I stare at the lifeless pieces of cloth draped over the infuriatingly fiddly clothes horse and something catches my attention: A t-shirt I purchased whilst travelling in Egypt. Suddenly visions of pyramids, dry desert winds caressing golden sands and turquoise oceans intoxicate my mind. I think its time to shake things up.

A letter to a friend
When planning a big shake up it's always good to have an accomplice; so that you have someone else to appreciate the level of shaking up you’ve achieved. I know just the man for the job. He’s an Irish friend living in Johannesburg and goes by name of, yes, Paddy. With his mix of charismatic Irish charm and adventuring spirit I know I’ve got the perfect candidate. So I immediately set about writing him an email...

Mark...

Paddy! Slightly bored with things at the moment and was thinking about doing something radical. No, not like the time I ruined your honeymoon (I’ll leave that one for another time) but an excursion of sorts. Any thoughts?

The reply arrives first thing in the morning.

Paddy...

Well, I’ve a plan for you!! How's about you and I travel from Cape Town to Cork (in Ireland) together. You could write and I could take pics — with a sub-text of the cuisine we enjoy along the way! Sorta part travel tips and cook book? D'ya think it'll work?

Mark...

Brilliant! That’s a dream I've been nursing since I was a wee lad. Well, some sort of crazy road trip anyway; like Jack Kerouac in 'On the Road', but much less confusing. My first idea was to do one across America — Route 66, big Cadillac and all that. But Cape Town to Cork will do splendidly. Sign me up! We'll be the male version of Thelma and Louise without the driving over the cliff bit…

Paddy...

Once we're through Africa (assuming we start in Cape Town) we'll still have a few dodgy European countries to contend with; like Bosnia for example. So if we don't get murdered along the East coast, there's a fair chance we'll cop it in Europe. But if we make it through there then it's plain sailing through France etc to London and then across the ferry to Dublin, finishing in Cork!!

Mark...

I'm thinking Michael Palin meets Keith Floyd meets Bill & Ted... I'm thinking BIG! I'm thinking sitting on remote beaches/deserts/fathomless rocky landscapes. I'm thinking young native women; their olive/black skin shining with the sweet, shimmering sweat from a hard days washing by the river/ladling beer into my mouth from a coconut/calabash/keg. I'm thinking getting lost/looking danger straight in the eye/facing up to our demons. I'm thinking ADVENTURE! Is that what you're thinking?

Paddy...

Paradise waits for no man...

Abso-bloody-lutely! I say YES! to sharing a meal of sheep's eyes and monkey brains (as long as it tastes like chicken) with nomads in the Serengeti. I say yes to sampling new and exotic substances that leaves you paralysed whilst entering the spirit world and finding your true inner animal identity (as long as it's not a weasel; that would be very disappointing).

Bring on the scantily clad women who are intrigued and excited by our international ways and firm judging chins. I say "you're welcome" to the parents of the child who's life we will have saved by demonstrating the Heimlich manoeuvre ... and subsequently having a whole village renamed the "Land of Mark & Paddy" in some African/Arabic hybrid language.

Of course we may have to marry the odd daughter of a few chiefs here and there, if only to be polite, but that won't deter us from the true purpose of this epic; spiritual journey... oh no... I'm thinking books, a series of books. A TV series or a new kind of reality TV game show... but most of all I’m thinking... A six month holiday!

The Lord giveth. The muppet taketh away.
And so this little email exchange gave birth to a great plan. A plan of such promise and life affirming qualities that it made me very excited.

Now a normal person would stop and realise that Paddy’s wife might not be too enthralled by her hubby disappearing off on a madcap adventure while things like financial security, mortgages and that loose tile in the bathroom lurk beg for attention. Said normal person would obviously have to introduce the idea slowly and subtly.

The very same normal person would also know that if said plan were to be unveiled to the wife’s best friend, the wife would undoubtedly find out about it. On the other hand a non-normal person, also known as a complete idiot, would probably, in a state of wild enthusiasm, forward that chain of emails to the wife’s best friend. You can put the rest together yourself...

And so, to end this tale of fallen promise, I will leave you with the following email I received from Paddy after what must have been a severe roasting.

Paddy...

You absolute muppet!