Wide-open spaces

MALVERN

The Celtic name Moel-brynmeans Bare-Hill

(a later spelling was) Maelfern

Regardless of how you spell it, say it, yell it, pronounce it or proclaim it... it was a balm onto my very soul. A very lovely friend, invited me to breathe some fresh air and discover some of the wide open spaces of England.

It all started out in the usual crazy way, associated with all things Mishy..!! My auntie (on mums side) has a very good friend, whose son moved to England about the same time that I did. Yet despite the decreased land-mass, we have not yet had the opportunity to meet. (busy lives and all that). In between emails and long-distance journeys to visit family, we became buddies.

In an act of craziness, I invited myself to visit him... Thankfully he was (and is) a very gracious and generous sort of person, who responded with the most amazing idea. Brad suggested I join him and a few fellow mountain-biking enthusiasts for a relatively easy ride on Saturday. Now... I can ride a bike and run a few kilometres, so how hard could it be??

Hmmmm ... that is completely relative. If having your butt whipped, by people at least 20 years your senior is easy ... then easy it was. About 1/2 way around the ride, we lost some people to the pub. If I had realised that we still had the hard bits to go, I may have joined them.

When Brad suggested a 'relatively easy' mountain bike ride, I believed him. In actual fact... it was relatively easy - for him and his mates. For a girl who is more commonly seen breathing in London smog, it was the straw that nearly broke my hamstrings and biceps. It was only the reality of being the only person (and the youngest) to not make it back without a car escort, that stopped me from getting off the bike and throwing a tantrum and insisting I never get back on a bike.

There is something incredibly satisfying about conquering your pain and looking back on a physical challenge completed. So ... although I may not have really conquered the hills (I walked the hard bits) ... I still finished. And as I kept telling myself ... it is not a competition. After a long, hot bath and a glass of red wine... it seemed all too easy to try again soon. I'm not entirely sure how soon, but at least I know it is possibly to push the boundaries of sanity and still survive to tell the story.

So .. whilst I don't have pictures of the actual ride, I do have some glory to share of the 'Homestead'. It was the glorious house that I stayed whilst conquering my hills. It was like staying in a fairy tale...

I was staying in the room with the window on the top-right corner. The sumptuous wonder of it all still makes me sigh inwardly. Inside was just as glorious ...

Okay ... so ignore the unmade bed... that is me on holiday mode. But the natural light pouring into my room, made me just want to jump up and run around in circles... It took me a while to figure out where I was on Saturday morning... But that made figuring it out all the sweeter.

All-in-all ... a weekend filled with fun, friendship, wine, coffee (good stuff too, not crazy powder coffee), and new sights is all a girl could really ever need.