How not to write a dissertation.

I learnt the hard way that printing, photocopying and writing down what look like relevant quotes isn’t enough for a dissertation. Somehow I’d managed to convince myself I was doing plenty of work by doing that… and forgot about the 10,000 words that actually needed writing about it all, rather than just being thought about. By Christmas 2010, I was well on track. I had my title, my reading list and a rough plan of how I was going to go about doing it. That though is where it all seemed to stall and go downhill rather rapidly. New year came and went. February reading week came and went. Pretty soon it’d be Easters time to come and go. Still nothing. Easter was drawing closer and still the only thing I could show for my dissertation was my title, reading list and a massive pile of notes and photocopies. With the aid of chocolate, coffee, pick ‘n’ mix, energy drink and locking myself away in the top room of the house like a hermit, I eventually managed to complete my dissertation and get it handed in. I used to hate people telling me how to work, or how not to work, but that really isn’t the way to work! I’d advise anyone doing a dissertation definitely not to do it that way.

Sorry about this being a rubbish post, but count it as a bit of background info as to why I needed (but certainly didn’t deserve) a summer of getting out and about.

Get Up Go – Askham Fell

For our final media project for the University of Cumbria myself, Lauren Dean and Ali Keech worked together to produce a series of videos to promote the various adventure sports available throughout the Lake District. This one was shot at Askham Fell, featuring Bex Tatham, filmed by Ali and myself and edit by Ali.

Hammond organs and not women.

As some of you may know, my girlfriend, Madi, lives in Brussels. As some of you may also know, I’m not Belgiums biggest fan. To me, it’s just like lentils. It’s there and people clearly like it, but I just can’t work out why. Whilst I might not like Brussels and Belgium, I cannot however say that the capital is uninteresting. I think the main reason I dislike Belgium is its lack of geographical diversity. I like mountains and rivers. Flat green spaces and concrete have never really done it for me. Socially though, it’s actually a very nice place. You can still smoke in bars (whilst I hate it around food, I quite like it with drink and music), cannabis is socially accepted, a massive range of beers, great jazz and there are no problems with drinking on the streets.

What digging reveals.

I was having a hunt through my photography hard drive and discovered quite how much slips through the net when you’re looking for photos. After several months (or longer in some cases) of not seeing a set of photos, it’s amazing how much of a different light you might view some of them in. Photos you previously hadn’t liked or had thought weren’t suitable may suddenly jump out at you, or you may find some that need that extra touch up and then they’ll be ready. Either way, I found a few panoramics that for some reason I’ve never posted on my blog so thought it was best to pop them up here.

The shot above was taken whilst Skiing in Verbier, Switzerland in 2009 when we had a stunning bluebird day.

Update on Morocco!

In case anyone was wondering whether Moroccan customs had got the better of me and I was now some big guys bit of arm candy in a Moroccan prison…there’s no need to worry! The silence is due to the impending deadline of my dissertation in a few weeks, so as soon as that’s out of the way I’ve got some more articles written about my experiences in Morocco with Mid Wales Paragliding and the wonderful bureaucrats to post.

Black Glass

I’ve always been a white water kayaker, sea kayaking never really appealed to me that much until last summer. Then the bug bit. Although there’s certainly a journey element to white water kayaking, it’s more about getting whatever feature you’re on at the time right, and the adrenaline it gives. However with sea kayaking, it’s all of those small parts put together that make the journey so special. That’s what did it for me, when I finally discovered the pleasure and satisfaction in the journey. It’s been written and said a million and ones times in a variety of different ways by various lyrical florists, but  sometimes it needs to be said simply, and at the risk of pulling the biggest cliché in adventure media, it really is about the journey and not the destination.

With the abundance of flat water (even though there is only one true lake), sooner or later it was inevitable that I’d end up in a sea kayak getting some lake touring done in the Lake District. Being one of the most beautiful places in the UK, it makes sense to get out and about to get to see all it’s natural beauty from a view point many haven’t and won’t get to, whether it’s in the mountains, on the crags or on the water. Doing it at night though….well you don’t quite get to see the place quite as well, but I’ve lived here 3 years now, I’ve seen it quite a lot and it seemed like it’d be more of a challenge at night.

Myself and two friends from uni (Luke and Laura), headed down to Ullswater layered up with thermals and armed with head torches, glow sticks and our paddling gear. After getting kitted up, we climbed in to our kayaks and launched in to the lake, breaking it’s obsidian like surface in a landscape bathed in moonlight. On such a still night, each of our paddle strokes was silent as our kayaks carved through the smooth surface with just the slightest rushing noise as the water ran along the sides of our boats. We’d launched around about the middle of the lake and were paddling down towards Pooley Bridge, some 3 and a half miles of paddling with water for a hundred or so meters either side of us and dwarfed by the dark outlines of the surrounding hills against a clear sky. Even with the glowing lights of the various properties dotted along the lakeside, the middle was a profoundly lonely yet peaceful place to be, but a place where the company of friends is very much appreciated as opposed to being there alone.

Taking a kayak out at night really isn’t a great way to see any of the sights of the Lake District, but it really is a different way to experience them and one well worth doing, especially on such a calm night.

Polar Opposites

Last time I was in Morocco I was in Tangier. Someone pulled a knife on me, around every corner someone was trying to scam you or rob you, and that is literally no exaggeration. It’d be a stretch to say I’d go back to Tangier to save my own mother. OK, well maybe I would for that, but nothing short of that. All I remember of being there is having to watch your back wherever you went, not really being able to trust many people. I think in four days, I met possibly three or four people I was able to warm to and actually liked.

When I was invited back to Morocco, I was naturally apprehensive. I know you should never judge a book by its cover, however, it’s almost human nature to do that. If you don’t have any good experiences somewhere, why should you come back with a positive outlook on the place? Now that I’m out here, I have to say I’ve had enough humble pie to even put Desperate Dans cow pies to shame. I’m ashamed and embarrassed to have held such negative views on Morocco and Moroccans.

A rather dry mouth

I wasn’t at my most comfortable, having Moroccan security officials pulling all of my possessions out of my bag in front of the whole of arrivals. Everyone starts to stare, more and more security turn up. Eventually there were five of them there! 5?! All for a camera?!

“Follow me please sir”

This really will be a hassle! I’ve never been taken away for an interview before. Let alone one with someone that can’t speak English. I’d done nothing wrong and I knew it, but there’s still something inside you that’s making you nervous, that little “what if”. What if what?! “I’ve not done anything!” I kept telling myself, but as I sat in this small dark office with someone pulling my bags apart, I felt my heart start to beat faster, my legs start to tingle and my mouth going as dry as the Sahara.

And so it begins!

Despite some very careful packing, I was still way over my weight limit for flying. Things were getting desperate. Toothbrush, gone. Toothpaste, gone. About 3 pairs of pants and socks, gone. Eventually I got my main luggage down to 25kg and my hand luggage down to 7. Even that wasn’t good enough! I mean yeah it weighed the same as a small child…but maybe the baggage handlers should have just eaten their weetabix!

The anti-guide

This isn’t a guide on how to plan, neither is it always applicable. All it is, is something that works for me and I enjoy.

I was sat having a clear out of my computer the other day when I found a folder absolutely full of different trips planned out from a trip to Greenland via the Orkneys, the Shetlands, the Faroes and Iceland, to a trip down the the Pan-America Highway starting at Prudhoe Bay all the way to Capehorn including a way through the Darian Gap between Central and South America. These weren’t just ideas of trips, but somehow I’d immaculately planned out each trip including local contacts without even realising I’d done so much.