with Sue to watch puffins on Skomer Island.
5. Cycling still gong well - cycled 5.39 hilly miles each way  to Ashton Court Mansion for a conference on Thursday, and still doing the daily (3x a week really) work thing.
6. Haven't done any more punitive swimming - but might do one after work this week, as I'm getting through quite a few biscuits these days, and don't want to take to many extra pounds to the desert. My friend Gary bought some boots recently that were 3oz lighter per boot than his previous pair - these things obviously matter!
7. Will be back soon because I want to actually write about why  I'm doing all this, but need to get to B&Q, and get food in for Tuesday's salad (moved on from soups for the summer).
8. Oh, and I finally sent out my begging letters - let the money roll in....

More fundraising: Cooking Heaven

Had just the best time on Friday.

Decided that if I’m to raise money by cooking, then I ought to brush up my skills a bit, so signed up for a one-day course on Moroccan and Southern Spanish cooking at the Vegetarian Cookery School in Bath.

What a joy! The course was a combination of demonstration and hand-on do-it-yourself, and we fairly whizzed through a selection of 5 different vegetarian Tapas, including spiced almonds (or to give them their proper name, almendras con sal picante) and patata bravas y alioli (roasted spicy potatoes with hand-made garlic mayonnaise to you and me), moorish semolina bread with broadbean and pumpkin bissara, and potato tortilla. Then on to the main meal of vegetable tagine, cous cous and wonderful salad, followed closely by the most delicious desserts.

From this …

  to this…                                                                       

and this ...                

with puddings still to come!

The 2 chefs (Rachel and Helen) were skilled, funny and generous in the information they imparted – they threw in sessions on such arcane skills as swiftly peeling and crushing garlic cloves, and segmenting oranges – pith-free: not easy, but so satisfying when you get it!

Only 4 other people on the course, so very friendly and cosy.

And of course we got to eat everything we made – well we had to, how else would we know that it was OK? All washed down with fine wine and juice. I foresee a lot of couscous celebrations and tapas feasts in the weeks ahead.

Definitely putting the fun into fundraising.

More Devon Training

30^th April

Breaking in the new walking boots. Bought them a couple of weeks ago – lightweight, good ankle support,  joined-up tongue to keep out the sand – and half price in the sale. Perfect. They’re a size bigger than I normally wear, but the sixes pinched a little, and I’m guessing my feet will swell in the heat. Was reluctant to pack them, because I didn’t want to get them dirty, but good sense prevailed. They were fine, as were the very expensive special socks (over £5 a foot!) that I was also persuaded to buy by the young girl in the shop.

The boots (with a glimpse of sock)

We walked 10 miles altogether from Brixham back to Torquay (including 1½ miles from the ‘cottage’ down to the harbour).  I’m perfecting my new approach to ascents (‘think like a mountain goat’), but overall it wasn’t a particularly strenuous section, climbing 500 metres overall John tells me. Mind you we did climb several of those metres a few times over, I think, with all the ups and downs.

Was very tired at the end though, needing a serious cream tea to revive me (awarded 7/10 in the Grand Cream Tea scheme of things). A similar mileage to what we’ll be doing each day on the trek though, and that will be at 40°C, so plenty more work to do!

When I was visiting the happy sheep in Wales a few weeks ago, we did a few miles in the Brecon Beacons too. Was keen as mustard and fairly raced up the hillsides, so I am noticing a difference in approach, if not necessarily stamina. Can only get better with practice.

1^st May

Sue had to stay at home today, suffering from the results of seriously losing an argument with a railing earlier in the week. Yesterday’s ups and downs were probably a walk too far in the event. John and I walked northwards from Torquay, hugging the coast (including around Somebody or other’s Nose – loved it but can’t remember the actual name), although disappointingly when we came back to the road to make our way back, we were still on the outskirts of the town, the road having taken a bit of a short-cut. Still did 10 miles though in all, as we then walked back to the cottage. Lots of height again – waiting for the details from John. Apparently yesterday’s height figures were the grand total of metres climbed in all, including ones we went down again. Today’s figures are even more impressive, I believe, and the 2 days total gives us the equivalent of a couple of Snowdons. John gets it all from the GPS.

Big flappy OS maps are so yesterday – everyone seems to be stroking their little GPS screens these days. 

A Special Day: 29th April (written then, but posted later due to technical difficulties)

Sorry about yesterday’s rant –got a bit carried away there.

The ‘Grumpy Old’ persona is terribly seductive, and while it may be mildly amusing (and I appreciate only may be), it really is somewhat self-pitying  and defeatist.  Not what you’d call keeping interested, engaged and active, which is the main personal aim of the doing the challenge. So, no more mourning what’s gone, going ,or basically just not what it was, and a bit more rejoicing in what is or might be with a little clarity and effort. 

Time to join the nation in positive thoughts!

More training this week-end – joining Sue & John in Torquay for 2 days of the South West Coastal Path (they’ve done about 493 miles on and off over the last 4 years). Stopped off on the A380 for toasted cheese sandwich and tea, just in time to watch the Happy Royal Couple leave the abbey and process back  to the palace. Seriously impressed with the trees in the abbey!

