a note for first-timers

If it's your first time here and you're new to blogs, the first post you'll see is the most recent so that's where you should be ending, rather than starting. Otherwise, carry on...

Please, feel free to comment - you know you want to.

a right bunch of cuts

I went climbing at the weekend in the Peak District. It's the first time I've climbed outdoors and, well, frankly, it's nothing like climbing indoors. About the only similarity is that both generally require you to travel in a roughly upward direction.

As a consequence of those activities, I've got cuts, scrapes, grazes, bruises, achey things, scratches - I think you get the picture - all over. Mostly, they're on my arms and hands but the holes in the knees of my cargo pants are testament to their wide-ranging nature.

I'd like to simply blame the sharp, scratchy, heartless nature of the rocks, but I have an uneasy feeling that it's much more to do with me being simply a bit rubbish. Still, it was my first time and, let's face it, we've all had trouble with "first times" in one pursuit or another. *ahem*

I did, however, manage to successfully climb every route I attempted, which was no mean feat when you consider the amount of skin and blood lost during the course of those exertions.

It's a bit like having a hangover, actually - you go out and have fun and start feeling sorry for yourself the next day and half-heartedly regretting it, knowing full-well you'll go out and do it all again at some point.

Oh, and I learned a couple of new things at the weekend too: trying to sleep in a tent doesn't agree with me; and young children wake up far too early. The protagonists on this occasion happened to be part of a family one tent over; the part of the family that likes throwing pots at daddy long legs. I'd have said, "Bless", but it was 6:30 in the morning. Sheer madness!