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!