Fitness (Vanity)

Walking is something we used to do a lot as a family when I was a kid, and while I never did much after leaving home and throwing myself into London life, I think my childhood experiences were always at the back of my mind. As I’ve grown older, the urge to get out of the city and explore the mountains has grown and grown, and finally last year I made more of an effort to do so, with trips to Snowdonia, the Yorkshire Dales and the Lake District all helping to really awaken a long-dormant passion.

As a result, the part of my trip I’m probably looking forward to most is spending August & September trekking in the high central Andes of Peru & Bolivia. Now while I’ve enjoyed my time hiking the UK’s hills, and had no problems with them whatsoever, there’s quite a difference between the 1,085 metres of Snowdon, the highest peak I’ve visited over here, and the Punto Coyoc pass on the Huayhuash Circuit in Peru, which at 5,490m is more than five times as high. So I figured I should probably make a bit of an effort to get as fit as I possibly could before leaving if I want to make life a little bit easier for myself.

So since November I’ve made the effort to get into the routine of exercising three times a week, at my local boot camp. Now to most people I know, the idea of spending cold winter nights outside in the park, running around and doing press-ups in the mud and the rain (and even the snow on one occasion) while being barked at by ex-squaddies sounds both insane and painful. They’re probably right, and yet it’s actually great fun, and is the most sociable way of making fit I’ve ever engaged in. Plus (and this is the real reason I enjoy it) it really appeals to my competitive streak, as I push myself harder and harder to be the fastest in the class, and progress to the advanced group.

The upshot of all this hard work is that I’ve been feeling fitter than I have in years – and both to test that out and to give me an interim goal to work towards, I entered myself into a 10k run this past weekend, my first for a few years. Now I knew the training had been going well, and I expected to beat my previous best time of just shy of 50 minutes. What I didn’t expect was to beat that by more than five minutes, with a time of 44:57. I even enjoyed it (what’s happening to me in my old age? 18 year old me would have been horrified…), and now I’m seriously considering trying out a marathon when I get back from my trip. I’m feeling a lot more confident about the summer’s coming activities (although of course, now I’ve done the run, I’ll slip into a final month of farewell drinking, followed by doing very little exercise during the first few months of the trip, and undoing all the good work).

Of course I’d be lying if I said all this exercise was purely to get me fit for the mountains. A happy side effect is that the beer belly I’d been beginning to develop has fallen away, and I’m now back to the weight I was in my early twenties, which will certainly help me look better on the beach. (and in other vanity-related news, I’ll be more keen than previously to produce a cheesy grin for the cameras, now that today I’ve finally had the veneer fitted to replace the filling that’s been patching up my broken front tooth for around fifteen years now, and which has never looked quite right. I’m very pleased with it, although I’ll be glad when the anaesthetic wears off and I can feel my face again.)

Sod carnival: I prefer pancakes

My friends Rob & Briony are currently on their honeymoon in Brazil, where they’ll get the chance to experience carnival in Rio. You might think I’d be jealous – in fact, I’m not at all, as today is PANCAKE DAY.

Rio Carnival: no pancakes here

Now I understand how people may be more easily impressed by carnival spectacles such as the samba bands in Rio, the drunken debuachery in Cologne or the drag queens and dykes on bikes at Sydney Mardi Gras.

Sydney Mardi Gras: also distinct lack of pancake

By comparison, the practice of partying before lent begins by eating pancakes may seem a little bit tame. But really. You can get drunk, throw on a frock and cake yourself in makeup any day of the year. Whereas it is a true FACT that pancakes only taste this nice for one day of the year, and that is today, pancake day. Most of the year I can take them or leave them. But today, I plan to stuff myself. I’ve already managed to get off to a good start, as I happened to pass a cafe in Wandsworth this morning serving them (I wasn’t going to let the the little fact that I was on the way to the dentist stop me). I may try and find more for lunch. And then will be making them at home this evening. Sugar. Lemon. Currants. Pancakey goodness. Mmmm. And lots of it.

Who needs sequins?

