Last Friday Sacha finally finished packing for her sister’s wedding. It took two days. There was a lot to think about – Baby Violet’s food and outfits, our wedding clothes, and the fact that Sacha was returning to work after maternity leave the day after we would get back. So the packing was very stressful for both of us, perhaps though in different ways.

It was tough for me because since the physical and mental trauma of last year’s events, and the subsequent long term fatigue, a large part of me really doesn’t like going away – I just want to stay local. I’m not sure exactly why, but I feel more secure / safe / happy near home. I’ve never felt like this before in my life and it’s a bit worrying.

It’s kind of weird because I spend a lot of time thinking about living in other countries and also planning bikepacking adventures. I have to get outside every day, preferably surrounded by nature. Also this blog was initially created to document my adventures, big and small.

Anyway on Friday afternoon Sacha finally got on the train to her mums, loaded up with Baby Violet and enough gear to make me question whether living without a car is possible in our current situation. I went to the station to help them onto the train and waved goodbye. I missed Baby Violet instantly.

On the walk home I had a little thought – I could pack some gear and cycle to a nearby beach, test out my new Vinted bought bikepacking clothes, make a cup of tea on my new Toaks Ultralight Woodburning Stove (I love this thing), sit by the big wave crashing sea (it was pretty stormy) and watch the day turn into night, one of my favourite pastimes. Gear testing plus chillin’.

An hour later I was cycling into an unpleasant headwind with about an hour to spare before the sun set. I headed to the chalky Undercliff walk. I had to dodge the spray from the stormy sea crashing into the sea wall which sent plumes high into the air with a resounding thump. It was fun and a bit scary.

I found a sheltered spot behind some large breakwater rocks and set to work getting the stove to light in the wind – it took a while, a learning experience in itself.

I made the tea, wrapped myself up in my new clothing, and did nothing, exhausted from the previous days and looking after Baby Violet. 

Some time later the waves were still crashing about when I rode home in the pitch black towards the marina. It was spooky in the dark on my own with few people around. I had to remind myself I was a 60 year old grown up.

But it was a grim, dark, dramatic and beautiful night.

And that was it, really. 

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m finding that mini adventures work well for me with my limited time (and energy), and I’m looking forward to being creative about finding and dreaming up such opportunities to get out there.

And yes, it was worth leaving the flat, both for this evening and the wedding weekend that followed. 

It always is.