Below are Laura’s and my own diary entries, respectively, after our first day of walking in Patagonia:

We wake around 7am and pack up the tent with few words. We walk, enjoying the morning peace and our rested legs.

Before an hour is up, I feel a flash of irritation – at the incessant flies, at Tim, at my pack or at the trip itself. The irritation grows until I’m nearly in tears. I look at Tim and realise he hasn’t spoken for a while. When I ask him a question, the reply is distracted and vague.

We look at each and both know it’s breakfast time.

No words as we unpack the stove, cook porridge and make tea. With the first few mouthfuls, we both sigh and the words flow again. That’s better.

This pattern is repeated throughout the day with each snack and meal stop preceded by a blood sugar crash. We learn we need to eat more often but somehow we forget and the sugar swings remain.

Not the first time blood sugar issues have arisen on the blog! Here are my thoughts from the same day:

Two sentences struck me today:

1. Laura, as we started walking: “This is all we have to do for the next three weeks – walk!”
2. Me, towards the end of the day: “Only one more hour to go.”

The first acknowledges with relish that we have an extended period of holiday; simplicity and freedom of a duration rarely afforded.

The second looks forward to it being over, at least for that day. Why the opposing views?

They don’t reflect conflicting positions – we enthusiastically agreed with each other on both points – but they do hint at some subtle contradictions of expedition life:

A. Sometimes the immediate feelings can be discomfort, displeasure, even distress, but lead to a deeper satisfaction from rising to a challenge, elation from its completion and, simply, the pleasure of it being over.

B. Recognising the long-term pleasure gained through hardship – undoubtedly a key reason for undertaking such challenges – does not mean that a part of you doesn’t want that discomfort to stop.

A marathon runner may delight in the feeling of pushing their body hard but still feel it screaming for them to stop and craving the moment when they do.

If you are so desperate to get your hands on a copy that you can’t read any more then just click here to buy it now.

But for those who recognise that good things come to those who wait, below is a little more information about the book, what’s in it and where you can get hold of a copy.

What’s the book about?

The book is an armchair guide to seven different grand adventures. It has a mix of practical information for those interested in actually pursuing a particular expedition – like how hard they are, how much they cost and how to get started – as well as providing some insight for the curious and answering a few questions like: Where do you sleep on a tiny ocean rowing boat? How do you go to the loo in Antarctica? (Hint: quickly).

The chapters are as follows:

How to Cross a Desert

How to Row an Ocean

How to Get to the North Pole

How to Cycle Around the World

How to Climb an Unclimbed Mountain

How to Get to the South Pole

How to Sail the Seven Seas

What’s covered in the book?

Each chapter starts with a bit of history and background to set the challenge in context – explaining, for example, what defines a desert or where the term ‘Seven Seas’ originates. There’s also some basic statistics about costs and difficulty.

From there I lay out some of the options available for the adventure. So, in the desert chapter you can choose between taking a camel, towing a cart and driving a 4×4; rowers can find out the differences between the major oceans they can cross; and mountaineers can learn where the unclimbed peaks lay.

The practicalities are dealt with next: How long will it take? What do you eat? What happens if it all goes wrong? Then come the difficulties you might face – capsize at sea, dehydration in the desert, flat tyres and steep hills on your bike, or avalanche on a mountainside – and how to deal with them. Finally in this section is kit: What do you wear to stay warm in Antarctica? What makes drinking water in the middle of the Atlantic? Which footwear’s best in a sand sea desert?

The subsequence part of each chapter is dedicated to the costs – including realistic budgeting and the cheapest possible options – some notes on training and preparation for your expedition, and suggested first steps so that you can actually make a start.

T’here are also ideas for easier, harder and never-been-done alternatives, as well as a list of resources for finding out more.

Finally, interspersed through all of this are anecdotes and stories from adventures past – like the Russian guy who arrived on the Thames in a tiny boat at the height of the Cold War having just rowed from the Arctic, and a Briton who rocked up to a hotel in Mongolia and asked to buy a camel (they laughed at him but he still got one).

What is the book not?