Actually, I’m not normally quite this obsessed with pancake day. But as the start of my trip gets ever closer I’ve suddenly found myself getting obsessed with various comfort foods from various periods of my youth. Saturday evening saw me eat my first Viennetta in years. Last night was tinned rice pudding. I’m already plotting various must-eats over my remaining nights, and thinking long and hard about which of my mum’s favourite meals I’ll be begging for on my last trip home. It’s silly really, I’m only going for a year, and it’s been far longer than that since I ate half of these things. Clearly my sub-conscious has started missing home before I’ve even gone.

Anyway, whatever the psychological reason behind it: I just can’t get enough of pancake day. Actually, writing about it now gets me thinking – is this just a British thing, or did we manage to export the tradition elsewhere?

Top 10 National Parks

In my attempt to list out all my favourite travel places before I leave for my RTW trip, I’ve already covered off countries, cities, world heritage sites and islands, to give me a base to compare against when I get back. Given my growing love of the great outdoors, I figured it was time to tackle my favourite national parks.

1. Tikal National Park, Guatemala

Temples & jungle in Tikal

Not just my favourite World Heritage Site, but my favourite National Park too. Not many national parks have huge ruined Mayan cities in the middle. Even fewer have howler monkeys too. If you haven’t heard a howler monkey in the wild, you haven’t lived (you can get an idea of the sound from myvideo). Everywhere you go you hear them make their strange strangulated roaring noises. While they howlers steal the show, the place is crawling with wildlife – in the brief time I was there I also saw spider monkeys, leaf-cutter ants, coatimundis and oscellated turkeys. Sadly I didn’t get to see a jaguar though.

2. Blue Mountains National Park, NSW, Australia

This was very close to topping my list of most disappointing national parks – the day I arrived from Sydney, the fog was so thick, the view was like this:

Blue Mountains in the fog

Luckily, the next morning the fog lifted, the sun came out, and we saw that the view was stunning:

The next day: same spot, much better view

3. The Lake District National Park, England

Lake District view

Probably the most famous in England, and deservingly so. Seeing the hills covered in snow last December was truly the most beautiful I’ve ever seen England look.

4. Snowdonia National Park, Wales

Taking a breather to enjoy the view in Snowdonia

One of the wettest places in the UK (which is saying something), as I discovered on my visit. The mountains are of a very different character to the Lake District, with a less jagged and more open landscape. Plus with all the signs and placenames being in Welsh as well as English, it somehow feels more exotic than travelling within England.

5. La Vanoise National Park, France

View across La Vanoise from the slopes of La Plagne

This may sound stupid, but one thing I’d never really considered over the years that I refused to give skiing a try, was that part of the appeal was the beauty of the mountains. The first morning I took the gondola to the top of La Grande Rochette, the view out over the Vanoise, France’s oldest national park, was simply breathtaking. For the rest of the week I kept having to stop (actually it was more that I kept falling over), and take it all in.

6. Yorkshire Dales National Park, England

Trains are by far my favourite way to travel. Mountains are my favourite landscape. The Settle-Carlisle railway combines the two as it cuts its way across the Yorkshire Dales, and it’s quite spectacular (which just makes me all the keener to try Switzerland’s Glacier Express. Walking the Yorkshire 3 Peaks is one of the UK’s great walks (and one of my highlights of 2008); less well-known is that the park also has some of the country’s best caving.

7. Lamington National Park, Queensland, Australia

Getting friendly with the local birds in the Lamington National Park

It may have great surf, but the Gold Coast of Australia isn’t really my kind of place. One of the things it really has going for it is the easy access to Lamington, part of theGondwana Rainforests world heritage site. It’s the largest sub-tropical rainforest in the world, and sits on a plateau that is the remains of a vast ancient volcano. It’s great for hiking, and I had fun getting close to the local birdlife while I was there.

8. Pembrokeshire Coast National Park, Wales

The only National Park in the UK that exists because of its coastline, the Pembrokeshire Coast also has one of the country’s best long distance walks, all the way round the coastline. It’s also famous for its sea birds, particularly around the island of Skomer, which is a reserve. It’s also great for activities – coasteering during my brother’s stag weekend was one of the most fun days I’ve ever had.

