What could possibly go wrong?

Many, many things. That’s what.

Since deciding to go ahead with this adventure I’ve had to start dealing with all the issues and worries I had shrugged off with an ‘I’m sure it will be fine’ when the idea was still a pipe dream. This means I now have to inform colleagues of my impending death, sorry – exciting adventure, book flights, sort insurance and a multitude of other things. As well as working out a way of finding enough water in the middle of a desert, during the dry season.

This is also the time when I test my family members’ willingness to be positive – not an intention, I promise…although it is nice to be reminded that the idea of me doing this raises more than an ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine’. Ironic, I know.

…seriously concerned about your aim to cross the Kalahari on a bike, during the dry season…

Mum – 2015

One policy I’ve been experimenting with is not dealing with them.  On the face of it that sounds either stupid or, well, really stupid. In reality I’d rather call it foolhardy. My theory is that if I think about the problems I might not find a solution but if I ignore them I’ll be forced to deal with them when they arise. I think it’s genius.

The only difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has limits.

Mum – 2015

I do at least have the support of friends, well some of them. There seems to be a popular (I think wrong) thought that it sounds like an exciting thing to do but not something that anyone would actually consider doing themselves. Something that would be an awesome story to tell at a bar but not necessarily much fun.

I don’t wish to sound negative but (…) you are…….a talented amateur…… (…) are you sure that you can do this?

Dad – 2015

There’s an interesting theory I’ve seen floating about that explains three distinct versions of fun. Type I fun is the standard kind – good food, good friends and good laughs. Type II fun is slightly different, it’s terrifying at the time and can feel like a really bad idea but afterwards you look back on it as one of the most enjoyable moments of your life. Then there’s Type III fun – this is truly awful at the time, in the “I’m not even joking right now, this is fucking terrible and I want to go home right now” kind of way. Even at the pub the next day you look back at Type III fun and think it was a terrible idea but maybe, a year or so later you think perhaps it wasn’t quite as bad as you thought.

…realise that the advice on the FCO website tends to concentrate on the dangers, but…

Mum – 2015

 

I’d get a discount on next year’s Christmas tree though so bear that in mind

Me – 2015

Well that’s okay then.