If there was one thing that was drilled into me as a child, it was that all your body’s heat is, at any given moment, flooding out of your head. Even more than the importance of finishing your greens, or not swimming for an hour after eating, hats were imperative at all times. Odd, given the lustrous locks pouring out of my head, which would seem to do the job, but I know better than to mess with Science.
It should therefore have come as no shock to students of genetics that my sister should make me a hat for the task ahead and jolly lovely it is too. It combines perfectly with my tiny child-like head to allow me to wear my furry bear-hat and still see out.
But can you really have enough hats? I’ve been reading the book on Kilimanjaro again and I can’t help but think it looks nippy. So, when The Brain and I were in an outlet mall in Fareham (because it was the nearest Starbucks to the New Forest, alright?) it was but the work of a moment for me to snap up the above. And, as you can see, it was easily adapted to keep with our moustache theme.
I tried it out walking round the Cissbury Rings and right toasty it was.
What we have learned:
My head is the same size as a child aged 8-10. The balaclava was, in fact, a bit loose...
Boot update:
I also acquired some discount socks. Success will be sock-based, is my feeling
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