9. Tulum National Park, Mexico

Tulum - temple by the beach

It’s the only ruined Mayan city on the coast. That coast is the Caribbean. Ruined ancient city, on the cliffs overlooking white sand and turquoise sea. What’s not to love? If I had one gripe it’d be the crowds (all those daytrippers from Cancun).

10. Northumberland National Park, England

I’m sure if you asked most Brits to name all the national parks in the country, Northumberland would probably be right down the bottom of the list. Sitting right to the east of the Lake District, and at the lower, northern end of the Pennines that also contain the more dramatic Yorkshire Dales & Peak District, that’s probably no surprise. The plus side is that it gets far less crowded than those, and it’s just as beautiful. It also provides easy access to the stunning beaches and castles of the Northumberland coast, which in my book is by far England’s most underrated spot.

Snow brings out the best in Londoners

So it continued to snow overnight, and by this morning we’ve now had the most snow for 18 years. It’s still snowing now, and it’s due to get heavier as the day goes on. As a result, London is now pretty much closed.

All buses are suspended. Most tubes and trains too. The airports are shut. Most of the shops are shut as people can’t get in to work. Various commentators on TV are grumbling at how pathetic it is that the kind of snow most countries wouldn’t bat an eyelid at has paralysed our capital city. It’s even going to worsen the economic meltdown, apparently.

Fight!

Based on this morning’s walk on Clapham Common, I doubt you’d find many Londoners having any sympathy with that kind of moan: the atmosphere is fantastic. There are rarely this many people on the common even on a hot summer’s day, and everyone is wandering around smiling, saying hello to strangers, getting caught up in snowball fights and generally having fun. Who said London was an unfriendly place? It certainly seems to be bringing out the best in everyone. Enjoying it most of all are the children and the dogs (who knew there were so many dogs in Clapham? Also – I would say the dogs just about seem to have the edge over the kids in the enjoyment stakes, even the tiny ones whose heads barely poke over the level of the snow). And there are snowmen EVERYWHERE.

A new friend

The way it’s going, tomorrow could well be the same. I haven’t taken an unscheduled day off work since 2005, so I think I’ve earned a day or two at home (especially considering I’m in my notice period).

Sunday night snow

When the forecast said it was going to snow, I was a bit meh about the whole thing – snow is invariably rubbish in London, with the odd pathetic shower a couple of times a year, which then fails to settle (or even if it does, turns to brown slush within minutes). I certainly didn’t expect the heaviest snow we’ve had in years – at one point it was falling so heavily I couldn’t even see the block of flats just over a hundred metres away, and it quickly began to settle.

Pretty soon the blizzard outside was matched by a flurry of excited tweets & Facebook status updates, and I figured I should make the most of the rare conditions (I think I’ve seen snow settle in Clapham maybe twice in the fourteen years I’ve been living here) to venture for a walk out on the Common.

Clapham Common bandstand in the snow

I love the way the snow brings out the big kid in people – before I even got to the common, I’d already seen my first snowball fight, out on the street, and soon after, a young couple making a snowman. The common itself
looked beautiful covered in snow, and being able to be the first to walk across the fresh blanket of powder had a similar effect on me, bringing out the urge to slide along the paths and down slopes. I even saw a couple of kids out with their dad, attempting to sledge down the slope at the side of the bandstand – I admire their efforts, but I’m not sure quite how exhilarating it when the slope in question is no more than three metres long.

The snow also brings out a second, more serious group of people – the SLR photographers. All over the common, mostly hunched in front of trees, were men with tripods and big lenses, snapping away. In most cases, they were accompanied by bored-looking girlfriends, tightly wrapped up against the cold. I don’t envy them (although I’m looking forward to seeing the benefit on Flickr later, as their photos will no doubt be a hell of a lot more impressive than mine).

Even on a normal day, when you’re stood in the middle of the Common, the noise of the traffic drops to a gentle background hum, and you can almost imagine you’re not in the city. In the middle of a blizzard, the effect is even more convincing. Stood there in the snow was about as peaceful as you’re ever going to get in London.

Clearly most people had decided to stay inside in the warm, and I felt quite sorry for the legions of pizza deliverymen I saw gingerly making their way down the hill on their scooters. They didn’t look like they were having much fun at all.