• This is not a book about the North Pole. It’s about a range of different adventures, one of which happens to be the North Pole (and which happens to make for a catchy title).
• It is not a dry, technical manual. You could have no knowledge of expeditions or any intention of attempting one and, I hope, still enjoy reading it.
• It is not just a coffee table book. Although suitable for a quick flick through whilst sitting on the loo, it also contains a lot of well-researched practical information for anyone planning an expedition.

Who features in the book?

Although the bulk of the content has been written and researched by me, I also invited a number of different experienced explorers to share their stories, advice and anecdotes.

As well Ranulph Fiennes’ foreword, there are ‘Day in the Life’ stories from Andy Kirkpatrick, Charles Foster, Sarah McNair-Landry, Alastair Humphreys and others; and expedition legends like Sir Chris Bonnington, Borge Ousland, Mark Beaumont and Bear Grylls join 50-odd other adventurers in giving their two pence-worth.

I was also helped with technical details by a number of contributors like Felicity Aston, Alex Hibbert and Sam McConnell.

Where can I buy a copy?

Direct from the Author

The best option for me is for people to buy directly through my website. It cuts out any big-business middle-men and means you get your copy signed. I charge £10 for the book plus £2 for postage to the UK (it costs £7 for me to post internationally so your best bet is probably Amazon.com if you live overseas unless you really want my signature).

Online at Amazon

The book’s also on sale at Amazon. If you buy from there, please do use the button below and click the ‘Like’ button. It really helps me to spread the word.

Already got a copy? Please take 30-seconds to write a review on Amazon.

In the Shops

Finally, you can take the traditional approach and pick up a copy from your local book shop. It’s stocked in Waterstones and WHSmiths, for example, and there are signed copies at the Royal Geographical Society, Stanfords and the Paramo Store in London, as well as various shops that I’ve visited with my pen.

Do you run a shop or know someone that might be interested in stocking my book? Get in touch.

How to Get to the North Pole: and Other Iconic Adventures

Order a signed copy for £10 plus £2 UK postage.

In other more exciting news:

The Book

Sales of the book seem to be coming along alright. Thanks to everyone who’s bought a copy so far. It’s stocked in book shops now and briefly made it into Amazon’s Top 10 for ‘Discovery & Exploration’ (reviews help with this – write one here). Review copies have been sent out to various publications so hopefully it will get some more exposure over the coming months.

‘How to Get to the North Pole: and Other Iconic Adventures’ is on sale now. Signed copies available for £10+P&P – ORDER A COPY

Scott 2012

I’ve started doing a little work for Ben Saunders’ team who are preparing for an expedition to the South Pole. Alastair Humphreys, Martin Hartley and Ben are currently in Greenland on a training trip. There is a small amount of information about their expedition at www.scott2012.org.

London Explorers

I’ve recently stepped away from the organisation of London Explorers after hosting the first year’s worth of Explorers Connect events in the capital. They’re excellent meetings and I’d highly recommend them for anyone looking for inspiration, adventure-minded folk with whom to knock heads or just the motivational kick up the ass that they need.

Belinda Kirk, who set up Explorers Connect and runs Bristol Explorers, is still in charge. If you’re interested in getting involved with the London events then I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.

Weight gain

Back in March I asked for some help with putting on weight to insulate me whilst swimming the Thames. Well, I have now succeeded in gaining several kilos and weigh more than I ever have before. Unfortunately I’m not able to swim much at the moment so have essentially just got fat for no particular reason! Fingers crossed it’ll come in handy when I do get back in the water.

Below are six of the adventure and philosophical blogging highlights from April 2012.  Featured this month is advice on protecting yourself from sharks when swimming across oceans (useful stuff), running with a broken heart (in the more literal rather than romantic sense) and a strangely compelling motivational video (#3).

I make a similar list each month. Browse the old and best in the Six of the Best archive.

