This week’s theme on The Gallery is Adventure.
Hmm. Not known for being adventurous this meant a rummage through the archives again. And then it struck me. The adventure that nearly killed us.
Well that is slightly over dramatic but Mr B has his moments of being a bit of a daredevil. And not wanting to be seen as a wuss I go along with it.
Let me set the scene
Summer of 2007. We were in Cyprus, staying at my parent’s place, en famille. They offered to have the children for an afternoon so Mr B and I could go off and explore. Mr B got the map out and said “I quite fancy that bit up there on the left”. You can picture Cyprus can’t you? Think of Usain Bolt’s silouette when he points to the top left of the page and you have it.
Well along that bit of Cyprus there is a road.
I say road
I mean dirt track.
I say dirt track. I mean the edge of a cliff.
But at the end of it there was a beach.
So off we went.
I have to say this adventure scared the sweet beejebus out of me. And I think if you ask him, probably out of Mr B too.
At one point we had to go around a corner but the rocks were falling every time we drove over them. Falling off the cliff. Off the edge of Cyprus itself. I got out of the car (not so much in a ballast shifting exercise) but to “stand here so the car can’t go off the edge. If you reverse and it slips, I will stop it”.
Yes those words came out of my mouth.
At which point Mr B asked me politely to move
I suggested my plan was a good one
He suggested I feckin’ move.