Microadventure: An Escape From Routine
Yesterday I finished work and left London for a more challenging, adventurous and memorable start to my weekend. I swapped the pub for the hills and my bed for a tent. I went on a Microadventure.
A concept pioneered by Alastair Humprheys, a “microadventure is an adventure that is close to home: cheap, simple, short and yet very effective”.
After reading Alasitair’s book on Microadventures: Local discoveries for great escapes, I realised that all my excuses of why I was putting off my adventures for “the right time” were nonsense. As Alastair rightly points out;
If you are too busy, too stressed, too broke, too tired or too unfit for an adventure then you would definitley benefit from a microadventure.
Alastair Humphreys
So I decided to take action, and live adventurously… within the confinement of my weekend…at least for now.
A 40km hike and night on the beautiful South Downs Way was my microadventure of choice. So at 5pm on Friday I clocked off from work and began my adventure.
As we hurtled down the M23, hastily leaving the city and our modern day troubles behind, I was shocked at just how quick it was to reach the countryside. As the Croyden plains fell into the distance behind us, the hills of the Southern Downs began to encompass the horizon ahead. Boasting a maximum elevation of 270m, the South Downs won’t acquire you any fame and glory in peak bagging. However, the sheer size of these hills in contrast to Outer London’s flat landscape was truly a euphoric experience. If adventure is all relative, then we may as well have been approaching the foothills of the Himalayas as we sped towards these welcoming peaks.
We began walking across the hill top path as golden hour began to colour the evening. In the far distance London could be spotted as specs on the horizon, though for all that mattered it could have been a million miles away. We arrived at our home for the night just as the sun was beginning to set. We sat outside our tents and drank whisky to cement our achievement just as scarlet red clouds lit up the skyline. The awe of how an area so close to London could be so beautiful, feel so remote and inspire significant adventure continued well into the late hours.
Having been anxious about the sleep quality of our wild camp, I was pleasantly surprised when I woke up at 5am feeling fresh and rested. The new tent and sleeping matt that I bought gave me one of the better nights sleep I can remember. The sleeping matt has since began to leak, and for that reason I wont recommend that item. However, the tent has continued to serve me well for a year after this post was written. You can buy it here – using this link helps support this page at no additional cost to you!
Drinking coffee on a hill with the early morning sun hitting your face feels so much better knowing you are one of very few who are up early enough to enjoy it. The rarity of these occasions makes them feel significant and precious.
However, I had read enough adventure literature to know that a sunset stroll and a sleep on a hill was not enough to class this as an adventure to my criticising hindsight. So far the adventure had been pleasant, enjoyable and easy. In other words – Type 1 fun.
For those who may be scratching their heads;
Type 1 fun is found when fun is had at every step of the journey. Its pleasant and you enjoy it thoroughly, but you’ve not been challenged.
Type 2 fun is Type 1 funs’ perverse friend. During Type 2 you aren’t actually having fun. It is only after the event when you are suitably warm, dry and full of food, can you reflect on the challenge to fill you with a sense of achievement and fulfillment.
6 hours later the pain through my feet and legs began to make me question why I wasn’t at home, enjoying a relaxing afternoon. I was seriously doubting my decision to be more adventurous. Fighting through the pain, we hiked through fields and over hills racking up the miles that were worth nothing back in the cities we had left behind.
By 5pm on Saturday we were back in the capital and life was going on as if we had never left. I wanted to tell everybody I saw of these glorious chalk hills that were mere hours away from the concrete jungle that surrounded us. The microadventure had injected a quick burst of excitement and wonderlust into my week.
The total trip took less than 24 hours door-to-door, but I experienced something out of my routine, challenging and adventurous. I came back to London a crumpled, smelly and exhausted man. But a happy one.
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