Time to go big on a microadventure

these things locally, and package them up in a way to show that this wasn’t a “lesser” form of adventure? That would perhaps please a travelling public who are turning away from traditional twoweek holidays in favour of short breaks.

I began trying to squeeze the biggest adventures I could out of little old Britain. I called them microadventures. Climbing Scottish ridges, cycling across the country, packrafting through the Shetlands: these were definite adventures, but, I realised, still too challenging, remote, time-consuming or specialised for most people.

To make it more accessible, I needed my microadventures to target the obstacles people were facing. Rather than showing off about my own escapades, it would be better to urge people to think about what was stopping them getting out and find a way round it.

Adventure is too expensive? Canoeing down a river requires lots of gear and support. But four of us invested in tractor inner tubes (total cost £50) and spent a magnificent summer’s day drift- ing downstream, our wrapped in plastic bags.

Adventure is too complicated? Keeping a microadventure simple is essential to turn a nagging feeling of longing into actually getting out there. One day I just jumped on my bike and cycled to the sea. Seeing the sea is always good for the soul. Nobody in the UK lives more than about 70 miles from the coast.

Adventure requires living in a cabin in the mountains? To challenge my own assumption that you need to fly to Patagonia before anything can vaguely be called an adventure, I walked a lap of the M25. This motorway is hardly a byword for adventure, but imagine my surprise to find that it passes through pockets of beautiful woodland, streams and snowy hilltops. Adventure is a mindset, not a destination. camping gear

Alastair Humphreys is the author of He was named a Adventurer of the Year for his microadventures campaign.

Take a break in Morocco, above; Alastair Humphreys, left