Arrived early, so stopped off in Maidencombe for a little beach walking, then set a cracking pace exploring  the steep streets of Torquay until we could get into the cottage. Bit of a misnomer – more like House and Gardens made flesh. Went to sleep in the princess bed – appropriate for the Special Day I thought.

The Princess Bed

Cycling City

First - a great big THANK YOU to the family Nicholls for being the first (and very generous) donors on my Just Giving page (and also the only ones so far - don't be shy gentle reader!), and also to Nikki for your helpful exercise tip - great idea, but I think I would struggle to keep up  regular commitment at the moment.

Cycled into work again this morning - another beautiful day. Yes, that's right - the words 'cycle', 'work' and even 'again' in the same sentence.

I am now a confirmed cyclist, having cycled into work on 6 successive occasions in the last 3 weeks, so I think I'm going to stop counting now and accept it as a fact of my new blogging/trekking life.

Mind you, it was a bit of a sticky start. On the first day I was freewheeling happpily down the Gloucester Road in the glorious sunshine, mentally composing the blog entry for the day, when I passed not one but two collisions between cyclists and white vans (no word of a lie) within a hundred yards. Both involving ambulances, sadly. In the first one everyone was standing, but the other involved a stretcher, although the cyclist was conscious at least.

Philip (the boss, and fellow keen cyclist after his mega charity ride last year) said to think of it as 'a warning' rather than 'a sign' - he was right.

So, on a daily basis I now jet the 2.82 miles into work, and puff the 2.82 miles home (uphill is a full lung experience for me) - and actually really enjoy it. I have joined the legions of smug cyclists.

After that first morning I have investigated a few diversions into smaller streets, but essentially, for those who don't know Bristol, my route is a major arterial highway (the A38) into town. For parts of it (we are the nation's first cycling city after all) there are cycle lanes with the picture of a bike so that you know. You do however share the lane with several tones of bus - now there's an incentive to keep those little legs working.

But what really gets me, is that, just when the road narrows dangerously and you need a bit of support, the cycle lane just disappears, without so much as a by your leave. No warning. Just stops. At least they could put a 'You're on your own now kid' a few yards in advance, just so that you're prepared. Then perhaps a jaunty little skull and crossbones, for those who can't read at speed. But nothing. Come on Cycling City -get your act together!

However, I am pleased to be on two wheels - and it is even quicker than the car/walking combo that I used to do - even going home.

Hooray for the fitness campaign!

Back soon

So much to do ... so little time

Really busy at work, and then going off to Wales to visit my friends with the happy sheep, so I thought I'd leave you with a few wise words from the Dalai Lama to chew over, a sort of guest blog, if you will, and will be back with the usual trivia on Monday.

Over to you, your holiness .....

"In the past all of life was based on trees.Their flowers gave us decoration, their fruit gave us nourishment, their leaves and fibres clothed us and provided us with shelter.We took refuge in their branches for protection from wild animals. We used wood for heat and for canes to bear our weight when we grew old, and to make weapons to defend ourselves. We were very close to trees. Today, surrounded by sophisticated machinery and high-performance computers in our ultra-modern offices, it is easy to forget our ties with nature.It is normal to try and improve the quality of our lives through science and technology. But at the same time it is important to know the limitations of such progress and to remain aware of the fact that we still depend on nature. if the environment were to be radically altered, there would be nothing we could do to protect ourselves."

From 'Beyond Dogma - dialogues and discourses' (1996)

The Training: Must have a plan

That's what they say. Must have a proper training plan so that I can be fully fit when I hit the desert. Seems like a good idea - I do want to enjoy the experience after all, but then I work with a whole bunch of hard-core fitness freaks, and my idea of a proper training plan seems to be different from theirs.

For example: I don't believe in getting up a sweat for its own sake. I like a bit of walking, and don't shy away from a flight of stairs. I enjoy cycling (although you may notice I haven't done so much since arriving in Bristol, but have you seen the hills?), love ice-skating (done even less of that, but probably not so useful for desert training), and also gardening (upper body fitness, I beleive). Fit the exercise into everyday life, so that it doesn't become a chore has always been my motto.

But no. Not enough apparently. You have to have a timetable - a commitment to get out there and do stuff several times a week. Come rain or shine. In sickness and in health. Whether you feel like it or not.

So, let's dust the bike off, and cycle to work. That's 2.82 miles. Each way. Uphill all the way home. Not every day, of course - sometimes I have to carry soup, or have commitmants after work, but let's say twice a week. I can do that.

Meant to start today, but I forgot, so that means can't do it now till Wednesday. So, watch this space.

I thought I'd try a few long walks too. First off thought I'd join the Ramblers and go out with them, but they start so ridiculously early - who can get to the centre  of town for 8.30 on a Sunday morning for goodness sake? So met up with some frineds the other weekend and walked 8 miles in the beautiful Woolley Valley just outside of Bath. We met at 1.00, had time for a pleasant lunch, walked, and still got home well before dark, so I don't know why the Rambers have to be so keen. I wore far too many layers for the walk - so it felt a bit like desert practice even though the wind was a bit chilly at times.

