It’s a sweet thing to be surrounded by creatives. One of my favourites just launched an online mag of note, Conteu: a space that ‘honours the thinkers, celebrates the makers and inspires the adventurers.’ Amen to that. Here’s an excerpt of some musings I gave them for their first edition…
It’s 5 o’clock.
Ergo, it’s adventure time.
The rumours go that Scotland is home to a whole bunch of Gods.
Being the very homestead of the deities is one reason for the stonking badge it’s been given of ‘God’s Country.’ The other reason is one you will only make sense of once you have wound your way in to the highlands for yourself.
There’s a magic in those mountains- a magic that would bamboozle even Bilbo, Frodo and co.
(And their ain’t no higher praise than the hobbit seal of approval).
The great thing about winding up the river Frome from Poole Harbour and in to Wareham is that the end point is a pub.
That’s assuming your vessel won’t fit under the bridge. If you are traversing the water way by kayak then you can definitely keep right on going after a quick pint at The Old Granary all the way to, well, the river source I imagine.
That’s one great thing.
It’s the stars that took the biscuit.
The stars and eating the most flavourful tagines that had been cooked under the sand for hours. It was washing with water from deep wells after days spent under an unrelenting sun and travelling with Berbers on camels across a landscape that looked indiscriminate to my eye yet they read like their palm. It was running down dunes and feeling like you were wearing space boots. It was waking up and going to sleep according to the sun.
(and those stars).