Andalusia

For the first time in five years, I’ve had a trip: Andalusia, Spain.

Staying in a small mountain town, I’d hike – early morning or early evening – along the ridge of the Rio Chiller mountains, where the town got their water. Bit scary walking along a sheer drop once the sun’s set, but it’s the best place I’ve ever read a book. Higher than Snowdon, with a view of the sea.

Not knowing when I would next get to travel, I went out every day. Backpacking along the dry riverbed between the mountains, down to the sea. I thought I was a keen swimmer until I realised it’s also been five years since I last swam. I was pretty shit.

With three weeks’ straight work either side of the trip on The Edinburgh TV Festival, Operation Ouch, and BGT – often with twelve-hour days – I was violently sick first day back in Croydon (some may relate). But I’m most myself when I’m travelling, so it was worth it.

And to cap it off, as there was no spare room where I was staying, I slept under the stars on the terrace for the week. It’s mad how many shooting stars you can see in real dark.

I also made friends with a stray dog, pictured below.