Nevis in the Mist
So, I plodded on, into the grey soup. Found the waterfall – or rather, the torrent of icy water blasting across the path. ‘Stream’ is a bit of an understatement. My ‘no research’ policy came back to bite me. Were my boots waterproof? Who knew! Waded through, fingers crossed. Miraculously, dry socks.
MERTHYR MAWR - ABERAVON, JANUARY 27TH 2023
This was it, the reason I'd decided to walk this path, all that was missing was the flying fish jumping over the rainbow and a unicorn galloping along the beach. This would have been my dream. Each breath felt like a conscious choice, a deliberate filling of my lungs with pure beach air, chasing away the cobwebs and filling the hollow corners of my being with the essence of this coastal paradise. In that moment, adrift on a sea of sand and serenity, I understood why I'd signed up for this – not just for the escape, but for the rediscovery of a simpler rhythm, a deeper connection to the pulse of the earth and the song of the sea. On this beach, bathed in sunlight and embraced by the ocean's endless lullaby, I didn't just exist; I thrived.
My Welsh County Peaks Odyssey: A Triumph of (Mis)Adventure
Having stumbled through the COVID years with a distinct lack of personal goals (aside from mastering the art of sourdough baking and perfecting my Netflix queue), I was struggling to find something, anything, to reignite my sense of purpose. One night, while spiralling down the rabbit hole of Instagram, I came across a post about climbing the highest peak in every county of the UK. A spark ignited. While conquering the entire UK seemed a bit ambitious (for a man who considered walking to the fridge a significant athletic achievement), I figured I could at least tackle the Welsh leg. Besides, after months of lockdown-induced inertia, I desperately needed a challenge, even if it was one that involved voluntarily scaling mountains.