Six of the Best – April 2012

1. Top Five Regrets of the Dying – Susie Steiner, The Guardian
2. Sharks Live in the Ocean – Evan, Fresh Water Swimmer
3. This is an Invocation for anyone who Hasn’t Begun – Ze Frank, AlastairHumphreys.com
4. The Heart to Run – Theresa Ashley, Beyond Limits
5. 5 Tips for First Time Scuba Divers – Stephanie Phillips, Outdoors Blogger
6. 7 things you should give up to be a happy cyclist  - Andreas, London Cyclist

Photo courtesy of David Tett

Below is a list of the equipment I took to Patagonia. We bought quite a lot of new kit so I’ve mentioned any particular bargains and expensive items. I think we took too much stuff though so I’ve also included what we could have done without. Notes from Laura are in italics.

Clothes

1 pair old walking boots (with new insoles)

1 pair sandals

2 pairs thick socks, 1 pair thin - Laura also took 1 medium pair

2 pairs light walking trousers, one of which zipped-off to short

2 pairs underwear (Laura: 4 knickers, 1 normal bra, 1 sports bra – also used for swimming)

1 merino t-shirt, 1 long sleeve merino, 1 long sleeve bamboo (L: no long sleeve merino)

1 long sleeve cotton/linen shirt

1 Buffalo jacket / Rab Generator smock

1 Goretex waterproof jacket / 1 Paramo Velez Adventure Light Smock

1 pair Goretex/eVent waterproof trousers

1 pair thin woollen/synthetic gloves

1 thin balaclava/buff (also used as dust mask, eye mask, mosquito protection and hat)

1 thick/thin fleece hat

Camping and other kit

Berghaus Flare 1100 synthetic sleeping bag

Polycotton/silk sleeping bag liner

Alpkit three-quarter length / Pacific Outdoors full length self-inflating mattress

Petzl Tikka/Zipka headtorch

MSR Hubba Hubba HP two-person tent

Primus Omnilite Ti titanium multi-fuel stove (kindly provided by Rosker and Primus)

2 aluminium cooking pots

1 titanium spoon

1 plastic folding cup

2 Leki Makula walking poles

1 MacPac Ascent 65-litre / Pursuit 55-litre rucksack

Various stuff sacks, dry bags and a large transparent plastic rucksack liner

Basic first aid kit, pen knife,

Tiny pack flannel, tooth brush, small bar soap in old tights

Tea-towel sized pack towel / lightweight sarong 

Technology

Samsung Galaxy II smartphone for GPS (using GPS Essentials app)

Amazon Kindle e-reader for books, email and Twitter

GoPro Hero video camera

Panasonic Lumix DMC-LX3 digital camera

2 Freeloader Classic solar panels

Camlink Z1 universal battery charger

Gomadic adaptable USB charger

Costs and Bargains

Solar panels were picked up for £14 each (RRP£40) in Millets sale.

Sleeping bags, £30 in the same sale (RRP£90)

Tent was a whopping £300 plus a little extra for the additional groundsheet (RRP£400)

I don’t have a GPS but I already had a smartphone and the GPS Essentials app was free

The multi-fuel stove came free on trial from Primus and Rosker.

Could have made do with…

Our bags ended up being really heavy when loaded with food and water, and it made for tough going. If I did it again, I would try to shed some weight from my pack. I reckon I could have got by using the following:

1 pair thick socks (ditch the other 2 pairs and wash them when wearing sandals)

1 bamboo long sleeve top (ditch the 2 merino tops which I’d planned to use as layers for warmth but didn’t need. I mostly wore the cotton shirt for the sun protection.)

1 pair zip-off trousers (the second pair were nice for social occasions but not necessary)

1 pair of undies (I didn’t wear them whilst walking) / 2 knickers and just sports bra

1 pair of trainers might have worked instead of the boots and sandals, perhaps with flip flops, and/or more cushioned soles

Something thinner/lighter than the Buffalo since it was so hot

Lighter weight waterproofs (we could have got away with none but that was just luck)

Smaller sleeping bag. I didn’t need to zip it up most nights and could have worn more clothes. 3/4 length mat.

1 pan instead of two.

Expeditions to the North and South Poles have a lot in common and it can be easy to assume that they are both pretty much the same – cold and white. However, they are very different in a number of ways. Below are some of them.

