She Called This Idyllic

Because We Are All Human

Ian Spires — Sun, 05 Apr 2026 15:46:10 +0000

“Yes,” she said, “I would love to do that”

and then she forgot

because sometimes she does

and now I can’t stop thinking about

the thing that she forgot.

Old Men Like Me

Ian Spires — Mon, 16 Feb 2026 09:05:36 +0000

“We need old men like you to leave your jobs, just retire, before the youngsters can find work these days.”

“It's like a one out, one in sort of thing really.”

“At least, that's how it should be.”

And I wondered how I should feel, being called an old man by someone that appeared twenty years my senior.

And whether she had a point.

Even If At Times It May Not Always Feel That Way

Ian Spires — Wed, 24 Dec 2025 10:15:00 +0000

Christmas Eve has become my day in the year for reflection.

A moment to pause and consider the year almost gone. A day that somehow seems more relevant for me than the new year.

Interestingly, and maybe also a little sadly, such reflection over recent years has frequently been of the challenging kind.

Moving through lock down and isolation to frustration and, at times, what felt like an absence of kindness and empathy.

And, more recently, such moments have also had to process loss and grief.

Looking back over my posts on this day in previous years I have also noted that sometimes it has felt more appropriate to simply say nothing rather than dwell on anything too difficult. Perhaps a decision made through safety or self preservation rather than anything else.

Of course, it's easy to look back and remind yourself of things that went wrong. Things that we maybe regret or wish had never happened. We all do this on a regular basis. Our minds are programmed to identify and focus more on negative feelings and threats rather than positive moments and emotions.

We simply can't help ourselves.

So this year, rather than dwelling on situations that have challenged my resilience, and there have been and continue to be many, it feels right that I should find reason to put my focus elsewhere.

So for balance, and perhaps also as a reminder for myself and anyone else reading this post, I intend to concentrate on the things that really matter.

Thankfully, my loved ones and I are alive and well, with sufficient food and water to sustain us, a roof over our heads and with lives that the majority of people in the world would envy,

We are mostly surrounded by love and kindness and genuine support, even if at times it may not always feel that way.

We also have the time and hopefully the awareness and inclination each morning when we wake up to notice and appreciate the beautiful world that we live in.

And for that, despite all of the challenges that we have had to face this year, we should be genuinely grateful.

Blurred Edges Of Reality

Ian Spires — Wed, 17 Dec 2025 16:32:48 +0000

My life, I have long since decided, is no different to others.

I am the sum of my upbringing and my lived experiences, all of which can, at best, be considered fickle and at worst, a weird amalgamation of fantasy, desire and avoidance.

With a few shame-faced lies thrown in for good measure.

But do we really remember as much of our past as we think and has what we do remember really shaped us that much?

The blurred edges of our recalled reality merge, frequently, with our self justification. We constantly redefine our words and intentions. We decide how we want others to see us and how we want history to judge us.

And they shape us, these things that might have happened. The stories we repeat and twist and embellish, they grow old and become real and stick there, putting down roots and feeding our minds.

I pause, sometimes, to consciously share them with myself, when and if the time feels right.

And when my mind finds itself on that deliciously unhealthy downward spiral, towards where it has decided it needs to be, then I embrace such thoughts with relish and knowledge, as if they are stories that I brought to life.

And at such times I consider myself weak, unlovable, always invisible and frequently influenced by what may be reality but also, possibly, creations of my own.

Perhaps these things really happened.

But perhaps they didn't, at least not in the way that I remember them.

Maybe my memories have managed to create a life of their own.

In which case, I have to ask myself, what was it that actually shaped me?

The Path To Truth And Validity

Ian Spires — Thu, 20 Nov 2025 10:52:29 +0000

So what do you believe in, I hear you ask?

What should anyone believe in these days? It's almost impossible to say at times

If we keep things simple then maybe we stand a chance. A chance to believe in something worthwhile and genuine.

So is simplicity the path to truth and validity? A way to sidetrack the noise and everything fake?

Perhaps.

But if so, well, right now I think I know exactly what I want to believe in.

I want to believe in grey skies.

Grey skies and heavy, moody, atmospheric landscapes.

I choose to believe in empty roads and quiet, weekday escapes and delicious low-key adventures.

And sometimes, when the wind is blowing at its fiercest and the waves are meeting the stones on the beach with that full-on exhilarating aggression that they sometimes have, I want to believe in them as well.

The Utter Randomness Of Things

Ian Spires — Fri, 24 Oct 2025 12:18:36 +0000

“It's all about me.”

That's how most of us live our lives if we are being honest with ourselves.

And all of those times that we look at others and consider them selfish, well, there is likely to be an element of truth in such a judgement.

We should probably remember this more often.

