Monday, 30 April 2012

Up a height in Peru


There is so much to say I really wasnt sure where to start with this! In summary, I have been trekking in Peru, suffered from high altitude sickness, camped in remote isolated mountains in the Andes, tasted fruit and veg I'd never even heard of before, nearly got run over by Llamas, had hairy scary bus rides on roads closed due to landslides, experienced the several thousand steps on the old Inca trail, reached Machu Picchu, wondered at the magical mysteriousness of it all, tasted the best chocolate in the world, and celebrated with too many Pisco sours (*takes deep breath*)! 
I'm going to be writing more detail about different aspects of the experience over the next week or so, as theres too much to put in one post, but here are some of my highlights.   

It was definitely a once in a lifetime experience - though some things, like being in hospital on the first night due to altitude sickness - I will be happy to never repeat! We climbed to heights of over 4,500 metres and I really felt the effects of the altitude on the three days we were trekking at that kind of level. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before, you are forced to walk much more slowly than a normal pace (frustrating for someone like me who likes to march onwards!) and even then have to stop every few minutes. 'Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth' become one of our medically approved mantras!

It was amazing trekking through these isolated, quite barren but breathtakingly beautiful mountains and wed often see a spot of bright red on the horizon. As it got closer we would see it was a person dressed in the colourful traditional clothes, often women and children, whod be walking along seeming to appear out of thin air and be heading absolutely nowhere. Women would always be carrying something on their back - firewood, fruit, vegetables or cloth to sell, or often a child. They would scuttle past us half our size and twice as fast.
 
Even in these most remote, hostile areas there is life, unchanged for probably centuries, small patches where crops or vegetables are grown, everything maintained by hand, stone built thatched roofed houses with families of three generations all crammed into one room, a fire in the middle for cooking and heating - no chimney - the smoke filling and bellowing out of the house. The local mountain people we met mostly don't even speak Spanish, they speak their traditional language of Quechua. We were on a little used trail and visitors are rare - so goodness knows what they must have thought of us with all our equipment, huffing and puffing up their mountains. They were quiet, shy, very dignified people. At one point a few of us had fallen behind (wed had a toilet stop with no bushes or rocks to go behind you just had to wait for others to get past then squat!) and had even lost sight of the guide in front of us. A little lady appeared and walked with us, at a slight distance and without saying anything, just giving an occasional smile. She would wait until we were all safely across a boggy bit or a stream then carry on walking with us. She accompanied us for miles and I am sure she was making sure we were all right and safe until we caught up with the rest of the group. When we did she just disappeared.

Camping was not my favourite thing (never has been, never will be), everything got damp and the sun disappeared very suddenly so it became very cold very quickly. But the guides and crew we had, all local men, looked after us wonderfully well. They would wake us up with a cup of tea and bowl of water, with a cooked breakfast on the go which made us forgive them for the 5am starts. When we set off for the days trek, the crew would stay behind, take everything down, clear away, then set off, overtake us and by the time we got to the lunch stop or that evening's camp they'd have all our tents up, the dining tent set up, toilets dug, and would be cooking up a meal and greet us with tea and cake. We were amazingly well fed, with three cooks rustling up cooked breakfasts, lunches and always a three course dinner. They catered for two vegetarians, one gluten free diet and someone who couldn't eat onions! Our local guides Tony and Paco who were with us all week took great care of us, they were also so passionate and informative about the area, and incredibly good humoured - essential for them to survive a week with a group of 15 females!

My favourite trek day was the fourth day when we were due to reach Machu Picchu itself. We had come down from the very high levels we'd been at and joined the old Inca Trail. This is literally a stone path clinging to the side of the mountains, so you always have a sheer drop at one side of you. But as it was much lower altitude I could breathe! Instead of quite barren mountains with no insects or birds, they were green, lush and rich with plants, flowers and trees. We saw huge butterflies, poisonous millipedes, humming birds and wandering llamas. After a day of walking through spectacular waterfalls, Inca ruins and the humid jungle feel on this part of the trek we finally passed through the sun gate and got our first sight of Machu Picchu. Well - we would have if it hadn't been covered by clouds! The clouds made it all the more mystical and when they did go there is was - the classic sight of the ancient city that you see on all of the pictures and programmes. It isn't until we walked down towards it I really become aware of the size and complexity of the ruins - which actually are in an unfeasibly good state.