The Arctic

The Arctic is an ocean surrounded by continents.

It is defined by the Arctic Circle at 66.5º north which marks the edge of 24 hour days and nights.

North Pole expeditions are largely conducted on the frozen sea ice surface of the Arctic Ocean. Water is always flowing beneath your feet and in many areas there is a constant threat of falling through the ice.

Polar bears live only in the Arctic. Seals of varying types live in both the Arctic and Antarctica.

There are trees, roads, villages and shops inside the Arctic Circle but nothing permanent exists on the Arctic Ocean as it constantly moves and melts.

The North Pole is only ever a metre or two above sea level depending on the thickness of the ice.

There is nothing at the location of the North Pole.

The Arctic Ocean is very humid. Managing moisture inside a tent is critical during North Pole expeditions.

On average, the Arctic is not as cold as Antarctica. However, most North Pole expeditions cannot operate at the Arctic’s warmest because the sea ice melts so, in practice, it can be just as cold.

Antarctica

Antarctica is a continent surrounded by oceans.

There is an Antarctic Circle at 66.5º south but Antarctica refers to the continent.

South Pole expeditions operate on ice but largely with land beneath it.

Penguins live in Antarctica. They live outside the Antarctic Circle too but never in the Arctic. The aggressive Leopard seals live in Antarctica but not the Arctic.

A few permanent and seasonal bases exist in Antarctica, mostly research stations, including one at the South Pole. There are no roads, villages or trees though.

The South Pole is at an elevation of almost 3,000 metres.

The South Pole is marked by a nearby research station, circle of flags and a stripey pole for posed photographs.

Antarctica is the driest of the seven continents and technically a desert. Any ‘snowing’ that you experience is almost certainly the result of snow on the ground being blown by wind.

Antarctica is colder than the Arctic but most people will plan their expeditions for the warmer summer and the dryness also makes it easier to handle the cold.

How to Get to the North Pole:

and Other Iconic Adventures

Newly published for April 2012

Three days stuck in the same Argentinian town. But which town? See if Laura’s diary entry will help you work it out:

In the style of those ‘Guess the location’ features that appear in several papers, see if you can guess our location from the clues:

1. Only a couple of places have landlines (and mobile reception is non-existent), and connection to the outside world using them is crackly and frequently down. Radios are a safer bet.
2. The name bears no relation to the environment in which it is located – it is in the middle of a desert where vegetation is prickly and parched.
3. The high winds further deter growth of vegetation and means houses are built single story on in a pyramid shape. People proudly water the patch of dirt which stands in for a garden.
4. A river flows through the ‘town’ – however incongruous in the dusty surroundings – and it’s milky appearance suggests glacial origins.
5. It is at an intersection of major bus routes, and it situated on an arterial road which runs the length of the country.
6. In the words of Del Amitri: “Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all”. Although there is a very well-staffed police station. You would never choose to come here.
7. Supermarket shelves are virtually bare – some vegetables, eggs two months out of date and a few lonely packets of pasta and tins of corned beef.

If you guess it, you get my sweat-soaked shirt.

Whenever I told people that a recent client of mine, Sarah Outen, had rowed a boat from Australia to Mauritius, the most common source of beffudlement was where you sleep on an ocean rowing boat. This was usually followed by some curiosity about how such a tiny boat would survive out at sea.

Below are some answers to those questions.

Where do you sleep on an ocean rowing boat?

Ocean rowing boats have cabins where you can sleep, sealed shut from the elements, usually at the back of the boat. This is where you will hide in bad weather and get whatever down time there is to be had. They are not spacious and can be tough in choppy seas but as with all of these things, you should hopefully adapt.

Shift patterns are normal at sea for groups. As such, sleep tends to be in short bursts of a few hours at a time. Solo or on a less arduous itinerary, there may be times when you follow a more normal sleep/wake routine, rowing during the day and sleeping at night. Other times, this may be far from the case. You may need to row for long, unearthly hours, or simply not be able to sleep through the fear and discomfort of an angry sea tossing you about.

How does a tiny boat survive in a big ocean?

