ma ho paura

In a fit of greediness, and despite having only recently returned from two weeks in a destination 12 hours non-stop flight away, I'll be running away again this weekend to southern Europe. Though perhaps not ideal, I'll be travelling alone to go on a hiking trip in a small area thought to be one of the most ecologically diverse on the continent; I'm very happy about this because I've put off making the trip since 1998 on account of bad timing and money. While it's something that I'd rather share (the handsome chappie has commitments besides me, which is reasonable, if not a tear-worthy tragedy) it seems like a shame to pass up on such an opportunity.

What irks me about the unfathomably low cost of air travel within continental Europe (fares can be as low as a penny (£0.01), with only tax to be paid) is that it sometimes it puts you in ridiculous situations. For example, I arrive back on Thursday afternoon, go to work on Friday, then depart for the airport on Friday evening upon leaving work only to return to the country I've just arrived back from in order to visit the prospective in-laws. That second trip was booked before the first, but as it transpires, remaining there overnight and then taking a 400 kilometre internal train ride to the other end of the country would have cost more than twice the cost of the flight back to London post-hike. Not to mention the fact that I get in a full day of work at hourly pay, which pays for the flight back and then some. Nuts, me reckons.

There could be worse things to take issue with, I suppose, and provided I survive my solo stint in the non-English speaking, no-tourists-here-sonny, treacherous-if-beautiful and generously orchidaceous mountain wilderness, it'll make a markedly jet-set, tasty, refreshing and hopefully enjoyable change to the norm.

And hey, fuckin'ell, a post!