Because most of us act as if the world really does revolve around us. We have that thing called ego to blame for it. And even if we know that we shouldn't, we can't help but want to believe in fate and things happening for a reason. Patterns and purpose in life feel good.

And we all think that we are more important than we actually are. That job, the house and car, yes, of course we earned them and deserve them.

Reality is often hard to take, I think.

The reality that our lives are actually, mostly shaped by chance. Chance and luck. Of course, there is the luck of birth, the luck that allows some a life of privilege and others very little. But there is also random luck, be it good luck or bad, that dictates all of our lives.

It may be a sliding door moment to some, the choice between left or right, that allows someone, you or I, to gain or to lose.

To eat or be hungry.

To live or to die.

So when we find ourselves surrounded by selfish people, as we all do at times, and feel hurt or rejected or just simply unloved by their words and actions, then what we are feeling is probably true.

They probably are selfish.

They probably are not thinking of me or doing the right thing by you.

Because they are human and we are all varying degrees of the same thing. Every single one of us is looking for patterns in life and trying to justify our own existence.

Yet ultimately all, whether we like it or not, are controlled by the utter randomness of things.

Wherryman's Way Walk - Stage Four - Directions Are Remarkably Easy

Ian Spires — Thu, 11 Sep 2025 21:18:37 +0000

So we reach the final stage of our relatively short but very enjoyable walk. Whilst we actually did the stages in a bit of a mixed order (check the dates) this final stage of the Wherryman's Way walk actually did feel like an ending, even though we actually still had an earlier stage left to complete.

Maybe the travel just to get to the start helped that feeling. Despite setting out rather early for this stage, once we had completed the drive, caught the bus and then the train to Reedham it was actually mid morning before we were able to officially begin the days walk.

We were lucky to have another beautiful day and in some ways it was maybe a little too hot at times, especially as we were without shade for much of the way.

Once we had navigated the walk along Reedham Staithe and up onto the river flood defences it was a very simple walk into Great Yarmouth. In fact, we didn't vary from the grassy track until the final few steps.

As the guidebook stated, “directions are remarkably easy.”

Which meant that I actually got to put away the book for most of the walk, a rare treat!

In fact, once we left the swing railway bridge behind us in Reedham and navigated a couple of lanes it really was straightforward.

A river side path to Seven Mile Farm, Polkeys Mill, Cadges Mill and Berney Arms Mill.

All beautiful alongside a very quiet and peaceful river with just a few passing boats.

The fascination for me on this stage was actually at the Berney Arms, another derelict pub. We stopped here for lunch and I took the time to do a little research about this rather strange place. A pub on the river, closed since 2015, completely inaccessible by road, that used to get its trade from passing river traffic and, rather strangely, a request stop on the local railway line, a yomp away over surrounding fields.

With very few scheduled rail services, it is no wonder that the pub closed and it is also no great surprise to find out that the local stop, named after the pub, was the least used station in Britain in 2019.

We found ourselves flagging just a little at this stage and took the very sensible step of chatting to the owner of a boat, moored at Berney Arms for some fishing, and begging a top up of our water bottles.

Thankfully he was kind enough to oblige.

Continuing on our way we watched the clouds slowly roll over and, thankfully, bring the temperature down a little before passing Burgh Castle on the opposing side of the river and arriving, eventually, at the RSPB Breydon Water site just outside of our destination. I think it's fair to say that this large wet land area looked atmospheric in the gathering gloom despite the neighbouring railway sidings.

We did spend a few moments tracking a few birds of prey over the reserve but otherwise the area seemed to be largely quiet.

The final stage of the walk was sadly underwhelming, under a built up road and bridge and onto a footpath around the supermarket and McDonalds. Even the station was unimpressive.

But this ending should not overshadow what was a glorious day and walk.

So we now have a big tick against the Wherryman's Way.

Wherryman’s Way - done it!

And while some of the instructions may have been a little confusing at times and some of the distances maybe slightly less than accurate, well, it was still a wonderful way to explore the Norfolk countryside and enjoy some beautiful and peaceful moments.

Stage 4 – Reedham to Great Yarmouth

Date of walk - 26th August 2025

Distance walked - 11.9 miles / 19.04 km

Floors climbed (using Apple Health app.) - 6 floors

Final Totals – 42.7 miles / 68.32 km / 15 floors

Wherryman's Way Walk - Stage Three - Ripening Blackberries In The Hedgerows

Ian Spires — Thu, 11 Sep 2025 20:34:00 +0000

Welcome to the short stage in the middle.

After a couple of longish stages this felt like a quiet afternoon stroll in the sunshine.

Once again the guidebook was a little vague and it took us some time to find the start of the path by the Holy Trinity Church in Loddon. But like anything, when you realise where you are going wrong it suddenly becomes easy and we walked through the churchyard and onto a very clear footpath after just a few minutes head scratching.

