Parkour.

My wife decides she wants to quit smoking and that I should support her. I can understand and agree to that, no problem. Giving up smoking takes a lot of will power and any help should be offered.

Then, she says she wants to climb the nearest mountain because it will do her good. I was hoping to find an excuse not to go but couldn’t. I was hoping to support her from sea level but it was not to be. Apparently, on top of mountains is the best kind of support for people withdrawing from nicotine can have.

It had to be the hottest day of the year when she wanted to climb that mountain. Oh joy of joys! Because we lard arses just love physical exercise in the heat. We wish for nothing more than sweating from head to toe.

Hottest day of the year and my wife says, «I have new route we should try.»

Turns out to be the steepest way to climb the mountain. Could this day get any better?

As we climbed, you guessed it, I’m sweating and cursing………to myself of course! I’m being supportive remember.

I notice on the way up that the trees have no branches on the lowest part of their trunks. Just really short sharp broken branches approximately five centimeters long and incredibly pointy. I’m guessing this is where deer have boken off the branches as they pass the trees and use them to scratch on. They remind me of the spikey trees you find in tropical rain forests. These trees are called «Bastard Trees» because when you stumble and reach out to them, the spikes stab into your hand and you shout «Bastard!» as a reaction.

Despite being the warmest day of the year, the ground was still wet and swamp like. I’m so glad I brought my trainers instead of my hiking boots. Still, the sweat in my socks stopped the water from penetrating to my skin.

Above the tree line (where no trees grow), the sun was really beating down on us. I’d like to say it was fantastic feeling the sun on my skin but we all know I would be lying.

The climb was so steep that we had to use our hands on the rocks at times to help pull ourselves up.

So, sunburned, sweaty and breathing like I have just reached the surface after being trapped underwater for an hour, we reach the summit. With my thighs burning, we settled down for a rest and to enjoy the view. I don’t remember all those spots on the view last time but everywhere I looked there were spots.

After a short rest I decided to support my wife again on the way down. I can tell you now, giving up smoking is really really hard. I think it was quite difficult for my wife too.

We went down the same way we had come up. There was no way to tackle the big rocks on the way down except to jump from rock to rock. There is nothing we sweaty, tired and gasping-for-air Fatties love to do more, than to jump from rock to rock down a steep mountain side. I can only compare it to those youngsters who leap from building to building in the inner cities. Parkour, I think it is called.

Okay, so I am not somersaulting and rolling around but I am jumping. As I leap from rock to rock, which got even worse when we entered the tree line again, I would shout, silently to myself, PARKOUR! Each time I landed.

Unfortunately, the last conversation I had with myself went like this. «Parkour!………Parkour!………Parkour!…….Par..(stumble)...Kkkour…(slip)…..Uh oh, Uh oh,….(trip)… Oh no, Oh no, aaarrgh, TREE!..........BASTARD!!!!!!