Climbing trees

Before going for the traditional curry and booze evening on my brother's restrained stag night, his son took us for a couple of hours climbing trees and swinging from ropes in a forest. The Tarzan-style afternoon out was stupidly fun, with rope-walks, zip-wire descents and awkward traverses high up in the trees. In some way it was a shame that we had to use so much safety equipment: I'd forgotten how much fun I have, climbing trees. In spite of the pouring rain and general filthy mud on the ground, we all had a great time.

Climbing trees was one of my favourite activities when I was very young. I can still remember hiding in the bushes on the railway embankment behind our house when I was five or so, then climbing the ash tree at the bottom of our garden at the next house, and the tree-house between the holly and beech in my friends' garden. It's difficult to walk past a perfect climbing tree without wanting to at least climb up to the first set of branches and either sit and survey the world, or swing below them. It's one thing missing from our garden in Bristol - but there's just not enough room.


:0)