199 days to go

The great thing about mountaineering - or prolonged walking at an angle, which we will be doing - is that you don't have to explain why.

Let me explain. There's no reason at all to do it, unless the only career plan you have is to tour the motivational speaker circuit displaying x-rays of how your leg bones criss-crossed through your knee cap like so much cat's cradle. Yet people keep doing it and showing off about it down the pub, even though there's google earth to let you see what it looks like from the tops of mountains while you're at your desk wondering why the person opposite you doesn't shut up. Or, for home workers, why the dog downstairs doesn't shut up and will the postman bring anything for you today when he makes his delivery at 12.17pm.

So the stock reason is "because it's there". Fair enough. It IS there. And that sounds pseudo-profound enough to deal with your pub audience.

For us, it was more of an evolution following our 5km Gorilla Run through the City. Admittedly that's the kind of evolution which would see Piltdown Man wake up one morning with the ability to spacewalk without equipment, but never mind. That's why.

Such an evolution comes at a cost in the modern world and not just the cost that keeps the town of Arundel in cobbles and scone boutiques. Paperwork. We have a stack of it and in an attempt to beat some of it into submission, I have been giving consideration to my Tanzania visa. As I seem to spend an inordinate amount of my life on public transport, the obvious first step was to get the required passport photos taken at the train station.

Of course, when getting passport photos taken, it's tremendously important to be hungover and looking like crap. As you can see from the photo, I decided to go for a Kristen-Stewart-in-The-Runaways mullet. Oh to be a visa processor. How we ever built an empire is beyond me, i wouldn't let us over the Channel, let alone to a farm in Africa.


What we have learned:
You can save money by buying trousers which unzip into shorts. Sadly.
Tanzania is a country, not a beauty salon named by Peter Andre

Boot update:
Sunday. Day of rest.