We took our time looking at some beautiful large properties along this path (how can people afford such wonderful homes?) and found our first delightfully empty country lane. In fact, the majority of this stage was along such quiet lanes and it made for a lovely, peaceful walk without the constant looking at where we put our feet of previous stages.

Again the route used one or two winding footpaths between and around houses, this time in the middle of nowhere, with an occasional detour across a field or over a river.

We walked through a gloriously overgrown path in our approach to Heckingham Church and this seemingly redundant church and grave yard seemed to reflect our approach. Clearly with unloved and neglected grounds, this Norman church with traditional round tower was beautiful in the late morning sunshine. As is often the case, it raised that old question as to why such a church would be built in what is clearly a remote area.

We continued walking along deserted lanes, having the place almost to ourselves with very few cars and people around and, dare I say it, it felt almost idyllic. Big Norfolk skies and fields full of maize almost ready for harvesting provided an evocative atmosphere for our gentle walk, as did the numerous stops for ripening blackberries in the hedgerows.

We rediscovered the River Yare after a few miles along the lanes, fascinatingly in an elevated position above the road, and after passing an attractive old windmill soon found our way down to the Reedham ferry.

This ferry, the only working chain ferry in East Anglia, has been in use in its current format since 1984 and can take two cars at a time plus cyclists and foot passengers. Before that it was winched by horse and hand and can be traced back to the 1770's when the licensee of the local pub also had a licence to run a ferry boat.

You could feel the change of pace here as everything, from people to cars, had to wait patiently for the ferry to do its slow, repetitive trips from one bank to the other.

Once across, and we discovered too late that we could have saved ourselves 50p by saying we were visiting the pub on the other bank, we took the very pleasant path on top of the flood banks beside the river. Pausing to admire an old windmill now converted into accommodation and a bird of prey hovering above the reed beds, we walked into Reedham and the end of this stage of the walk.

A (very) late breakfast outside a nice cafe in the sunshine on the river side and then a stroll up to the railway station for a train back into Norwich wrapped up a pleasantly undemanding couple of hours. Once again it felt as if the distances in the guidebook were out and we happily added the additional mile or so from the train station to bus station in Norwich before finding our way back to the car in Loddon.

Stage 3 – Loddon to Reedham

Date of walk - 24th August 2025

Distance walked - 7.1 miles / 11.36 km

Floors climbed (using Apple Health app.) - 3 floors

Number of times lost - 1

Ongoing Totals – 30.8 miles / 49.28 km / 9 floors

Wherryman's Way Walk - Stage Two - Quite A Lot Of Cows

Ian Spires — Tue, 09 Sep 2025 10:05:42 +0000

So stage one worked its magic and we turned up for stage two on a lovely late summer morning.

We knew that this stage might be quite varied and we had this confirmed in the first couple of miles. We were dropped off by the taxi driver at Rockland St. Mary Staithe, a beautiful quiet location across the road from a closed down pub (sadly a regular thing on this and later stages) and we started the day walking along the edge of Rockland Broad. The peaceful landscape lead us around to the River Yare where things started to change. We moved from a firm surface to a rough, grass track along the river defences and the going became tougher. Ferns, reeds and nettles began encroaching onto the path and at times it was very slow going.

Bundu bashing at its British finest.

The track moved away from the river at yet another derelict pub and we headed back into some delightful country lanes. We passed through some fascinating little places where rather rough working farms sat alongside some very expensive looking homes. A very impressive building, apparently used as a wedding venue, sat along side the remains of Langley Abbey, dating back to 1195. Sadly we couldn't see much from the road as it is a private property but photographs in the guidebook looked beautiful.

A frustrating way to see something historic from the other side of a hedgerow. Best not get me started again on private landowners and historic and beautiful locations.

We headed back to the river after a while and passed a number of moorings with a variety of boats and plenty of fishermen. The path took us back onto a grass track on top of the river flood defences and then came the fun, We found that the path went through a field full of cows.

Quite a lot of cows in fact. Having been chased by cows in the past (which ended up with me running for safety with a young child under each arm) we took the decision to turn back and find a find an alternative route.

Which was not as easy as we thought.

As a result we found ourselves back on more country lanes rather than the prescribed river path. These lanes were very quiet and enjoyable to walk along in the pleasant sunshine. We grabbed a couple of pears from a box in front of a cottage, left out for travelers, and ended up scrumping from an apple tree hanging over the road. We spent an hour or two in a mood evocative of days gone by and lost ourselves in little in a slow, leisurely pace.

We decided to stop for lunch in Hardley, a sleepy little hamlet, and sat on a grass bank outside a few houses. Part way through our sandwiches we were told by a friendly and rather amused resident that there was a bench no more than about 10 paces along the road from where we were sitting. We laughed, thanked her and moved to the way more comfortable location to finish our lunch.

