Scuba Diving

Thirteen years ago when I was but a twenty-one year old child, in a fit of decisive madness I did my PADI Open Water scuba diving course. This was during a six week trip through Thailand with a friend on the island of Koh Tao. It was good fun but despite getting the certificate the truth is we were probably too drunk when not doing the diving to have the mental capacity to remember anything. What I took from it though was that I was far happier below the surface of the water than I am on top of it. There is a vulnerability perhaps that disappears when you have a tank of air but more so you can see around you and the unknown becomes slightly less so.

There are still dangers, a rather aggressive and territorial triggerfish threateningly swam between my friends legs and when the instructor pointed this out, much to his consternation us idiots thought he was suggesting we go take a look at the lovely fishy. A few years later when I lived in Ibiza my boss was also a dive instructor and he took me out on a refresher dive. I enjoyed diving generally but having spent a majority of the last ten years as a barefoot traveller climbing in supermarket bins for food, diving has simply been cost prohibitive. Today though, for the first time in ten years I’m going diving.

nine hours later…

I wouldn’t go as far as saying that was fun but I enjoyed it. Sometimes endured it but on the whole enjoyed it. I still struggle a little with equalising and getting my buoyancy right was a continual losing battle but it’s just something that needs a little practise. Ultimately with diving it’s one of those things that you can get better at but the secret is that if or when something happens you just need to avoid panicking. Admittedly making all these statements in four metres of water is one thing and thirty metres deep as you suddenly realise you’ve got a problem with your air and you stuck inside the wreck of some Spanish galleon would be an entirely different thing.

I don’t totally get off on diving but that’s partly because I’m still not very good at it and I do struggle to enjoy the sensation of salt water in my nose and mouth. Being Scottish I always like to believe sea water is to be appreciated from something I can stand on, and not the seabed. Saying that you do feel good after you’ve spent a bit of time in it and the longer around it, the more you want to get in. I imagine living beside the sea for a year and swimming everyday would have a dramatic affect on your outlook in that sense. Anyway, it appears I went and agreed to do my Advanced Open Water this coming week before I return to Scotland so I must have got something out of today.

What’s Going On?

It hasn’t been too much of a strain not knowing what’s going on in the world. In truth I’ve quite enjoyed it. Being oblivious of all the bullshit is quite a liberating experience. I’m not sure how I’ll feel after ten days but I suspect this will be enough of a thing to make me limit my access to news channels in the future. It hasn’t been entirely easy admittedly as there have been moments when I’ve accidentally caught sight of a headline on a website or newspaper stand, or when I’ve gone on Facebook to check my email I’ve seen a little of the first post at the top of my feed. I have found out for example that something has happened with Giselle Maxwell or whatever her name is, you see I can’t go and check, and that Prince Andrew may be in trouble again for sexually manipulating under age girls. I wonder if he’ll give another car crash interview and incriminate himself further, I also wonder whether she has gone and committed suicide yet. Even having conversations with people, I’m trying not to listen to what they say too much as if knowing the news will harm me in some way. It’s strange not being able to respond with knowledge too, I enjoy discussing events.

I discovered that the pubs opened last night. I didn’t find this out from any news source but from having actual conversations with people. I knew pubs were opening soon and part of me actually thought they already were but with my desire for a pint not what it once was I hadn’t bothered to find out anything else on the issue. Living on the main street in this little village means I get to do my best Mediterranean grandmother impression and watch out my window keeping an eye on proceedings. Generally I’m a people watcher so there is a certain pleasure in it but last night I forgot how much watching drunks walking up and down the street was once a thing, and also how quickly we forget what was once normal. In truth it’s actually quite nice to see people in the pubs and being a little drunk, as long as they’re not screaming outside my window all night I’m fine, although that’s what ear plugs are for, and I quite enjoy the streets coming to life again. I loved lockdown in a way, there was such peace and quiet, everything was so paradoxically calm while the world fell apart. But it is nice for life and jovial frivolity to return. I may have just missed it. Maybe I should go and have a pint after all, see what all the fuss is about.