I've decided that if I don't walk in a week, I have to go swimming as a punishment. Have been 3 times so far: and did 20 lengths, then 25, then 40 widths (went to the over 50s session - apparently we're not to be trusted down the deep end. It is only £2.30 though, so I might go back.)

And then the garden calls.

So that's my plan. A walk (or a swim) once a week, cycling twice a week, and as much gardening as I can manage. Seems good to me - but I suspect it won't pass muster with the fitness police. Fingers crossed.

The Fundraising: Crisis in the kitchen

A bit late, I know, but it's taken me a while to get a handle on the technicalities of the blogosphere.

Had a bit of a problem with the soup thing this week. The first 2  were fine - butternut squash, parsnip and ginger (Rachel Demuth recipe), and roast tomato and garlic (Ursula Ferrugina), and all very well received, raising about £40 in total.

This week was to be Venetian pea soup - a take on a recipe from a book (I won't say whose - seems unfair to brand them with my disaster).

So, heated up the onion, stock, peas and the rice (seemed like a lot, but according to my reading of the recipe, not actually enough), mashed  it all up with the blending stick (didn't say that in the recipe either, but I can't cope with soup that has lumps), and went upstairs to do battle with a bit of internet shopping (another story, but all in all it wasn't a good night).

A mere 1 hour later, and am faced with 5 litres of a greenish brown glutinous substance that bears more resemblance to the stuff Gerry Builder uses to fill the gaps between the window and the wall than soup.

What to do? Have used up all my onions and rice, so can't start again. Fall on the floor weeping seems an attractive option, but I have a responsibility to my customers. Still have a sackful of peas in the fridge, so spoon out a small amount  of the greenish (tasteless) goo, add water and peas, and try again. A few branches of mint (not too much - don't want it to taste of toothpaste) and we have something  which seems edible and the right colour.

We also have 3 2-litre ice cream tubs of glutinous goo in the freezer (I am congenitally incapable of throwing food - any food - away) waiting for inspiration - I was thinking it could be a basis for Cornish pasty innards (sorry Cornwall), and colleagues have suggested the goo itself could be made into a gluten free quiche base. Every cloud ...

Anyway - soup very well received the next day (I didn't give the full details until late afternoon), and raised £28.

I had originally chosen soup as a fundraiser rather than cakes because you can't go wrong with soup. Trust me dear  reader, you so can.

The beginning ... the begging letter

I thought it was time for another adventure, so in March 2012 I am going to trek across 100km of the Sahara desert. I’m doing it to raise money for charity – and to strike a blow for grumpy old women – it’s not only young folk who can do this kind of thing.

But I will need help. I need to raise a minimum of £2,600, quite a considerable sum, which is why I am starting now.

Why?

I am doing it for TREE AID, the charity that I work for. I believe whole-heartedly in the work we do, enabling some of the poorest people in Africa to work their way out of poverty, and build a future for themselves and their families.

Together we plant and protect trees for food, medicines and the raw materials for products they can sell at local markets. Because of this, the children are healthier, and they can then pay to go to school. At the same time, the trees provide shelter and restore the land so that crops grow better, and the growing desert is held at bay. Sort of a ‘buy one get one free’ approach.

If you want to know more, ask me, or visit our website: www.treeaid.org.uk.

Or watch our short film: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aHruNc2EI10

What I’m doing

To raise funds I’m making ‘soup of the week’, which I sell throughout our office building at a profit. I’m turning my house into a ‘pop-up restaurant’ – inviting friends and colleagues to book a table for a small group to a meal cooked and served by me for a donation. I will be selling off my unwanted treasures at a car boot sale, and organising an intimate film night in my sitting room (no, not that kind of film, it’s just that it’s a small sitting room).

I will be contacting companies to see if they would like to sponsor me, And I will be shamelessly writing to everyone who is even faintly related to me, is a friend (or  a friend of a friend), has ever worked with me or smiled at me once, a long time ago.

I will also be in serious physical training – 100km may not be that far to walk, but it will be 100°F+ during the day (and freezing at night), and I will be camping!

What you can do

If you would like to help, please feel free to do any of the below (choose more than one if you want, don’t be shy):

1. Make a donation: you can send a cheque made out to TREE AID to me, or visit my Just Giving page http://www.justgiving.com/Lynne-Knight-sahara and donate online. If you can Gift Aid it, those nice people in government will give me an extra 25p for every pound you give – ask me how if you’re not sure.
2. Tell your  family and friends – they might be inspired to support me as well
3. Tell me any other sure-fire fund-raising ideas that you know
4. Donate stuff for my car boot stall – or hold your own and donate the profits
5. Collect loose change over the coming year – I have enclosed an inspiring label for your jam jar!
6. Come walking with me – let’s make the training as much fun as it is possible for physical exercise to be
7. Keep you fingers crossed and wish me well

So far, I’m enjoying the challenge, and really looking forward to spending time in the desert. I hope that you’ll feel inspired to support me (and grumpies everywhere), and change the lives of people in Africa.

All the very best