Christmas Day is rarely noted for its frantic exercise. This year however, rather than just fall asleep in front of a rubbish film, my brother and I decided to brave the elements and head out.
Weston-Super-Mare may be full of grandmothers and bingo halls but it’s also blessed with an enormous beach. Despite the recent snow the sky was clear and we could easily see the ten miles across the sea to Wales. We wrapped ourselves up against the cold and breathed in the sharp, fresh air, which invigorated us after spending so much time cooped up in a stuffy house.
Weston beach is usually full of people on dirt bikes, windsurfers and kiteboarders. On Christmas afternoon, with the tide a very long way out, the beach was almost empty. Over an hour or so we passed only a dozen or so people, mostly couples or families out walking the dogs. It was one of those rare occasions where you have something to say to each and everyone of them, “Merry Christmas’.
Leaving the town centre behind, we meandered towards Brean Down, the promontory at the southern end of the bay. As we did so, the sun began to set behind the headland. Despite the fact that sunsets happen everyday, I rarely take the time to appreciate them or have the chance to see them in their full glory, marred as they frequently are by London’s buildings. This one was glorious.
It may not be much of an adventure, but to a city girl like me it’s a thrill to stand somewhere without crowds and take the time to watch a sunset from start to finish. Even now I’m home, it inspired me to go outside this evening and have a look at the sunset. Even buried behind London houses, it’s still glorious.
This LittleBigAdventure was contributed by Lorna Robinson.
It had been a cold, grey, damp winter. The cloud had barely lifted off the hills for more than a few hours in months. The bare trees were covered in moss and dripped continuously. It felt like we hadn’t been out to play for weeks.
Then one night the cloud disappeared and it was clear. No moon meant dark skies and the stars leapt out of the inky blackness. The Milky Way traversed from horizon to horizon.
Donning head torches, two friends and I walked up into the old quarries behind the village, built a fireplace from some pieces of slate and lit a fire. Under the stars we toasted marshmallows and put the world to rights. There was a cold wind but lots of layers and the fire kept us warm.
It was gone midnight when we picked our way through the slag heaps and back to our homes. Our eyes were red and our hair and clothes smelt of smoke but it didn’t matter, it was just nice to have been out doing something.
That’s where LittleBigAdventures come in. Sometimes just doing something is enough. Explore a local stream in your kayak, spend the night out in a sea cave or turn your neighbourhood woods into a downhill track.
LittleBigAdventures are about getting out there and living adventurously when adventure seems far away. Sometimes they are as much about the people as the place. Coasteer along a new bit of coastline, abseil into a disused quarry or swim across a lake.
Just go out and do something.
And if you do, let us know and we’ll post it here. Take photos, write some words and inspire others to get out there.
I previously linked to The Dirtbag Diaries, one of my favourite podcasts. It’s creator, Fitz Cahall, has a new project, a web tv series following a group of adventurers and outdoor enthusiasts doing what they love. If it’s half as good as the Dirtbag Diaries, it should be worth a watch.
“From the creators of The Dirtbag Diaries and 49 Megawatts comes a new web television project following the five athletes through the course of a single season in Pacific Northwest. A veteran climber invents a new piece of gear. A pro snowboarder searches for a way to return to the roots of his sport. A boulderer returns from a series of injuries with new perspective. A family man goes to Whistler to test himself against the mountain biking’s elite. A young sea kayaker with a troubled past sets out to reinvent his sport.”
A striking and touching New Year’s Eve message delivered by author Neil Gaiman at Symphony Hall in Boston.
May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.
…I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you’ll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you’ll make something that didn’t exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.
Oil companies have a pretty shaky environmental record but most of them are at least coming to the realisation that they are not using an infinite resource. This 1962 advert shows that this wasn’t always the case (click on the image for a larger version)
Weston beach is usually full of people on dirt bikes, windsurfers and kiteboarders. On Christmas afternoon, with the tide a very long way out, the beach was almost empty. Over an hour or so we passed only a dozen or so people, mostly couples or families out walking the dogs. It was one of those rare occasions where you have something to say to each and everyone of them, “Merry Christmas’.
A striking and touching New Year’s Eve message delivered by author 
