Lovely Morocco

Blimey! It's nearly the end of August!

Well, I completed my trek through the Atlas Mountains, and fell in love with Morocco. We did 320Kms in 17 days - some days walking for 10-11 hours. The first couple of days were exhausting and I doubted whether I was fit enough for it, but I found my walking legs by the third day and the whole trek was amazing. For 17 days the most difficult decision I had to make was whether to pander to the gods of international capitalism and have a Coke at the end of the day. It was a strain having to face 11 other people over breakfast every morning (especially on the many days that breakfast was at 6 in the morning), but apart from that it was a great experience.

Right at the end we climbed Jbel Toubkal, the highest mountain in North Africa (4100m) and I cried - of course in that quiet English off in a corner way - there were points this year when I didn't think that I would be able to do it, but I did. I don't like all this 'cancer survivor' stuff - it makes it seem like the illness is your whole identity, which with thyroid cancer it most definitely isn't, but still I felt proud of myself for making it through the trek - and with no alcohol and a minimal amount of swearing.

Now I'm back and the cold harsh reality is that I have another bout of Radioactive iodine treatment in the middle of October. I'd arranged the date already with the lovely women in the radioactive isotope dept although as always I've had no official notification of this. We're back to my old complaint - how can you try to keep your life normal when you're never really sure whats happening when? I'm still pretty chilled out from being on holiday so I'm not going to get wound up by THEM (whoever THEY are) but I wish they'd get their bloody act together.

Here's a pic of what I've been walking through for nearly three weeks. The pictures are in my head and I can't quite believe that it happened. Walking your feet off has got to be one of the best therapies there is if you can.