This macrame-like process was so meticulously absorbing that I didn’t realise how far I’d ascended.īy the time I looked down, I was 30ft high. I repeated this action three times, before making another loop. The instructor showed me the ropes, literally, and, following his lead, I tied a knot, inserted my foot in the loop, then hauled myself upward. And so, determined to fulfil my mission to stay young, I prepared to conquer the canopy. I clearly needed to blow away the cranial cobwebs, otherwise I’d only be fit for remedial scrabble. “For me the firma the ground the lessa the terra.”īut then I remembered my pathetic attempt at the cryptic crossword that morning. “Groundless, exactly! I like terra firma,” I explained, anxiously. My face must have resembled Edvard Munch’s The Scream, because my instructor immediately tried to convince me that my fear of heights was groundless. I glanced upwards towards the towering treetops.Ībseiling ropes dangled down from the far-off canopy – ropes I was expected to scale. Was it wrong to ogle my instructor in this way? Could I be accused of “reverse sexism”? I passed that question on to my loins, which stirred, then answered loudly, “Hell, no!” “So, now you’re strapped in, let’s get you up and away,” enthused the handsome arboriculturist whose manly thighs were severely testing the limits of his Lycra. Like most middle-aged women, while I may feel like a 30-year-old, unfortunately there’s rarely one within reach. Or to simply say, “I have no idea how old you are, but you certainly don’t look it.” But when it comes to staying young, scientists agree that the most effective technique is to try new things, master fresh skills and get out of your comfort zone… Hence my action-packed staycation on the Isle of Wight with an itinerary of tree climbing, kayaking, deep sea fishing and horse riding. The best way to tell a woman’s age, by the way, is not to. It’s a sad truth that just when you’ve learned to make the most of your life, most of your life is gone.
It’s all part of my Carpe the Hell Out of Diem credo.
No, I wasn’t getting some kinky thrills at a whipped cream bondage orgy, but learning to abseil up a 70ft-high, 300-year-old oak tree on the Isle of Wight. “Um…” was about all I could manage to utter in reply. ‘Do you swing and do you mind rope burns?” the chiselled, muscular young man asked, strapping me into a harness and tightening it around a part of my anatomy normally associated with childbirth. 'I abseiled back to earth an hour later feeling a huge sense of achievement. Lockdown fatigue? To put the spring back in your step, a weekend of tree climbing, kayaking and horse riding is just the ticket 24 November 2020 Key to eternal youth? Tree climbing, fishing – and ogling
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