We rejoined the official path just outside Chedgrave where we walked along the entrance drive to Chedgrave Common Farm to meet the river Chet. Whilst we missed some of the path through our own cow-based decision making it turned out that a significant part of this section had been closed for a number of years due to damaged and broken bridges.

The river was beautiful and very peaceful here and we paused to take it all in before the final stretch through Chedgrave and into Loddon. Passing the timber clad Loddon watermill and Loddon Staithe, we ended up at Church Plain, outside the Holy Trinity Church, where the taxi driver had picked us up a few hours earlier.

So a bit of a mixed stage for us. It was really enjoyable, we were blessed with beautiful weather and, even though we ended up a little off course, we covered a very similar distance on what were probably easier surfaces. There were fewer places of interest on this stage than we had experienced previously, although thankfully no sewage works, however the experience of walking along almost deserted country lanes more than made up for this.

Stage 2 – Rockland St. Mary to Loddon

Date of walk - 5th September 2025

Distance walked - 9.9 miles / 15.84 km

Floors climbed (using Apple Health app.) - 0 floors

Ongoing Totals – 23.7 miles / 37.92 km / 6 floors

Wherryman's Way Walk - Stage One - The Never Ending Road

Ian Spires — Mon, 08 Sep 2025 21:48:46 +0000

So, it's been a while since we last challenged ourselves to a long distance walk.

A long distance walk in stages, of course.

In fact it was 2020, during the “in and out of lock down” era, that we last completed such a challenge.

And whilst we have been walking since then, it has not quite been the long distances and organised challenges of before, for various health reasons mostly.

So we decided to embrace The Wherryman's Way walk as something to keep us occupied during a rather luxuriously long stay in the Norfolk countryside. A place we already love.

It's supposed to be 38.2 miles (61.12 km) in length and traces, more or less, the River Yare from the centre of Norwich to the North Sea at Great Yarmouth. We shall see how accurate this is.

We started at Norwich station on a grey August morning, finding the river just a few steps from the main entrance. Perhaps not the best of signs, but the guidebook we are using managed to confuse us before we even saw the water. However our well practiced looks of confusion managed to attract the attention of a very friendly woman who walked the first 10 minutes or so with us. She shared stories of husband number one, who promoted gigs in a wonderful old warehouse that we passed (and I photographed) and husband number two, who fitted the windows into some very swish apartments. In fact she was really helpful and enthused about our challenge. We believed her when she said she would rather walk with us to Great Yarmouth than continue on her journey to work!

We pottered around the outskirts of Norwich for a while, finding some rather interesting derelict buildings that I really wanted to explore, before heading out into the country. We walked through the Whitlingham Country Park, part of an estate owned by the famous Colman's Mustard family, and passed the ruins of Trowse Newton Hall. The ruins were largely covered by ivy, part of which was being removed as we visited, but their history included a stay by King Edward III and damage during the food riots of 1766, which was interesting.

We continued along country lanes, with water on one side and, briefly, the local sewage works on the other, managing to get lost on a couple of occasions thanks to the rather vague instructions we were trying to follow. The least said about us clambering over a locked gate, because we were sure that was the way the path went, the better.

The Water's Edge bar and restaurant at Bramerton was a delight as it appeared at the end of a very narrow lane and we stopped for lunch (sandwiches not the rather pricey restaurant, sadly) on the grassy staithe just along the road.

We followed well hidden tracks, winding between and around some stunning properties and managing to get lost once more.

Anyone that has read some of my previous posts will know my rather strong views about large, privately owned, houses stopping sea and river footpaths from being open and available to the general public. It was not quite as frustrating here as on our Sussex Coast Walk and in fact it was rather charming in some ways even though we were directed away from the river on too many occasions

Rich, entitled land and property owners blocking our natural heritage however remain on my hit list.

We managed to disturb a sleeping deer and found a lovely isolated bird hide looking out over the reed beds after a brief pause at Surlingham Church, another beautiful example of the Norfolk round tower church style.

We moved away from the river after walking through the RSPB reserve at Church Marsh and headed up towards where we planned to pick up the bus. Being very aware of the times of the next bus (and the fact that we would have to wait another 90 minutes if we missed it) we took the decision to make a short detour and head up what looked like a simple road into Rockland St. Mary.

Reality was that this road seemed to go on and on and on, turning into little more than a footpath and winding through numerous fields and past a luxurious farm house (and an automatic water spray which we successfully dodged). We walked faster and faster and then, when we finally arrived at the small village and asked a local, were advised that some of the bus stops were not actually marked and we could probably “just stand over there and wave your arms when the bus arrives, he is sure to see you!”

