I have a badly bruised bahookie. I was leaving the doctor’s last week, it was a dreich, drizzly day and I slipped and fell on the stone steps….aye-ya, or rather AYE-YA. As I had a hen island adventure weekend to attend (more of which later), I struggled on and largely drank my way through the pain for several days. On sobering up this week, I realised that I had a real pain in the ass and bruises that outdo Cheryl Cole’s tat.
This morning I hirpled back to the Doc’s and dropped my drawers to let him see the damage. After gasping and Goodness Me-ing a bit, he told me I’ve a large haematoma and that it will take a while to heal. So, no walking for me this week and to fill the time, I’ve been looking through some past pictures.
My, what an amount of mountains I climbed, how fit I must have been…..and man, have I gone downhill since! The featured image is me on the Ficaill a Choire Chais ridge on Cairngorm in 2000. The same year, I scaled the Aonach Eagach ridge (above), the thought of which now makes me quite pale and nauseous.
The following year, I travelled to Nepal and trekked for three weeks through the Himalaya to the ancient Kingdom of Mustang. Shrouded in mystery, Mustang was closed for many years to foreigners. It finally opened its doors in 1988, although access is restricted and trekkers require a permit. Mustang lies in the rain shadow of the Himalaya and geographically is part of the highlands of Tibet. It is a vast high arid valley, characterised by eroded canyons, colourful stratified rock formations and has a barren, desert-like appearance. It was an amazing experience.