One of the greatest adventurers that I have had the pleasure to meet doesn’t wear head to toe khaki, she doesn’t own a flap hat or a ‘leatherman’ nor does she have all the latest and greatest gadgets. She hasn’t crossed a continent on foot or by bike, nor has she visited the north or south pole, Everest or the desert. She’s skilfully disguised. If you saw her in the street you would probably smile or return her ‘hello’ and keep on walking without giving her a second thought.
In the sixties she boarded a plane with her husband and three children under five. They flew to the opposite side of the globe, to a country they knew little about, where they didn’t speak the language and had no contacts or friends to welcome them. She hoped to provide a better life for her children. There was no return ticket, no back-up plan and no safety net. As you can imagine in the following the years she had to be adaptable, intuitive, innovative and adventurous to establish a place is this new society for herself and her family.
I met her many years later. She was fifty when I was born. I’ve been lucky enough to witness her adventurous and rebellious streak shining through as strong as ever. I was there when she was adamant on learning how to drive a scooter in Rarotonga at 78 years old. Consequently she broke some ribs but kept that quiet as she didn’t want anyone to ruin her holiday. A few days later she tackled snorkelling. As the watery world of dazzling fish darting amongst the coral appeared before her she was on her way, weaving around in hot pursuit of the colourful fish. She adapted to a changing world by learning to use a fax machine, then a computer, then Facebook. One day I caught her downloading Dutch movies onto a USB stick to play through her TV. She discovered that the government money put aside for the rebuild of her earthquake – destroyed house was gathering interest. Before any more ‘sensible’ family members found out she spent it on something very important and essential: a cruise.
Years later I met two very young adventurers equally well disguised. These two also hadn’t travelled to the extremes of our world but had discovered wonders and achieved amazing feats mere kilometers from their home. Their sharp eyes and inquisitive natures meant even the smallest detail caught their eye. Every outing was an exploration into an unknown world.
They visited the same rock pool almost every day for years hence observing the intricacies of the lives of its inhabitants and invaders. They wobbled on unsteady feet around the rim of the pool at low tide, held tight to the surrounding rocks during stormy days and floated over with snorkel masks at high tide. They told me one day that ‘a tree is not just a tree. It’s a home and each one is special’. A rotten log on the side of the path is fascinating. It could be home to a Giant Weta, mushrooms might be growing off the side or a bird might be nesting in its depths.
Adventure isn’t exclusive. Adventure isn’t reserved only for those who endeavor to be the first, or the longest or the fastest. We are no longer in the nineteenth century so our perception of what an ‘adventurer’ is needs to change with the times. It calls for us to be imaginative and innovative, to take risks and face fears. Adventures can take place in any aspect of your life. Relationships are maybe the biggest adventures of all, changing your direction and beginning a new career, doing something radical or spontaneous, learning a new skill, anything that places you outside your comfort zone.