What a change from one week to the next! Almost everything is different, the transport, the accommodation, the rock, the water, the people etc etc but there is one constant and that is having fun. It feels a little strange coming from a situation climbing with a group of really talented experienced climbers, where most of the hard projects have already been completed. To climbing in an area where there are still lots of unclimbed lines and you are only one of a few in the group who can climb them. I couldn’t really say if one was better or more enjoyable than the other, they are just different.
I have climbed for three days in the Costa Blanca so far. The first I ran around like a headless chicken, trying and climbing what may be new routes until I ran out of energy and crashed. Maybe I have got used to being able to stimulate my body and mind with Red Bull whenever I feel tired, but since the never ending supply has vanished, and I now have to pay through the nose, I no longer have the luxury. Since then I have tried to be a little more controlled and have relaxed a lot more. There is plenty to keep me entertained when I am not climbing, like wearing Man-kinis...
On one of the mornings, Rich Mayfield shouted “today is man-kini day” which I think was a very spur of the moment decision, but everyone got fully involved. Not wanting to be left out of the fun and games, I too trotted off to Carrefour in search of large ladies pants that would stretch over my shoulders. After a lot of procrastinating over which colour and style would best suit, I settled on a size 46, black thong. Very tasteful I thought.
Once we arrived at the destination for the day, it was time to “man-up” as Rich had taken to calling it. There were some interesting moments when learning where to put my various bits and pieces and the cameras were out to catch all the action. Fortunately my little man, who is actually quite camera shy, somehow managed to avoid the paparazzi and my bluest snapshots only involved a rouge testicle or two.
Once everyone had manned-up, it was man-kini time, and here are the results.
Suprisingly, I found my little black number to be very liberating and am beginning to understand the attraction that certain gentlemen seem to have for them. My only criticism, which I am sure would be rectified if I actually bought one the right size that was designed for men, is that it doesn’t half chafe my arse crack.
My man-kini has played a fairly big role in the rest of my week, even wearing it to throw myself off a very tall bridge. It will also be accompanying me tonight to the “Hugh Heffners Playboy Mansion” end of week party. I think I will fit in a treat with the rest of the bunnys.