Mountains and Hills and little needles of death
Some of you may have noticed that I haven't been around much recently - the truth is that I have had my head stuck up my own arse for about three weeks.
It happens periodically - I get all withdrawn and weird, nothing tastes right or looks right or sounds right or feels right. Its shitty. but I have been dealing with it all for my adult life so I am fairly adept at managing it - this one though has been trickier to shift.
I think the most difficult thing about my depression is the lack of feeling - nothing provides joy anymore. Everything feels quite bland and very faraway and unconnected to me.
I observe that the country as a whole is in a sort of a fugue of emotion, or rather lack of it - alot of people have found lock down difficult and now that we are finally crawling out of being hermetically sealed in our houses after 15 months of this bollocks we aren't quite sure what to do or feel.
So I have made a decision, and a unanimous one at that.
I am freely stating that I have had it with Covid, lock down, social distancing, masks and being squirted with anti bacterial gel at every juncture. I‘m just not playing anymore.
Hurrah! It’s more fun not playing. You’ll feel so much better by metaphorically sticking two fingers up at the latest nanny state posters telling you who you can and can’t hug.
And I don't think I am alone in this. People are sick and tired of everything and this is evidenced by some truly strange things reports in the media:
Boris buying utterly terrible wallpaper for £850.00 quid a roll - why? And more importantly does anyone give a fuck?
Keir Starmer reacting to this by being photographed wistfully browsing the wallpaper in John Lewis - To what end Keir? What on earth were you trying to achieve you total plank?
Kier is the definition of a plank. It’s his hair.
Hartlepool - what happened there? Does anyone care?
No. it’s hilarious that the middle class Labour voters don’t understand this. I watch and smile at their patronising woke naivety.
Diane Abbott - no that's it! Diane Abbott is the question.
She was photographed in public wearing odd shoes. No further comment required.
Duke of Edinburgh - why does anyone feel the need to pillory him, he just spent his time doing his job and insulting people - I think that sounds like quite good fun!
I’d have gone out for a drink with him. Bloody good laugh that man.
Harry and Meghan - what were they thinking - is this woman insane? Does she know what truth is - and why did Piers Morgan get the sack for saying he didn't believe her?
Because you’re not allowed to voice your opinion anymore apparently. Except in blogs which started off being about preparing for a trek to Nepal, but seem to have got sidetracked.
Its all very odd and not really very helpful....
So I decided that I had had it with Covid, and that I was going to operate in a non covid compliant manner and to that end have rocked up to Edinburgh.
Yeah!!!!!! Up yours Sturgeon.
The journey up was uneventful although I did enjoy every single individual weather type, hail, rain sun, Interestingly at the Scottish border there was a 3 metre wide band of torrential rain with sun either side...which was slightly disconcerting.
My arrival in Edinburgh happily coincided with the entrance, with friends to a private club - there was unlimited prosecco and crisps and people - not many people but they were in 3 dimensions. there was also popcorn, which Bec undertook to bowl across said establishment at another friends‘ open mouth - on the 98th attempt she achieved popcorn mouth happiness and the resultant cheer was awe inspiring - we are all over 45.
Bec had had some shots which may go some way to explaining her behaviour.
This morning I was informed that we were heading off into the Pentland Hills to climb a mountain or three - my entire being did that flat mouth emoji....
Full of 'glee' off we set in trusty Gertie and found the car park without driving around in circles for hours - which is quite frankly a first for Bec and I.
I’d visited the very same car park the day before so had remembered where it was.
We walked through some truly beautiful scenery, crossed a reservoir - which was beautiful.
I managed not to scream in terror when we arrived at the foot of the first mountainous hilly effort, which appeared to be a 90 degree angled climb with the peak swathed in clouds.
Half way up I was really regretting being in Scotland and wished that I hadn't unilaterally cancelled Covid.
I‘d selected a walk which was listed as ‘difficult’ and accidentally on purpose forgotten to mention this to Pip.
Once I achieved the peak of this motherfucker my lungs were burning despite the 400 gazillion stops to catch my breath. Bec annoyingly has scrambled up like a mountain gazelle. Deeply irritating of her.
I had my poles.
As we sat at the top, a worryingly pointy stony narrow platform that threatened to tumble us downhill if we so much as moved, surveying the frankly awesome view, we found that a large black cloud had joined us at the summit and was doing its best to obliterate the view.
It quickly attained this, and in its train came what felt like a force ten gale.
Cowardly I went down the first ten feet on my bum as standing up wasn't an option. this caused a level of hilarity from the vicinity of Bec that I wasn't 100% happy about.
I may have pointed and laughed.
As we 'strolled' on to the next hill to walk up - the wind picked up and it started to rain, by this time we were a bit cold. Actually fucking freezing probably wouldn't be an overstatement.
Pip’s fingers turned white and I was worried she might need one amputating due to frost bite. I didn’t mention this at the time.
The rain, intriguingly, wasn't just freezing cold and wet, it was also impersonating icy cold needles of death, that were insinuating their way in between every layer of clothing that we had on.
'Strange how very unpleasant having soggy cold legs can be' I thought to myself
10 long minutes later I had lost all feeling in my legs. They were numb.
Discussion was impossible as the wind was taking not only your breath and your voice but also anything your nose contained - It quite literally blew the snot out of you.
Bec toiled away up to the next summit, I puffed and panted behind her, quite a long way behind her in truth. I do have to admit at this point that I thought that I was going to have a heart attack.
I kept checking she hadn’t had a heart attack and had Mountain Rescue on speed dial.
I started to develop quite a dislike of hilly mountain things.
Then came the snow by this time I was feeling a touch less than happy, however I kept it all in - mainly because talking was futile as the eviscerating wind and rain drowned all noise and all we could hear was the roaring of high speed clouds as they attacked us - it began to feel personal.
Two down one to go - by now Eddie - a small dog who has just enjoyed a very natty haircut was crying and shivering uncontrollably - I was with him, I too wanted to cry.
We reached the third summit - and it was like Piccadilly bloody Circus - There was an obligatory chap in lycra with a retriever of some sort - jogging - I mean for fuck sake - I can hardly walk and this chap appears over the crest of the hill at a trot.
Little old couple who looked like they may not make it to the top of the next hill, and two insane individuals on mountain bikes!
We saw joggers who were in shorts, clearly several sandwiches short of a picnic.
The snow, hail and wind had now reached epic proportions - happily we were wending our weary way down hill, as we reached the lea of the mountain and speech was once more achievable I suggested to Bec that if we had to do any more uphill bits I may lie down, drum my heels and scweem and scweem until I was sthick
Thankfully for our friendship we were headed back along the valley towards the car park..
We are now home and I can’t walk.
Turns out the best cure for a really nasty episode of depression is walking up three hilly mountain things with your best mate.
I recommend it. - And the wine that EPH has just put into my hand.