Merry Christmas

Its three o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Day and I’m only having my first drink now. Strangely late for such a typically drunken day, usually my first is with breakfast. It’s funny how today has become such a day of drunken silliness. It’s most people’s day off and what is the one way we now to relax, drink. That is not me being critical either because I actually don’t mind at all, may even be one of my more favourite traditions. The plan today had been to escape to the pub pre-dinner for a few but it appears that there is one thing more important for the Irish than alcohol, apologies for such a ridiculous stereotype, and that is family. Unlike Scotland, there are no pubs open today and while I complain for my personal loss I commend them for not selling their arse entirely like we have, at least for one day. I should find out whether restaurants or pubs with food are open for traditional Christmas lunches for people but I doubt it too.

No real dramas today yet either except for my dog attempting to eat one of the children which was not ideal. I’m hoping for some boardgames later, it’s usually the only day of the year I can persuade my Dad to play something like that so I take full advantage. Most games these days I don’t know though as it seems to be big business again and they’re pumping them out too fast to keep up with. Trivial pursuit was always my favourite but that seems to have fallen by the wayside, and I’ll suspend my avoidance of dice game or any game involving luck for this day only.

There was an article someone had put up on Facebook today which I never bothered reading but it was about the various versions of middle class Christmas we’re experiencing and for sure the one I play will be there. Again, this is not a criticism, it is what it is and I love Christmas, mine is generally a pleasant one, so how could I criticise. It’s more amusing is all. I am currently hiding away in my room writing this and my Dad keeps bringing beers through to me, he is good, he performs a very vital role on these days in particular. Thing is now though I think I could very easily have myself a little pre-dinner nap just to charge the batteries, I’ve certainly not slept enough over these last few days.

That’s it really, I haven’t got much to say today. It’s just Christmas you know.

Movement

I will attempt to write this without sounding like some arse who just wants to boast about all the wonderful adventures I have. It is simply an attempt to give a little background to the person whose words you are hopefully enjoying reading. The reason for this is that today I have arrived in Dublin for a Christmas with relatives over here and I realised I am back abroad again despite the fact I thought I was done with it for this year. Over the last ten or so years I have traveled pretty intensely, convincing myself I’m stopping but ultimately just taking a break. This year I started in Scotland before following this route – Spain – Gibraltar – Spain – Italy – Scotland – Ireland – Scotland – Ireland – Spain – Ireland – Scotland – Sweden – Estonia – Finland – Sweden – Scotland – Australia – Scotland – Spain – England – Ireland – Scotland? Each stay was for a variety of lengths and mostly they were for living, sailing, stag partying and family holidays. It has been quite the year, my carbon footprint must be massive despite the fact I sailed between many of them. Australia alone is the equivalent carbon that I can be allotted for my entire years consumption were we to successfully avoid a two degree rise and ultimate human doom. I don’t regret any of these trips even though it means I am certainly part of the problem. I once spent two years not flying, my high point was the overnight train from Paris to Madrid but I’ve made no attempt to repeat that period of ideological superiority and I don’t mind.

The point is I travel a lot, and after the last trip to Spain I thought I was finished for the year. The question is, will I ever finish. I’ve had many conversations with people who tell me that I am so lucky to be living such a great and free life, and I wince and suffer, I try to explain I’m tired, want some normality and can’t stop despite wanting and being desperate to. And then I’m off again, and so happy in the adventure and discovery once more. For this is a life worth loving but one I can’t bring myself to love anymore until I’m doing it again, or fantasising about such things. People experiencing normality want adventure, and people with constant adventure seem to want normality. What a ridiculous species of monkey we are.

And then I went and got distracted, and drunk…and now I’m drunk. I should leave it there I’ll finish it properly tomorrow.