Snowman

Back home in the warm now and there’s no end to the snow, apparently we’re due much more over night. Unfortunately, getting to work by tube means there’s no chance of skipping work due to being snowed in (and anyway, once everyone is out and about in the morning, it’ll be turning slushy pretty quickly), but nevertheless, it’s been nice to see London like this, especially as I’m about to embark on a year in the sun.

Winter walking in the Lake District

I’ve been rained on every time I’ve gone hiking this year, so I was expecting more of the same when I planned a weekend of pre-Christmas walking in the Lake District. Remarkably enough, it not only turned out dry, but the sun came out as well – in fact we had a completely cloud free day. With around two feet of snow on higher ground, and a sprinkling even in the valleys, it made for the perfect winter walking. With the sun glistening off the snow contrasting against the bright blue of the sky, it made for absolutely stunning views from the top of the hills.

Easedale

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A very friendly robin

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="Me at the top of Belles Knot, overlooking Easedale"][/caption]

Codale Tarn

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="500" caption="Sheep over Langdale"][/caption]

I’d even go as far as to say I’ve never seen England look so beautiful. Hopefully I’ll get another chance to go back before I leave for Mexico; it would be too much to expect to have another day like Saturday.

Ho Ho Ho

Maybe it’s because last year I spent Christmas in a hot country for the first time (don’t get me wrong, it was fantastic, just not exactly traditional)

Maybe it’s because next year I know I’ll be spending it somewhere in Asia (most likely the Philippines), away from friends and family again.

Maybe it’s because I’ve quit my job and am therefore enjoying life more already.

Maybe it’s because I know I’ll be getting to spend the day with my two nephews who I know will be very, very excited.

Or maybe it’s just because I’m going soft in my old age.

Whatever the reason, I am feeling SO much more Christmassy than usual this year. I’m normally a bit scrooge-like but not this time. I’m even planning to decorate my desk at work.

In my newfound spirit of enthusiasm for Christmas, I’ve even been getting excited about the emergence of the Christmas lights – and thankfully they are a hell of a lot better than the usual tacky rubbish. Regent Street is covered by nets of lights that look like a giant spider has wound its way down the street casting a huge glowing web over the shoppers. Better still is Carnaby Street, which is full of great big jolly snowmen.

Christmas on Carnaby Street

Of course I still haven’t actually attempted any Christmas shopping yet. I think I may leave it a while longer too – because it’s normally enough of an ordeal to kill any Christmas spirit I have!

Martin Creed’s Work no. 850

The last thing you expect in an art gallery is to be nearly knocked off your feet by a man sprinting flat out down the main atrium, in full running gear. The look of shock on the faces of some of the visitors as they ducked out of the way was priceless (and infinitely better than the whole of the Turner Prize exhibition put together), so much so that it’s a shame I already knew what to expect, meaning I didn’t get to experience the shock myself. Martin Creed’s Work no. 850 consisted of a person running flat out through Tate Britain every thirty seconds, and is the most fun artwork I’ve seen in ages.

The work was inspired by the artist having to literally run through a museum to catch it all before closing time, prompting uncontrollable laughter:

I think it’s good to see museums at high speed. It leaves time for other things.

It’s a great philosophy I think. And one I might suggest the owners of the Wieliczka Salt Mines allow. It’d certainly liven the place up.

Fright Nights at Thorpe Park

Nothing brings out the big kid in me like a rollercoaster. The adrenaline rush from them is possibly my favourite feeling in the world, so I have no idea why it’s taken me a good 15 years to revisit Thorpe Park (London’s only decent theme park).

After yet another summer of promising to go and not getting round to it, we finally got round to going on Sunday, just before it closed for the season. And it was brilliant. Definite highlight was Colossus, which goes upside down 10 times (the most in the world). Nemesis Inferno, an inverted coaster was pretty great too. Detonator, a 35m vertical drop, was far better than it looked. I’m not sure going on Tidal Wave was a good idea though – the size of the wave it throws up is absolutely huge, and of course we got soaked, which is not exactly a great idea on a cold November day. Hilariosly we were in front of a group of teenage lads who’d decided the best way to tackle it was to do it topless – the water was so cold I’m quite glad I had a jacket on!