I am pleased to say that the driver did in fact see us, he did stop and he did get us back into Norwich. We took another bus back to the park and ride (three buses in the day, perhaps I should start counting them) and fell into the car ready for the trip home.

Interestingly, even making allowance for the extra mile we had to walk in the morning between bus and train stations and the amount we missed when we made the detour, we both felt that the 10.6 miles that the guidebook suggested for this first stage was rather severely underestimated.

So it was a long stage, almost 14 miles for us in total, but the weather held even if the skies were mostly cloudy.

And it was great to be out on the roads again on a walking challenge.

Stage 1 – Norwich to Rockland St. Mary

Date of walk - 20th August 2025

Distance walked - 13.8 miles / 22.08 km

Floors climbed (using Apple Health app.) - 6 floors

Number of times lost - 3

People Matter - Number Four Of An Occasional Series - Mark

Ian Spires — Sun, 20 Jul 2025 10:16:02 +0000

Sometimes people are exactly as they seem.

Rare, in my experience, but it can happen.

Mark is one of those people.

When you first meet him you just know that he is decent and kind. He genuinely wants to know how you are and asks questions, actively listening to everything that you share with him.

And this is all done in an accepting and non-judgemental way, refreshing in an age where so many seem to have an agenda and are always thinking about what they want to say next.

Mark clearly cares and he helps out others, friends and even complete strangers at times, whenever he feels that it might be required. I have known Mark to help out with his local foodbank, to shop for elderly neighbours and to sometimes take time to feed the swans on the river, just because he can.

Needless to say he is modest about all of this and also his many talents and skills. It would be easy to feel just a little inadequate around Mark at times as a result, but often I find the opposite, that people are actually motivated by hearing of his exploits rather than anything else.

And anyone that inspires others has to be applauded, don’t they?

Vast Areas Of Nothingness

Ian Spires — Fri, 20 Jun 2025 15:13:57 +0000

Note: A short supplement to my previous post here about our Namibian adventures, mainly to share the wildlife images.

Etosha National Park in Nambia was not what I expected.

It’s like a vast, seemingly never-ending, area of scrubland. Rough, mostly flat, with some areas of nothingness and little vegetation. Other parts however are full of thick undergrowth and trees, so dense that you just cannot see what, if anything, is lurking just a few metres away from the track. And the waterholes, some natural, others clearly made to ensure that those animals living in the park manage to survive in the harshest of conditions.

And then you have the Etosha Pan. a “vast, bare, open expanse of shimmering green and white that covers 4,800 square kilometres.” The largest salt pan in Africa, visible from space (a fact that I love) and home to vast swathes of wildlife including tens of thousands of migrating flamingos.

Add to this our adventures in Damaraland tracking desert-adapted wild elephants and our brief Namibian adventure was perfect for experiencing animals that we all recognise, and many we don’t, in their natural habitat.

Our timing was a little off, we arrived after an exceptionally wet period, the wettest for well over 10 years, so many animals were spoilt for choice, avoiding the waterholes and finding what they needed elsewhere. But we experienced so much during our few days that we can hardly complain.

I took many, many photographs in the hope that a few were good enough for me to share here.

It’s not for me to say whether those that I have shared are any good, but as with my previous post, hopefully I have been able to do my experience some justice.

We shall see.

New Experiences And Contradictions

Ian Spires — Fri, 20 Jun 2025 15:04:25 +0000

It’s been a long time since I last posted anything worthwhile in here. A short post a few weeks ago just to try to get back into the swing of things, but other than that, nothing.

Nothing for over six months.

And of course there is a reason. There is always a reason.

It's one thing to have something to write about. I have to admit that sometimes it can be a challenge to find the right words to sit alongside an image that I want to share. But it's something completely different when I manage to convince myself that there is no point in even trying to write anything and no point in sharing any photographs.

It can happen.

But, and here is the good news I hope, that silence is about to end.

Because, and this is where the drum roll would ideally be inserted if I had one, I actually have something that I feel like I want to write about.

Something beautiful, meaningful, certainly challenging and something I am unlikely ever to experience again.

We took a holiday.

But not just any holiday.

It was the first time we had been overseas for a couple of years. Not unusual in a world of ever rising costs.

It was also the first time that we had been on a plane in about six or seven years. Again, that can happen.

So I guess in some ways this was a special holiday, perhaps even a holiday of a lifetime.

We went to Africa.

To Namibia.

A country I knew almost nothing about before our trip.

A neighbour of South Africa, Angola, Zambia and Botswana. Formerly a colony of Germany and then under the control of South Africa, which introduced the horrific apartheid system to Namibia until the country was partly removed from their control in the late sixties. Gaining complete independence only in 1990, it remains one of the most sparsely populated countries in the world. It has a population of just over three million people living in an area of 318,772 square miles, making it the 34th largest country but with a population only the size of Wales.