Like any sea-worthy vessel, ocean rowing boats are designed to stay upright as much as possible but also to quickly self-right should they get flipped.

Some features of modern ocean rowing boats that help achieve this include:

• Low centre of gravity due to a heavy ballast at the bottom of the boat. Usually a large volume of fresh water.
• Completely sealed deck and cabins to avoid swamping or water getting inside the holds.
• Maintaining buoyancy, in part through the large air-filled cabins on top of the boat.
• The boats are made from many small compartments so a single hole won’t cause the whole thing to fill with water.

Photo courtesy of Chris Martin

How to Get to the North Pole:

and Other Iconic Adventures

Newly published for April 2012

Laura and I were given a GoPro Hero video camera for Christmas (thanks Rob!) and, after a few test runs, we took it to Patagonia to film.

For those not familiar, it is a tiny box of a camera about the size of a large stack of credit cards. It comes in a waterproof and shock-resistant case with lots of different attachments so you can stick it on your helmet or the handlebars of your bike so it’s ideal for sports and expeditions. And, best of all, you can get some great shots doing nothing but clicking ‘Record’ and ‘Stop’ as appropriate.

This is our first video, kindly edited by my friend Thom.

It’s not going to win any awards but hopefully it shows that even a simple video camera with two simple and inexperienced operators can still capture the sense of an adventure and make something fun to watch.

Enjoy!

(Watch video on Vimeo)

Some reflections about the trusty rucksack I lugged half away across South America:

My rucksack has a particularly large pocket in its lid. Big enough for an A4 folder or a pair of shoes. It always contains those items which I will need most often.

For the first week this was money for buying food and credit cards to pay for transport, my passport for border crossings and registrations, mobile phone for messages and Kindle for reading at bus stops.

The contents of my lid pocket have slowly changed over the last few days. In place of cash comes my pen knife for slicing cheese and cutting chunks of salami. I no longer need a passport to show who I am but a map to show WHERE I am. Phone and books are not necessary but sun cream to protect exposed flesh from the long hours in the sun is and so is my head torch should darkness creep up.

I enjoy how the changing constituents of this pocket reflect my changing needs. Two items have not changed however and will probably always constant in my whatever top pocket I have: water and snacks.

Recent years have seen a spate of young sailors taking to the waves in an attempt to become the youngest person to complete a solo and unsupported circumnavigation.

There are debates about which journeys were made entirely unsupported and those which were non-stop but below are some of the sailors included in the lists:

Both 18, Australians Jesse Martin and David Dicks had only a few weeks’ difference in their age when they finished their journeys around the world in the late 90s. Dicks was slightly younger but deemed to have received help fixing his rig thus not travelled fully unsupported.

In July 2009, Zac Sunderland arrived home at the age of 17 after a one year voyage on a boat he bought for $6,500.

Although her route is not officially recognised, Jessica Watson completed her loop of the globe just three days before her 17th birthday.

Finally, despite attempted intervention by the Dutch government to stop her departing, Dutch sailor Laura Dekker began her own attempt in August 2010. Completing the journey in stages, she needs to finish by September 2012 to claim the record.

The World Sailing Speed Record Council governing body does not recognise record attempts by those under eighteen years old.

Photo courtesy of Nathan Eaton Jr.

How to Get to the North Pole:

and Other Iconic Adventures

Newly published for April 2012

I enjoy physically challenging projects and that is reflected in many of my expeditions and undertakings. The truth, however, is that I rarely train specifically for any given challenge. Instead, I just keep a general level of fitness which means I’m usually ready for whatever plans I make.

However, since the purpose of this website is to first encourage and second enable people to take on their own challenges, I thought it might help to give a quick overview of how I train.

How I Train For Running

I have enjoyed distance running since an early age. I regularly ran laps of the local field after school for no other reason than because I wanted to. I entered a couple of races through university (5k to 16 miles) and went out with the running club a few times but mostly just enjoying long, slow runs. A memorable event was the night I finished my first year exams when I probably should have been drinking but instead decided to try running to Canary Wharf from my halls by Marble Arch without a map.