We celebrated that night in a colourful lively restaurant in Aguas Calientes, the town near to Machu Picchu. After several days of not being very hungry (a positive of high altitude) we tucked in like we'd never seen food before - I had the most marvellous melon starter - a whole melon scooped out into balls and the inside filled with an Andean liquer (I don't know what - only that it was red and very very delicious!). I also had the best beer ever - freezing cold liquid gold - just what the doctor ordered (or should've done) after the week we'd had.  

The day after, our final full day, our trekking was over and we were just tourists. We went back to Machu Picchu and Paco who used to work at the site led us round on a really informative tour. We were then taken to lunch, grabbed a bit of shopping in the markets, and had a train and bus ride back to Cusco.

Our final night was party night in Cusco at a local restaurant - with the meat eaters trying the traditional dish of guinea pig (verdicts included: salty/ gamey/ like nothing else ever tasted/ yuck). After several Pisco sours and bottles of celebratory wine we took over the restaurant and ended up dancing until the early hours.

The next day we had a few hours to spend in Cusco before setting off for the long long journey home. Slightly worse for wear, I managed to make it to the Chocolate Museum which had been on my must do list for ages. This is the most gorgeous smelling museum I have ever been to, the scent wafted through the air on the approach to it, and this is where you can get the best chocolate I (and others) have ever tasted. So our final last hour was spent chilling (the first opportunity we'd had!) in the sunshine with coffee and chocolates on a colonial style balcony watching the world go by in the main square below.

This was a much anticipated experience, and a real adventure into the unknown - it's like nothing I've ever done before. I booked it a year ago, spent 12 months fundraising, faced last minute plane cancellations and then spent the first night ill in hospital in Cusco wondering if I was actually going to be given the ok to do the trek. But it was all worth it. For me personally it's been a real adventure and achievement, I’ve got some amazing memories and made some friends for life. And of course what got me into this in the first place, is that the charity and other women facing breast cancer will benefit. Between us our Peru posse raised over £50,000 for Breast Cancer Care.

Friday, 13 April 2012

Here today...

Gone tomorrow... Or strictly speaking I'll be gone later today as its now past midnight. After a year of planning, plotting, fundraising, tomorrow I'm setting off for Peru to trek up Machu Pichhu in support of Breast Cancer Care.
As ever the organised, sorted, well planned out couple of weeks beforehand id dreamt of having turned out to be frantic, chaotic, ridiculously busy ones. And as ever writing including this blog, my WIP that I'd started to actually get 'in progress' and totting up and reporting back on my result for the 100k words in 100 days challenge are the kind of things that fell off the list. But will all be here for me to do when I get back!

I am a little bit too excited to sleep and have a real mix of anticipation and trepidation about the next ten days ahead. So much is unknown and hard to imagine - how I'll cope with the altitude and sleeping in a tent in freezing temperatures, how we'll all get on as a group of strangers being together 24 hours a day, how will I feel having done it... But it is the opportunity of a lifetime and I'm so glad I'm doing it (I'll remind myself of this when I have the squirts halfway up a mountain with no bathroom for a 4 day radius..)!

So a temporary adieu from moi - though if I can work out how I may try to post an update while en trek... Watch this space!

Sunday, 1 April 2012

On my doorstep


Whenever I go anywhere new, on holidays, short breaks or visits to other parts of the country or world I always do my research, find places I want to go, have a list of things to do, get to know a bit about the place. 
This year I am definitely going to do more of that in my own home county.

I hate the word 'staycation' and I am a sun lover which is often the one thing you don't get right up north, but have vowed I will go out and about much more this year much closer to home. 
I am lucky enough to live in a beautiful part of the world, with oodles of history, amazing countryside, fabulous beaches and gorgeous places to go. 
So now is the time to start making more of this I've decided - and this week I took advantage of the sunny weather.

All this just over half an hour's drive up the road from where I live. Sometimes you forget what's right under your nose.

Thursday, 29 March 2012

It's all about me!

The last time I played tag was, ooh, probably about 1979 when I was intent on tagging Kelvin, my then latest playground crush. But thanks to Linda - I have been virtually tagged for the first time, I am an 'IT' and it's all about me it seems!

I have to tell you ten things about me, which presumably you won't already know, so here goes:
1. I can't stand feet (excuse the pun!) mine or anyone else's - but I do love being barefoot
2. I tend to say I'm 5ft 5" - should anyone actually ask - when really I'm 5ft 4" and a bit
3. I consider myself sociable but do enjoy a bit of solitude and am very happy in my own company
4. I have two tattoos and my bellybutton pierced
5. I hate shopping for clothes
6. Every time I go to see a play/ film/ band play I tell myself I must do this more often
7. Although I regularly still insist I'm a night owl and could stay up all night (honest!) I love going to bed - and find I quite like getting up early these days
8. I always make my To Do list far too long
9. I am forever buying more books despite having loads at home I have yet to read
10. I actually found writing this list trickier than I thought it would be!