I am tempted to write and share every last detail, every single step of this wonderful and fascinating experience. Every moment, every taxi ride, plane flight, hotel visit and beautiful view. But I’ve decided not to. Because it would be ridiculously long, of course, but also really, really boring. I mean, who honestly wants to spend hours going through someone else’s holiday photos?

I thought not.

So, a few highlights will just have to do and maybe, hopefully, I will be able to do our week and a bit in Africa justice.

Things That I Loved.

- Staying in remote, beautiful places with virtually no traffic, people and noise.

- The stunning Namib Desert. Our flights across vast areas of sand and rock allowed us sights that were straight out of TV nature documentaries and some of our trips, especially to Sossusvlei and Deadvlei, were moments of pure beauty and magic. And to cap this part of our trip, we stayed at the most tranquil and remote place I have probably ever visited, the Hoodia Desert Lodge.

- The absolutely incredible night sky in the desert. I had been warned that I would not believe what I saw and this was completely true.. The sky was just FULL of light.

- Etosha national park and the amazing wild life that we experienced there, even during one of the wettest periods Namibia has experienced in over 10 years. To complete three game drives and actually see these beautiful animals in their natural habitat was difficult to get my head around at times. I could equate most of these beautiful creatures only with visits to a local zoo growing up. I also found it impossible to fully comprehend the vastness of the Etosha Pan, a salt pan so massive that it can be seen from space.

- An elephant game drive, outside of the national park, through local villages, along dried up river beds and then, finally, spotting a group of maybe 7 or 8 with a young calf. Once again it was an almost unexpectedly magical experience to see wild elephants naturalised to desert conditions so closely and for such a long period of time. It was also a highlight to stop and meet some of the villagers at De Riet, a small and isolated place that shares its streets and water supplies with these wild elephants.

- Being guided by an expert, Franco, for the second half of the trip. Learning about his life living in Namibia and hearing just some of his vast knowledge of the country, history and wildlife was fascinating. Also, having dinner with him and his wife on our last evening in Windhoek was a lovely way to conclude our experience and connect with genuine, local people.

- Actually enjoying some of the flights that we took in very small aircraft. We used tiny, private landing strips in the middle of nowhere, something that before our trip I felt could be a challenge. We flew over vast, unpopulated areas that were impossible to reach by land and used the sort of facilities that I would have struggled to believe if I had not seen them with my own eyes - a departure lounge with a canvas roof and no walls, toilets with only three walls to ensure stunning views even whilst in use, pilots meeting and greeting passengers, checking tickets and loading luggage themselves. And actually, allegedly, even allowing a passenger to sit alongside and take the controls for a while. Just incredible!

- Eating things I had never tried before and will almost certainly never get to try again, including Oryx lasagne and Sprinkbok kebhab.

- A drive from airstrip to lodge in an open sided, tiered vehicle, at what felt like Formula One speed, along game tracks, dried river beds and gravel roads with dust clouds to marvel at, with all of the passengers literally hanging on for their own, slightly overlooked, safety!

- Seeing some of the dried up rivers come to life after a tropical storm. We went out early one morning (make that every morning!) and came across beautiful rivers where there had been none the previous evening. Seeing kids playing in these rivers and numerous vehicles that had stopped just to watch the water flowing demonstrated how rare this was. And in many parts of the country gravel tracks were routed through or even along some of these river beds so when the waters were flowing it made driving even more of an adventure!

- Staying in a wonderful lodge (although all the places that we visited were just fantastic) at Camp Kipwe in Damaraland, half way up a mountain with views over a savannah that looked as if it was straight out of Jurassic Park. Especially memorable when we watched a hot, sticky afternoon gradually turn into a spectacular African thunderstorm and experienced sunsets from the bar at the top of the mountain..

- An early morning visit to see the rock engravings at Twyfelfontein, a World Heritage site in Damaraland. No health and safety issues in Namibia thank you very much. As long as you could put one foot in front of the other then you were assumed to be fit and able enough to climb over boulders and rocks and follow the rather sprightly guide along the trail. Just as it should be!

- A wildlife lodge just outside of the national park, Etosha Oberland Lodge, that epitomised everything I had imagined a safari lodge should look like - an open sided lounge and dining room right next to floodlit waterholes where you could watch and hear the local animals as you relaxed, even at night.

- A real “Out Of Africa” moment with a sundowner experience looking out over the desert and then, the following day, lunch under a large shade tree in Sossusvlei, with the full works including table, tablecloth, crockery and cutlery and chilled wine (fine for those that drink wine I guess!).

Things That I Loved A Little Less And Some That Actually Made Me Feel Uncomfortable.

