Sitting in the comfortable and familiar surroundings of Tim and Lou’s house situated in Nant Peris, a small village at the base of the Llanberis Pass, (Border Collies barking, old men - hunched, wearing flat-caps that shade drooping cigarettes projecting from cracked, creased and chiselled features gently shuffling along the pavement. Sheep trot, following the white lines in the middle of the road and the twang of the congregation floats from the Chapel on Sunday morning) and placing a few of the final Canadian pics up on the blog two weeks after my return makes me reflect…

It’s cold, you want warm. Its warm, you want cold. Sitting in a tent in the Himalayas, you talk about Scotland. Sitting in the rain in Scotland, you want Canada. Freezing you’re arse on a ledge in the Alps you dream of the warm rock of Arapalies.   

The sun is shining through the large windows - leaves, grass and lichen glow on the hill opposite. Vibrancy, life and a feeling of hopefulness fill the faces of people tired with the wet winter gloom. Swallows flit, cutting the warm air with sickle-sharp wings. My winter was long and every year, like a cow released from a shed in spring, I bounce around with untold energy and excitement at the thought of caressing warm rock.

Climbing gives me direction and motivation, it makes me appreciate the change in the seasons, it makes me push myself and use the time I have to the best, climbing makes me aware…

Taking part in all aspects of climbing can sometimes be frustrating…Strong fingers, weak fingers, stamina, no stamina, big legs, pale skin, warm-cold-hungry-full…

Well I now have soar finger tips, its warm and it’s great…

Pics of Monsieur Hulot, Riptide and some short sporty stuff in the photo section...