The continuing adventures of a girl trying to achieve forty things before she hits the grand old age of forty...
Number 15: learn to rock climb properly (sort of achieved)
Running down corridors (and away from monsters) and being able to scale rock faces are key skills for any would-be adventuress and Doctor Who companion. I have climbed a few times in the past and always enjoyed the experience tremendously. Still whilst I love a good scramble, I wouldn’t call myself competent at either end of a rope. So I did some research and decided the best option was a three hour start up lesson, to remind me of the basics and get some practice in. Thanks to my generous brother’s birthday present I was able to book myself in on Saturday. As a birthday present is was also a helpful part of the process of making ‘being in my thirties’ seem more exciting!
Ok so maybe a three hour start-up lesson doesn’t quite equip me to scale the North face of the Eiger, but I think I can tick this one off as ‘sort of achieved’ today. For those who don’t know the Edinburgh Indoor Climbing Arena near Ratho is the largest indoor climbing arena in the world. Basically they put a roof on a massive quarry. Quarries of course are very appropriate training for a would-be Doctor Who companion. Throughout the seventies Who stories they served as many an arid alien landscape.
Despite being only a short drive from Edinburgh the EICA feels as though it is in the middle of the countryside. Driving past fields blanketed with low lying mist made me feel like I was definitely on my way to an adventure. My poor sense of direction being such that I struggle to navigate my way to my own kitchen I arrived at said adventure with only a few minutes to spare. I hurriedly ate a sandwich and bought some yoghurt covered banana chips as emergency rations. These I also ate.
The lesson was terrifically enjoyable. The teaching style in particular suited me; I was able to commit the basics to memory by turning the activities into handy songs and pictures. How to tie a figure of eight; make a head, give it a scarf, poke it in the eye. How to belay; ‘V’ to the knee then 1,2,3. Sorted.
The strange thing I found about climbing was that it wasn’t dangling several metres up in the air which I found most nerve-wracking. It was being at the other end of a rope and therefore responsible for someone else dangling several metres up in the air. I was the only thing between them and a nasty fall. I’m a bit of a control freak and by the end had a bit of a concentration headache (despite the sustaining banana chips) but had a wonderful time. Yes I bounced off the wall a few times and skinned my knee. Yes I’m far too competitive and over-stretched myself trying to reach for the furthest holds and climb the highest before abseiling down. By the end of three hours alternating with two other students climbing, abseiling and belaying we all felt reasonably confident. I now need to cement my initial learning into concrete ability by getting practice bouldering, working on my core strength and perhaps joining in some group activities.
It’s hard to describe what is so satisfying about scrambling spiderman-like up a rock face and looking down on the tiny people below. Fortunately I’m not afraid of heights. In addition the task of finding hand and foot holds, especially towards the end of the lesson when we were tasked with using only being able to use certain colour-coded holds, was mentally challenging and so distracted me from the potentially death defying drop below. Or at least broken leg defying. I clung with my fingers wrapped around lumps, handles and edges, hopping my toes from ledge to bump to shelf. I tried my best to climb sideways to the rock. Apparently putting your hip to the wall and not sticking your rear out takes some of the weight from your arms and legs. Easy for the instructor to say; my sturdy hips and rear end don’t always obey instruction! Certainly by the end of it I was pleasantly tired and a post climb chocolate bar with cuppa was most welcome. All good adventures finish with a cup of tea and chocolate bar.
So in conclusion; I have a great feeling of achievement and had great fun. Just a bit more practice and I’ll be ready to outwit any villain with a daring scramble up an overhanging cliff face.
Number 23: See David Bowie live (progressing?)
I’m not actually sure whether it’s still possible to achieve this one. Bowie is my favourite pop star ever. When I was growing up I listened to music ‘absorbed’ from the tastes of those around me. Thus (unfortunately) Stock Aiken and Waterman’s various assaults on the charts filled my tape collection; Kylie, Jason and Bananarama. From my parents there were the Beatles, Queen and Blondie. From my brother, there was the Cure and Adam Ant. David Bowie was the first artist I liked of my own accord. Indeed many of those I knew didn’t like his music at all. Somehow this defined my own choices and personality. I liked his theatrical style, costumes and make-up and found his lyrics intelligent and witty. Of course I’m also a big fan of aliens and liked the fact many of his songs are about spacemen.
I have quite a substantial back catalogue. My favourite albums include ‘Low’ from the Berlin trilogy and ‘Hunky Dory’, but by far my favourite song is ‘Heroes’. In recent years I have started to think of it as my theme tune. Whenever I feel down or tired that song uplifts me. I’ve heard it in many situations and places all over the world and it has always seemed to be playing when I’ve needed a real boost.
Should seeing him live not be possible I suppose meeting him or getting a signature might count. I had a brief panic when internet searches suggested he was doing a farewell tour this summer (2012). Nothing has been confirmed.
In the meantime my friend Julia and I decided the nearest thing would be to attend a Bowie tribute band who were playing in Edinburgh. It was at least halfway there.
The band made a great effort and in fairness sounded terrific. They played all the favourites, focusing mainly on the Ziggy Stardust years and I enjoyed singing along. However halfway there was an accurate description; whilst the band may have sounded like Bowie, the lead singer certainly didn’t look like him. (In fairness not many men do.) I don’t know what I expected but there is something slightly disappointing about a podgy faced, middle aged Scotsman in a ginger Ziggy wig, make-up and skinny coloured jeans. He sang well, but I did have to close my eyes so as not to ruin the illusion.
Julia and I were the youngest people in the audience by about a decade, but it was a great night out. So if a farewell tour isn’t possible before I hit the big 40, at least we’ve managed the nearest thing Edinburgh has to offer.