Yes, I know, I know. A wonderful adventure should not need a section like this, but I want to be completely honest about my experience. I guess I can probably sum up these feelings in a couple of relatively general points

- Being served by friendly, polite and enthusiastic staff in beautiful and expensive lodges, but then finding out from our guide that there is no real minimum wage in operation and also being advised that some were probably just getting board and lodging in exchange for their work. This made me uncomfortable and, in these circumstances, I felt like I was just another white, wealthy tourist taking advantage of the locals. This did not sit well with me.

- And, in a similar vein, I found that staying in places that felt opulent, luxurious and way outside of what I might normally experience left me feeling that, no matter how much I enjoyed it, I didn’t really belong. This clearly says more about me than the accommodation.

So, does this take the edge off what was a fantastic experience?

No, not at all.

We all feel challenged at times when outside of our respective comfort zones and we have to decide how best to deal with that when it happens. It does not invalidate the numerous exciting and wonderful experiences in our adventure, so many that it is impossible to note them all here. Which is surely something to be celebrated.

Travel genuinely does open and broaden the mind, this much is clear. Africa, and Namibia in particular, has now become a real place in my mind, not just a name on a map or a location in a wildlife documentary. It was vibrant, exciting, full of fascinating places and people and the almost inevitable contradictions that a place like Africa will surely bring. In some ways it felt just as I had hoped it might yet in others completely and utterly unlike anything I could have imagined.

It has in some ways confirmed to me that poverty and exploitation can take place anywhere, here in the UK and also Africa, places that have history rich in both. It also challenged my personal values and encouraged me to be honest in how I evaluate and share my experiences with others.

And for these reasons alone it was a magical and memorable adventure.

Note: I have created a separate post here for all of the wildlife images.

Maybe It's What We Need To Find

Ian Spires — Tue, 13 May 2025 09:12:10 +0000

We find our inspiration where we can in life, when it hits us or when we stumble across it..

Today I was hit.

A movie, no less, reminded me what I already knew, I think, but needed to remember, As we age, as we mature and learn, we find the ability to see the world around us through a different lens. To see past, see beyond, our unrealistic desires and beliefs and all of those things that we are taught to want and need as we grow and evolve.

We find, at least I hope we do, an authentic view of the world and of our place in it. Not life as it should be or as we want it to be, but life as it is.

Beyond beauty and wealth, beyond privilege and expectation, because at the end of the day, we all know that none of this matters.

It really doesn’t.

And what’s left, after we find our way trough all of the smoke and noise, is everything else.

And everything else is what matters.

People, connection and love.

Perhaps everything else is the real meaning of life.

It’s the pot of gold at the rainbow’s end.

And maybe it’s what we have to learn and what we need to find.

We Don't Know What We Don't Know

Ian Spires — Thu, 10 Oct 2024 19:28:54 +0000

We are tender and often unprepared, but perhaps that is what civilization does to us.

To walk away from excess and capitalist cultural saturation is something that speaks directly to me, often and insistently.

And wildness, at its basic and unreconstructed finest, becomes ever more attractive every time that voice of sanity echoes around my head.

You need this, it tells me, each time I listen, walk away from these things that destroy your world and insidiously attack your humanity.

Step back and embrace the simple.

For that is where you will learn to live exactly as you should.

With the wind in your face, a heart full of love and an understanding of your own unimportance.

The People I Hurt And The Lessons I Learned

Ian Spires — Sun, 22 Sep 2024 18:22:06 +0000

Do we ever know who we are?

I mean, really know who we are?

Enough to say, hey, this is me, this is exactly who I am and I want everyone to see it.

Because I am more than what people think I am. I am more than what I think I am.

I am more than just the things I learned from the people that taught me, from the people I copied or the way I was told to think.

I am more than my values and my thoughts and always more than just my ideas.

I am more than my fears and desires, more than my worries and dreams and nightmares. More than the way that people made me feel, whether they meant to or not, and the decisions that I made and the people that I hurt and the lessons that I learned, or didn't learn, from those experiences. I am more than the weight of all the opportunities that I didn't take or maybe didn't even notice.

Of course they shape me, these random and sometimes chaotic moments, these fragments of a life, and they are me in so many ways.

But I am more than this.

I am the brief and momentary seconds that pass, insignificant yet lasting, that twisted and turned my malleable mind. I am the look she gave me when I asked her out, the words I used on the way home in the rain and the way I felt when I overslept and missed the appointment.

They are all me.

I am the music that made me cry but also made me dance and sing along with delight and joy. And I am the smell of the perfume she chose for that special dinner or the fragrance of soil and vegetation on our walk after the storm.

I am already so much and with luck will become so much more.

But no-one will ever know the real me.

