“If you ever get lost you need to stand out like a turd on a snooker table.” Those were the words that came out of the mouth of the enthusiastic and wickedly witty septuagenarian who held the audience in rapture. He sat in a camp chair, a wooden walking stick at his side and a leather cap on his head. On the ground beside him, a paper cup of tea steamed. He reached down frequently to take a sip of the brew. Continue reading
Me, a compass and three burly blokes
So I can now officially read a compass and an Ordnance Survey map. (Yep, the certificate is even winging its way to me in the post as I write.)
After my minor freak out on the rain-driven and cloud-covered slopes of Mt Snowdon last year, and my stupidly ambitious desire to climb 40 volcanoes by the age of 40, I thought it best to actually get some outdoor skills.