Page 3 of Alluring Adventure

Actually, that’s not fair, it was more of a mutually agreed divorce. We just married too young and grew apart. There was no drama, no crying, no screaming, just a grown-up agreed separation. That was six years ago and I haven’t spoken to him since. We didn’t have children so we’re simply no longer in each other’s lives.

I push the heavy door to my room open. Well, room is an understatement. The hotel management upgraded me to one of their amazing suites.

I love this hotel and especially the reception hall. In all my time as a travel blogger I don’t think I have ever stayed in a hotel that I loved as much as the Greenview Manor Hotel. It has a cosy and warm feel to it despite its upmarket set up and its rich history is just everywhere.

What can I say? I’m a sucker for period buildings.

I’ve been here for two weeks now and although writing about the highlights of the Lake District isn’t really one of my more exciting assignments—hence my earlier joke—the stay at the Greenview Manor has certainly made a difference to how I see Fellside.

I miss being able to choose destinations to review. When I owned my blog I had the freedom to do as I pleased but my income was limited. Now that one of the largest travel companies in the UK has bought my platform, they decide where I need to go next and it’s usually dictated by the special offers they want to drive sales to. But at least I no longer have to take on dictation work for law firms on the side. I hated not beingable to focus on my latest blog post because it just wasn’t paying the bills.

The sale of my platform gave me a nice nest egg and given how popular the blog was—I was just shit in monetising the popularity—the new owner kept me on to continue exploring the world for my readers.

“Write about the adventures people can have in Fellside,” my editor has instructed me. Adventures, ha! It’s a sleepy little mountain village. The most exciting thing I’ve found so far is the massive cinnamon buns at the local bakery. Don’t get me wrong, I’m actually enjoying this slower life, the views and the amazing coffee shops. My life has been full on over the last few years and I feel tired. The time here has been relaxing and refreshing. But it has also provided me with limited action packed things to write about. My followers are in their late twenties and thirties. Unlike me, cake and sheep aren’t their idea of a good time

My eyes fall on the brochure I still clench in my fist. I try to smooth out some of the wrinkles before unfolding it.

Oliver hadn’t exaggerated; they certainly offer a large number of adventures. There’s something for everyone. I eye the paragliding for a moment; it’s been on my bucket list for a while. I’ve tried rock climbing before and it’s not really for me. But canyoning looks like fun as well.

There is a distant rumbling. Leaning back on the window seat I scan the sky where dark clouds approach from the other side of the lake. My room has a stunning view of Lake Windermere and the surrounding hills and for the last week I’ve spent every daywriting my blog from here. There is no more inspiring place than this.

And just like that, the gnawing feeling returns in my tummy. I’ve felt it a few times whenever I think about my impending departure from Fellside. I feel oddly at home here. Ever since I arrived, I’ve experienced a sense of belonging that I haven’t felt in years. Until now, I’ve enjoyed my nomadic lifestyle—Morocco one week, Oregon the next. I never know where I’ll be heading and I’ve thrived on that unpredictability. But over time, constantly being away has meant losing touch with many friends and it makes for a lonely life which is becoming exhausting.

Fellside’s charm hit me the minute I set my foot in it. I’m an observer, wherever I go; I like to observe people to get the feel of a place. It helps me to recreate the atmosphere when writing about it and in some circumstances it has also protected me from bad things happening.

What I have seen at Fellside is typical village life that I sneered at when I was younger. But I’m forty now—well almost—and I’m tired. Settling down somewhere, having a chat with a neighbour, meeting friends for a meal and maybe even falling in love again; the prospect of anormallife sounds better and better.

But I’m not here for me. I’m here for my readers and they want some action. I wonder if Oliver leads all of these adventures. He did mention that he took these women paragliding. Hmmm, I’m sure if I post a photo of him and mention that you get strapped to this hunk, he'll be inundated with bookings. He can be his company’s own thirst trap.

Oliver has one of these lean but firm climber bodies I have noticed around the village a lot. They don’t look like gym rats but when they flex their arms you can see the shirt tightening across their chest—something Oliver demonstrated nicely earlier by crossing his arms. His shirt practically became a second skin and I could see the outlines of his defined pecs.Holy moly, how horny am I?I mean, the last casual dating thing I had ended two months ago when I left Turkey. But still. One look at a mountain man and I’m going gaga.

But he wasn’t just like any of the other fitties I’ve seen. There’s something a bit different about Oliver, something I can’t put my finger on.

I google a few videos of paragliding and canyoning. They both look quite cool and definitely something my editor would approve of and my readers would love. My phone screen shows about ten thousand notifications but none of them are private messages. They are all from followers on my blog and I’m ignoring them for now. Once a week I spend two hours going through them and replying to the odd one, just enough to show I’m engaging with them. It’s not that I’m ungrateful; these people allow me to travel the world. But I get so many that replying to them would be a full time job

Me

How does paragliding or canyoning sound?

The text takes a few seconds to send—reception isn’t the best in Fellside—but this time it doesn’t take long for the small blue tick to show. I don’t even have time to put my phone down before a response comes through.

Mark

Perfect. Stick to canyoning though. We just did a piece about paragliding in Zermatt.

Me

Aye Aye Sir!

There is no reply from Mark. He is a matter of fact editor and I don’t think I’ve ever had a personal conversation with him. We talk business and nothing more.

Alright then!Stuffing my mobile in my back pocket I head back down to the lobby. It’s pathetic I know, but I catch myself carefully peeking around the corner to see if Oliver is still at reception. The lobby is a hot-adventure-man-free zone, though.

Relieved, I take a deep breath and head over to Marisa.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she smirks. “Oliver isnice, isn’t he?”

---