Diary of a Seasoned Seasonaire.

Do you remember that feeling? The feeling that starts on the back of your neck and tingles across your back, the feeling that winds its way into the bottom of your lungs and the elations that fills your heart.

I do.

Not many times in my life have I felt that way, but when I gazed upon the alps from the comfort of the Citroen I was riding in, that feeling hit me quite hard.

Two weeks earlier I had been sitting in bland office, aching back and typing slowly and rhythmically into my computer. I was supposed to be making sales for the local golf course but I had lost all drive for the monotonous phone calls and form filling that was require to do my role. A lowly educated young man, I sat, pondering what my future held, I had never been to uni, never taken A levels for that matter, I had completed a college course once but the variety of jobs that followed didn't exactly relate. My options were running low and I had the personal and career direction of a sporadic squirrel.

My days would roll into the night and the evenings were drawing in as they do in November. England in the winter months is not the most fun place to be and my routine would continue of avoiding people and situations, but there I sat with the comfort of my brother and the glow from the screen, flashing images from the Xbox, the chatter between us would bring alive California sun, future aspirations and current opinions that we felt we knew best on. We would talk as brothers do, there is nothing like talking as brothers do.

I nearly came close to ending it you know, I knew I needed to make a change, the fog in my mind was clogging the decisions that I really needed to make and the option it was leaving me with was not a comfortable one. I longed for something, an itch that needed scratching and the adventure I was about to embark on was something I never imagined was possible.