Go somewhere. Stay one night.
Pick somewhere close enough to reach after work, stay one night and come back the next day. That is basically it.
Here's the entire idea.
Pick somewhere.
Leave after work.
Sleep there.
Come back tomorrow.
That's it.
No annual leave. No airport. No elaborate itinerary. No attempt to discover yourself halfway up a mountain.
Just take one perfectly ordinary evening and spend it somewhere you wouldn't normally be.
Pick somewhere close
The distance isn't the point.
In fact, distance rather gets in the way.
Find somewhere an hour or two from home. A campsite near the coast. A patch of countryside. A forest. Somewhere beside a river. A bothy if you know what you're doing. Even a cheap room in a town you've never had a reason to visit.
You are not trying to get as far away as possible.
You are trying to make going easy enough that you actually go.
Leave work at five and you could be somewhere completely different by seven.
That's enough.
Pack less
You're going away for one night.
This is not an expedition to the South Pole.
If you're camping, take what you need to stay warm, dry, fed and reasonably comfortable.
Enough for one night
- Somewhere safe and legal to sleep
- Something warm
- Water
- Food
- A torch
- Whatever basic kit the weather requires
That's probably enough.
The temptation is to prepare for every conceivable situation until the car contains enough equipment to establish a small forward operating base.
Resist.
Go after work
This is the important bit.
Don't save it for the mythical free weekend when nothing else is happening.
Use a normal day.
Finish work. Get changed. Pick up your bag. Leave.
There is something particularly satisfying about the moment the usual evening disappears behind you.
Normally you would be making dinner, putting the television on or doing whatever Tuesday usually contains.
Instead you're driving towards the coast.
Or walking through a wood.
Or sitting outside a tent with something hot to eat while it gets dark.
Tuesday has suddenly become considerably better.
Sleep somewhere different
It doesn't need to be spectacular.
You don't need a perfect sunset.
You don't need to photograph it.
You don't need to call it a micro-adventure.
Have some food. Walk around. Sit outside if the weather allows it. Read something. Talk to whoever came with you.
Then sleep.
Perhaps badly.
Camping has never guaranteed luxury.
But waking somewhere unfamiliar does something peculiar to time. Yesterday evening feels further away than it really is.
Make coffee. Eat something. Look around.
Then pack up.
Come back tomorrow
By lunchtime, you can be home.
The entire thing might have lasted less than 18 hours.
Yet it can feel strangely substantial.
Perhaps because most weekdays are repetitions. We travel along familiar roads, sit in familiar rooms and sleep in the same bed.
One night somewhere else interrupts the pattern.
That's all this needs to be.
Not an expedition.
Not a challenge.
Not something impressive enough to become a documentary.
Just go somewhere.
Stay one night.
Come back tomorrow.