I never ran much further than my 16 mile race at uni until two things happened some six years later: The first was that I met a new bunch of people who had all run multi-day marathons and ultra marathons (and seemed quite normal). Inspired the next day, I loaded a bum-bag with water and snacks to see how far I could run. I got lost and came home five and a half hours later.

I then came across the Long Distance Walking Association’s Challenge Events which also made running 20 or 30 miles seem quite normal and have since entered half a dozen events.

Following that, my now wife suggested that we ran the length of every Tube line in London. The longest looked to be some 40 miles+ which was further than either of us had ever run, not to mention almost entirely on concrete. But we just started with the shorter lines and built up to 30, 40 and 45 miles over the course of 12 runs. I did almost no running at all between Tube lines.

My longest run to date was a 50-mile slog to the coast from my flat in London which I did on a whim with a few days’ notice.

This part has been written as a story rather than a list of bullet points and training tips because that’s how it happened. I do occasionally run shuttles, do hill reps and time myself but mostly I just put my shoes on and run until I want to come home.

How I Train For Swimming

I was never particularly into swimming and when Thom and I decided we were going to swim three miles across the Solent, I could only do one length of front crawl before coming up for air, red faced and spluttering. That triathlon is one of the few things for which I have ever actively trained.

I negotiated sponsored membership of my local Fitness First at the time (London Bridge, Cottons) and tried to swim about three times a week. Very occasionally I’d try to do sprints and use the clock but mostly I just plodded up and down, over and over, and set myself distance targets.

I swam in an unheated lido a couple of times (Tooting Bec) using my wetsuit and did one test swim of three miles. I only swam outdoors once in training and that was a one mile race in the Solent, sans wetsuit.

For the Thames, I did no training at all, in part because of a shoulder injury. I got tired after an hour or two, and always got very cold, despite a wetsuit, which meant we would always have to stop early. Laura was never cold. To improve our progress for this year, I have started to train in the pool to get me stronger, get regularly cold water exposure to improve my tolerance, and try to gain some weight for insulation.

(N.B. For simple wild swimming for entertainment purposes, I would advocate doing no training at all)

How I Train For Cycling

I hated cycling as a kid but got into it as a means of transport in London and as a recreation whilst living in New Zealand. The handful of cycle tours I’ve done have not necessitated any training, I just relied on the leg strength developed through regular commutes.

For our triathlon, we practiced the route from London to Portsmouth a couple of times, as much to avoid getting lost on the day, and I attended a single ‘spinning’ session but that was about it.

The closest I’ve come to training on a bike was whilst living in Oman. A nearby oil compound residential area had a fantastic hilly 5km loop that my wife and I used to lap in the mornings, timing ourselves.

How I Train For Mountaineering and Trekking

Unless you are planning something reasonably audacious, mountaineering and trekking don’t require particularly peak fitness. For our walk across Patagonia, I spent a few weekends doing long walks around the UK, but for everything else I’ve relied on my base fitness levels.

That was enough even for a particularly tough crossing of the Wahiba Sands (a friend who was a professional tennis coach got worn out after 24-hours).

I also dragged tyres a few times when I was hoping to join a North Pole expedition.

How I Train For Life

So, rather than training for specific events, I try to keep fit for life in general with the following activities:

Going out for runs

Usually from my front door, occasionally in LDWA or other events. Sometimes performing hill reps and shuttles, often setting arbitrary targets (e.g. Canary Wharf or the coast) or deliberately getting lost to extend a run. On occasion bare foot and not uncommonly as a means of getting around London.

Riding my bike everywhere

Using the bike for all transport in London (I probably use buses and trains less than once a month) and the occasional longer trip on a weekend. In Oman, I regularly rode my road bike hard and fast (for me) but never before or since.

Swimming in a pool

I’ve only undertaken two bouts of swim training, before my triathlon and now for the second year in the Thames. I just go to my local pool and do increasing numbers of lengths. I aim to do more sprints.

Circuits in the park / front room

Anything from ab sessions in the living room using a Swiss ball and whatever exercises come to mind, to sweating and grunting in the park, doing burpees and shuttles with my wife.