Grand Adventures. Alastair Humphreys

Чтение книги онлайн.

      © Anthony Goddard/Linda Martini

      This much is true: expeditions have cost me time, money, relationships and messed with sensible life plans and pension prospects. They do not make my life easy. They are selfish. But I do not regret any of them. Indeed, I regret a few that I have not done. Adventures have enhanced my life and – this is important – they have ultimately enhanced most of those things I just mentioned, too, despite the initial pain, suffering, worry, compromise and hassle. In other words, my journeys have been worth it in the long run.

      When I set off to cycle round the world I did not have a job or a mortgage. I had no monthly bills to pay. So long as I did not spend all the money I had saved, I was free to do whatever I wanted, wherever I wanted, for however long I wanted. My life was simple. I look back at that younger me with enormous envy!

      If you are young, free and single, now is the time to head for the hills and go do something extraordinary. Life will never be so simple again, for you are not yet entangled in the mesh of commitments that grows over the years. Save up a bit of cash, whatever you can manage, and then go do something crazy. It will enhance your CV and teach you more than most expensive tuition fees will ever do. If a future employer isn’t more inclined to give you a job because of your experiences then they’re not the type you want to be working for anyway. Skip this chapter and go now! You have no excuse.

      Money and time constraints make life complicated, but with planning you can free yourself from some of the muddle. Far more binding are our relationships: husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends and families. If your other half is also itching for adventure, then things should be straightforward and exciting. You just need to start saving and start planning today. If you both save £1,000 and are happy to share a tent then you’ve got double the money and fewer outgoings.

      If you’re in a relationship and both wish to travel but you have children, adventure planning becomes more complicated. But if your brood are young enough not to have an opinion, or even if they are able to express an opinion but you can still get away with saying ‘because I told you so’, then adventures are still quite achievable.

      Ingrid, Sean and their 8-year-old daughter, Kate, cycled the length of the Americas. Ingrid and Sean were accomplished kayakers and trekkers before they began. This may not appear to benefit a transcontinental cycling journey. But it does in one important way: they knew what life in the wild and on the road was like, and they wanted more of it. They had the appetite. They had momentum and confidence. Theirs was not a standing start. Overcoming the inertia of normal life and generating momentum is very difficult. It can feel overwhelmingly daunting to say ‘we are going to change our life. We are going to go and do something big and bold. We will begin on this date. And right now we are going to begin to get ready by doing x, y and z.’ It’s a lot easier just to put the telly on and watch Bear Grylls.

      Ingrid and Sean had to face the challenges of arranging for Kate to miss school, dealing with the concerns of well-meaning friends and family about taking a small girl on a big adventure, and managing their plans to make them compatible with helping an eight-year-old achieve a journey that most adults would be extremely jealous of!

      There are challenges and potential difficulties in taking your family down an unconventional route like this, but what an education for Kate! What an achievement! What a glorious shared adventure for the whole family to remember and savour for the rest of their lives. That is worth the hassle.

      Perhaps the most potentially difficult scenario is that you desperately wish to travel the world but your other half does not, and cannot be persuaded. If you’re lucky you’ll be given their blessing and the freedom to head out and do your own thing, reuniting afterwards in a lovely cocktail of happiness, rainbows and fluffy kittens.

      But you may have a partner who – wonderful though they may be – does not want to join you on a trip, and does not want you to go either. This is where things get tricky. I’m not sure my dubious Agony Aunt skills will be much help, but I shall try my best!

      You’ll need to mull over a few questions to help everything proceed as amicably and smoothly as possible. This is a kind, decent thing to do, of course. But it’s also your best option for being able to wangle another leave pass to go on an adventure again in the future!

      Is it the time away, the money, the risk, the person you’ll be going away with, or the inconvenience of being left to juggle everything back home by themselves?

      If it’s the length of time you will be away that is the problem, can you negotiate something that is acceptable for you both? Make the best of the time you’re granted and hatch a plan that is suitably short and sharp. This will rule out cycling round the world, but won’t eliminate everything.

      After cycling round the world for four years, it took me a while to learn that duration is not the key measuring stick for a ‘good adventure’. There are many other ingredients to a great trip, and time is not critical to the recipe. It took me 45 days to row across the Atlantic, and a week to walk round the M25. Both were memorable experiences. I personally feel that six weeks is a good minimum amount of time to do something really significant and rewarding. Jason Lewis suggests six months – but then he did spend 13 years on his adventure! Meanwhile climbers can get up and down something special in a couple of weeks. Ultimately, it’s better to do something short than nothing at all.

      If it’s not so much the absence of your lovely personality that is the problem but the absence of your useful role in sharing life’s daily chores, can you think of ways to equal up your balance sheet before or after the trip? Bear in mind that you will be perceived to be in debt on this account for the rest of your life, even long after you feel the debt has been settled! It’s the price you’ll have to pay.

      If money is the stumbling block, work out between you how much money you can justify spending, then set that as your limit for the trip. You’ll still be able to do something great: doing stuff on a daft budget often makes it more fun anyway. Try pointing out how rich Bear Grylls has become from his adventures. Do not mention that almost nobody else has, though!

      If it’s the risk of the adventure that’s causing friction, focus on an idea where the risk (or the perceived risk, at least) is lower. Perceived risk is an interesting concept; people often suggest to me that rowing across the Atlantic in a little boat was very dangerous. But so long as you don’t fall off the boat, it’s really not very dangerous at all, for you are in control of most of the risks. Keep the hatches closed, keep yourself tied to the boat: chances are you’ll be fine.