We didn’t get to go on quite as many rides as I’d have liked, as our visit coincided with the last day of their annual Fright Nights promotion, a series of Halloween-themed events.

Now Halloween has never been much of a big deal for me – it’s exactly a week before my birthday (which is obviously FAR more important), plus Bonfire night, a few days later, was always a much bigger deal when growing up (and still is at home in Clapham, where the fireworks on Wednesday night will probably attract around 100,000 people). So I hadn’t really registered quite how big a deal it’s become these days – the park was heaving.

Highlight of the event are the four themed mazes. The queues were huge – up to 90 minutes – so we just went for the one we’d read was the best, Asylum. Over the length of the queue we started to worry if it was worth the wait – but we really needn’t have. It’s basically a long, disorientating dark maze, and you go in groups of eight, in a line with your hands on the shoulders of the person in front of you. The whole time you’re in there, there is constant strobe lights, mirrors everywhere, sheets and netting hanging from the ceiling in various places, and the sound of screams echoing round the room. At various points actors dressed as various freaks leap out at you from all angles. Sounds a bit cheesy – but it was bloody brilliant.

I drew the short straw of going first, which was terrifying, especially when someone leapt in front of me with a chainsaw. This video, from 2006, gives you the gist of it:

Terrifying, but the best fun I’ve had in ages. I’ll definitely be heading back in 2010, after my trip.

Tate Modern: TH.2058, Rothko and Cildo Meireles

After the relative disappointment of my trip to the National Gallery, I returned to more familiar territory: Tate Modern. I’ve been a member of the Tate almost since it opened, but this trip was one I was particularly looking forward to, as it was my first chance to see the newly-opened Rothko exhibition.

The Rothko room at the Tate has always been my favourite part of the gallery, so the chance to see an expanded exhibition, grouping them together for the first time with the other paintings originally designed to go in the restaurant at the Seagram building in New York was something I definitely didn’t want to miss. I find it hard to put into words exactly why I like his work so much, I just know they bring out quite a strong emotional response in me. There’s been a fair bit of criticism about the way the work has been hung (apparently in line with Rothko’s wishes, with low light, against off-white walls, and relatively high up on the wall) but to me it just seemed to enhance the power.

As well as the main room, there were several other rooms featuring other examples of his later, darker work – one of which had a series of paintings that were entirely black, which I loved. (Does this mean I’m going emo?). There’s also a little section where they show close-ups of sections of work as seen under UV light, which really shows up the complexities of the paintings, each one made up of numerous layers of brushstrokes running in different directions.

While I knew I’d love the Rothkos, I had no idea what to expect from the other main exhibition, focusing on Brazilian artist Cildo Meireles. As it was free (as a member), there was nothing to lose by popping in – and I’m glad we did, it turned out to be brilliant. In parts thought-provoking, serious, playful and subversive, it’s one of the most fun I’ve been to. Best of all were the more interactive bits – walking across layers of broken glass (‘Through’) was a strangely disconcerting experience; doing the same over 600,000 1p coins (‘Mission/Missions’) fun – until we got told off by the guard (how were we to know we could walk on the glass but not the coins??).

Detail of Mission / Missions (How to build cathedrals), 1967 - aka lots of shiny pennies

Sadly queues meant we missed out on what sounds like the best bit – ‘Volatile’, a room which is knee-deep in talcum powder, that you have to take your shoes off to go into, maximum four at a time. I’m definitely going back for that one.

Finally we headed down to the Turbine Hall to see the latest exhibit in the Unilever Series, TH.2058 by Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster. And quite frankly it’s rubbish. Probably my least favourite so far (just beating my previous least-liked, Doris Salcedo’s ‘Shibboleth’, aka the Crack). It’s based around a distopian vision of the future. Being a bit of a sci-fi nerd, this should’ve been right up my street. But really – some metal bunk-beds, a series of clips of old sci-fi films and some giant reconstructions of London’s famous outdoor sculptures? As distopias go it’s pretty silly. You’d do better to pick up any of the similarly-themed books scattered across the beds and read them instead, which is what most of the visitors in fact seemed to be doing.

TH.2058 at Tate Modern

All in all a much more rewarding day than the trip to the National.