For We Are All Human

Ian Spires — Tue, 03 Sep 2024 17:00:00 +0000

How satisfying to sometimes take a step back from life.

Even if just for a moment.

To do nothing for a while but watch. Watch and listen. As people go about their busyness, like performers on their own personal stage, playing their parts for my entertainment and fascination.

And to judge, perhaps, for we are all human, but I hope not in a way that would cause shame or embarrassment.

For when we stop, when we look, then sometimes, we get to see the most interesting of things.

Sensibly Although A Little Reluctantly

Ian Spires — Sun, 01 Sep 2024 17:54:59 +0000

Sometimes the best things are not planned.

They just happen.

Like when an afternoon out in a north Cornwall town turns into a spectacular walk along the cliff tops on the South West Coast Path.

Not a long walk, I should add. Not like the old days, when my body was able to work well without too much thought and effort.

No, this was probably no more than about 5 or 6 miles in length.

And no more than a few hours of relatively relaxed walking, with plenty of stops to admire the views and to climb down to visit some of the hidden little beaches.

And climb back up again, of course.

But a wonderful way to spend a sunny May weekday afternoon when we had nothing really planned.

Starting from Bude and finding the path along to Summerleaze beach and the rather empty Sea Pool, we walked over the gentle hills and down to Crooklets Beach. Up again, this time into National Trust property, Maer Cliffs, we took a beautiful grass path along the cliff tops with stunning views out over Bude Bay and looked down on the rather wonderfully named Vinegar Cove and some incredible beaches. We headed back down, this time into Northcott Mouth, with a quiet beach and a lovely little tea room (well, converted horse box) in the middle of nowhere.

Feeling the urge to keep walking, we then started to tackle the serious climbs (marked in red on the official website and labelled as “challenging walks”, not that we knew it at the time) which really took me back to some of our old adventures. Past Menachurch Point, with one of the few benches on this walk (no thought given for those that need to rest, apparently) and then over some beautiful grassy hills. We walked through a wild and rather appealing camp site and then through fields full of sheep, many of which were rather precariously hanging on to the top of the cliffs, seemingly oblivious to what lay a few steps behind them. Another steep decline took us down to an isolated pub and then a further challenging, rocky path down to Sandymouth Bay beach. Which proved to be an anomaly of sorts as there was no sand that I could see, but it was stunning and quiet and very warm.

Positively Mediterranean in many ways.

We took a break here and, sensibly although a little reluctantly, decided to turn around and head back.

I didn't want to push things too much. I was reminded that only a few months before I was using a walking stick and could barely get out of the house. Things have improved massively and to be able to walk up and down cliffs on such a spectacular coastal path was something I had feared was in the past.

So that was to be celebrated.

As was the joy of spontanaity, something I have written about here before. Just doing things that feel right at the time.

And pushing yourself to go and do just a little more than you think you can.

Keep Positive And Put It Out There

Ian Spires — Fri, 05 Apr 2024 15:21:58 +0000

I know what I don’t want.

I know what doesn’t work for me.

But….

…and there is always a but, isn’t there?

It can be so difficult to know what I really do want at times.

And when I think I know, when something leaps out and grabs me, as it sometimes does, there often seems to be a reason why it’s not quite right and I change my mind.

Which is actually a little sad and depressing.

Of course these obstacles, whatever they might be, could actually be self imposed, which happens to all of us at times in our lives.

And life is never easy, that’s a fact.

But I found myself this week listening to positivity from others regarding something that I thought I wanted and for some reason my automatic reaction was to want to fight it. The opinions of friends, their “keep positive and just put it out to the world” attitude, actually challenged me and got me wondering whether I really wanted it after all. Perhaps it was simply the rather unrealistic over-confidence of someone that has already got what I thought I wanted that put me off.

Because it’s never that easy, even when someone tells you that it was for them.

And no-one ever really knows your situation and the issues you face.

Perhaps.

But now I am wondering once again what it is that I want. And if I am finding doubts over something as simple as a relatively supportive comment then maybe I didn’t want it enough in the first place.

So what, exactly, is it that I want?

And why is it so difficult to know?

I have no idea but watch this space.

To Want To Do

Ian Spires — Sun, 31 Mar 2024 22:30:42 +0000

I was chatting with someone the other day.

They told me that they believed that they had a creative personality.

But also admitted that they could not paint.

They said they couldn’t draw either.

Or sing, write, act or, indeed, create anything of note.

But still, they identified as being creative.

And it made me think, yes, that’s how I feel about myself at times.

In fact, it’s how I feel quite often.

And later, as I began to think it over, I realised that to be creative is more about how you think than what you do. To have the ability to see and imagine new things that excite and motivate is surely what being creative is all about.

And that is inspiring.

But oh, to one day find that elusive talent and actually turn those thoughts into something more tangible.