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

The sun will come out...


I love variety in a day, when I get to do different things. I had a day like that last week but it also ended up exactly like the weather forecast for the day - starting off sunny, with a bit of cloud coming over, followed by more sunshine.

First thing I went to a breakfast event with ex government communications chief Alistair Campbell and ex local MP Chris Mullen. Perhaps not everyone’s cup of tea and croissant, but I've worked in local and national government and get inexplicably excited about politics, so it was definitely for me. The pair have both written fascinating diaries and are great storytellers. It was also the opportunity to catch up over coffee with friends I haven’t seen for a while who are equally oddly into this kind of thing!

Following that lively start it was then off to a hospital appointment. As part of the treatment for breast cancer, to help prevent a recurrence I was prescribed a tablet called Tamoxifen. I suffered very badly from side effects though so am due to have a hysterectomy – the only alternative option I was given. An empathetic, helpful, amicable gynaecologist helped me come to that decision – and this appointment was once last chance to ask him questions before the operation. This time though Mr S wasn’t available. A young female introduced herself as a member of his team, she may well have told me her name but I can’t recall it. I will call her Ms X.

I am trying to convince myself that I am making a positive choice (I am doing it of course for very good reasons) and trying not to feel as unhappy as I do about having to have another operation (though realistically it’s not the kind of thing I’m ever going to be jumping with joy about).

After Ms X apologised for my 40 minute wait (it’s why it’s called a waiting room of course) she asked me if I had any questions. I thought that I imagined that her eyebrows raised when I said yes then pulled out my notebook. Maybe not.
Here is an abridged version of our conversation.

Me: ‘Mr S said it’s keyhole surgery which I should be able to get over in a couple of weeks, so that’s fine. He did warn that occasionally, once on the operating table, it ends up not being able to be done by keyhole but turns into the old fashioned major op. I don’t want that. I don’t to wake up and find I’ve been cut from one side to the other and will take months rather than weeks to recover. If it can’t be done by keyhole then I don’t want it done.’
Ms X: ‘So if something goes wrong and you might die – and to save your life we have to cut you open, are you saying you don’t want us to do that?’
Me: ‘No what I am saying is I’m prepared and have agreed to have keyhole surgery not anything else if there’s a choice. Obviously if I’m dying on the operating table and you have to do something to save my life I expect you to do it. I would rather not die.’
(I guessed it was going to go downhill from here...)

Me: ‘I was also told I’d be in and out the same day, so again that’s what I’m expecting. Unless of course anything’s gone horribly wrong.’
(Eyebrows were definitely raised at this point, I didn’t imagine it!)
Ms X: ‘Well we do usually keep people in overnight.’
Me: ‘That is not what Mr S said. Unless there is anything wrong I want to be home the same day. Anyway, I’m a rotten patient and you'll want rid of me as soon as possible.’
(My attempt to get some humour into the conversation fell flat.)

Me: ‘I had a really awful time on Tamoxifen, and I’m dreading if I get menopausal effects after this they may make me feel as bad. I know everyone’s different and no one can tell me exactly what will happen – but is there anything I can do to help myself? Are there any supplements or things I can do to relieve or avoid symptoms? The internet is full of all sorts of information, but is there any factual, reliable information or websites you’d recommend I look at?’
(At this point there was a definite sigh that joined the raising eyebrows.)

Ms X ‘We can give you HRT’
Me ‘I had an oestrogen positive cancer, I can’t take HRT.’
(So much for my assumption she’d actually be taking any notice of what’s in my file.)

Ms X ‘Well no, then there isn’t anything. Some people might swear by this or that but there’s nothing I can recommend. You can try whatever you want, if you want to spend money and time on things that haven’t been proven to work.’

At this point I gave up.  I checked that Mr S would be the one doing the operation and signed the consent forms (after suitable warning of all the horrendous things that can happen of course).

Ms X waved me off with a ‘we’ll see you on 4th May then’. My response of ‘Yes but I can’t say I’m looking forward to it,’ made me sound like a negative old bag, which is probably exactly what she thought I was. I left disappointed and dissatisfied.

That sunshine had definitely disappeared behind a big grey cloud.

