Climbing up mountains is life-changing in so many ways. The contemplation of man vs. The elements. The journey of self-knowledge. The relentless battle in the wardrobe of substance over style.
And yesterday I came across a new one - no more giving blood for me this year. Apparently when I come back from the mountain my blood will be sloshing with malaria pills, sleeping sickness and pox from eating monkey brains like in Indiana Jones.
They don't want me there for six months afterwards it seems, lest they be tempted to consume me into a giant biohazard bag.
Begs the question: "where am I going to get my free Wagon Wheels now?"
What we have learned:
I'll have to get through almost 10 months without being congratulated on my veins
Boot update:
The NHS does not believe in their protective qualities as much as it could
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