Those of us who’ve done our share of challenging, far-flung, sometimes exotic, adventures are often susceptible to restlessness and general malaise when we stay too long at home. Though I love the routines and comforts—my books, the fireplace, the garden, Land Rovers, and good coffee—round about February I’m sometimes beset with wanderlust. There’s a sense that time is ticking away and I’m wasting my good health only reading (or watching movies) about people doing interesting things out in the world. It’s when big plans are schemed, tickets are booked, and gear sorted. Some may call it FOMO (“fear of missing out”), others chalk it up to seasonal affective disorder after a long, dark, season. Regardless, this winter has been a little softer than most, with negligible snow and balmy weather. But a year ago I had already been ice diving and was in the middle of a weeklong trip to dive in French Polynesia. I craved a bit of an adventure.
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