I am a huge supporter of the NHS. I have worked in it and I have been a patient in it. There are many wonderful things about it and I will always be eternally glad and grateful that it’s there (for the moment… but I won’t get side-tracked into politics!) – but so often it’s down to individuals and who you see, talk to, are treated by has a huge impact on whether you have a good or bad experience. I had just had a consultation with a professional who contradicted the consultant, obviously hadn’t read my file, recommended something not just inappropriate but dangerous, and didn’t seem willing, able or interested in helping me help myself.

But thankfully the day wasn’t over yet. After this I headed to one of my favourite local towns to a talk Stephanie Butland was giving at the library. Steph, who has a book published named after her blog Bah to Cancer, is one of those people who just oozes loveliness and positivity. I perked up as soon as she gave me a welcoming smile. After a good chat, and a cup of tea and biscuit, on my way home I then called into my favourite deli and the day was rounded off with a delicious dinner

So, after the grey middle bit, the day ended bright, light and sunny, as it had started. No matter how cloudy and grey it gets – the sun does always come out again!



Sunday, 18 March 2012

On turning into my mother...

My mother and I are agreed on one thing - we are very different. She says this with eyes rolled and a bit of a sigh, I say it with a tone of slightly defensive relief.
But it seems to be true that no matter how different I am, or like to feel I am, from my mum I do catch myself with increasing regularity thinking I may actually be getting more like her.

The most obvious sign really, as my son loves to point out, is when I 'sound just like grandma'. I have for several years now found myself repeating familiar phrases and realising where they've come from.

Some of them are in this list of phrases - and some of them do in fact have long term effects - to this day I really do have to make sure my underwear is clean and acceptable 'just in case'...

Happy Mother's Day to all you mums, people with mums, and those remembering their mums. And make sure you're wearing clean pants before you go out, ok?

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Buns, runs and fun!

A year after I first signed up and kicked off full of excitement, trepidation and slight terror I have finally reached my fundraising target for my charity challenge. In just over four weeks time I'm heading off to trek the Inca trail up Machu Picchu - but I'd committed to first raise at least £3,000 for Breast Cancer Care.

Thanks to a last blast I've actually raised over £3,500 - and have the promise of a bit more coming in so hopefully the final total will be nearer to £4,000. The more the better as every penny counts and the demand for BCC's services is, sadly, increasing.

I feel rather chuffed and more than a bit relieved to get the money in, it's the first time I've been involved in fund raising like this and there have been peaks and troughs - good practice for trekking up a mountain! I have learned lots, like how much I hate asking people for money (even for a good cause). Instead I felt I should 'earn' it - my parents really did drum a working ethos into me - which has led to me needing to 'do' things to get the money in rather than just rely on begging emails to friends and family.
My fundraising fun has included lots and lots of buns - or cupcakes, I think that means you can charge more for them - I have become quite the bun baking queen. As well as cake stalls galore it has also involved a comedy night, clothes swishing parties, raffles, sponsored runs and collection boxes perched in kindly local shops.

So, though no expert, here are my top tips for anyone embarking on, or just thinking about, a similar charity venture:
  • Expected the unexpected - I have found that the things I thought may bring in lots didn't, but other things surprised me with the amount raised. People are also full of surprises, I have had help from unexpected quarters and donations from complete strangers - and absolutely none from some others I expected to be supportive.
  • Estimate how much time it all might take - then triple it. It all takes time - lots of, even with others helping out. Baking, organising events, begging raffle prizes, sorting tickets, even just counting out and banking the pennies from collection boxes. It is all very very time consuming.
  • It's nice to be nice - I have met some lovely people and had some fab support and fun, people have been generous whether donating prizes for raffles or giving up their own time. I have kept in touch with regular emails and updates to everyone who's helped, and sent thank you gifts and cards to those who really have been super supporters.
  • Beware fundraising fatigue - there were the low times when I lost my mojo and, quite frankly, had enough on my plate with other things going on in my life. Other people also get fundraising fatigue, just a look at twitter or among your own social circles will show you how many people are doing sterling things for charity and asking for support. Given the current climate it's not an easy task!
  • You'll get there in the end! At times I did wonder - but thanks to a last big push, and the perfect timing of a friend getting a job managing a coffee shop where she sold a load of cupcakes for me - I more than met my target. And I didn't ever have to resort to my last resort - which was doing the dreaded car boot sale!

I always thought the fundraising was going to be a hard part of this challenge - now that's done I can look forward to focusing on the trek. This is the part I thought would be the fun though challenging bit - but the reality is just creeping in... sleeping in a tent in freezing temperatures, getting altitude sickness, no toilets or showers for several days... Hmm maybe the fundraising was the easy bit after all!

More about my charity challenge here