'I get up in the early morning and go to our little community gym in town. Then I come home and do e-mails; I have children from all around the world writing to me - amputees. Then I'll either skip out my back door to Mount Dunblane, take the two golden retrievers and just climb, or leap onto my mountain bike. Then I come back and do more e-mails. In mid-morning, Anne, my wife, and I go out to our local coffee shop to have coffee, read the papers and catch up with all our friends in the village.
We live 130km inland from Christchurch, in Hanmer Springs, New Zealand. I commute two or three times a week to the airport, jump on a plane and go somewhere in New Zealand or Australia to give a motivational talk to a conference, a corporate group or a school charity then escape back home again. Where we live is a real place of rejuvenation. There are hot springs, thermal pools on the side of a mountain; it's the sort of place where you turn your radio off, sit back and soak up the environment.
In the time leading up to Christmas, I was still doing my wine consulting. It involves a trip up to Melbourne, to where the vineyards are, once a week or so. I always think we shouldn't be called 'consultants'. We should be called 'insultants' because, most of the time, you are telling people what to do. With wine, you go through fads: I'll drink rieslings for six months and then pinot noir for four months. If I've just done a big barrel tasting, by the time I've tasted all 8,000 barrels of cabernet I don't want to see another cabernet sauvignon for months on end.
One of my passions is food and cooking. I spend more time cooking than I do winemaking. Every winemaker is a frustrated chef and we are envious of chefs because they get to do it every day. At home, my way of rejuvenating is to cook - every style of food.
I probably don't spend enough time on health and fitness. It is really tough, especially when you're travelling. When you're a double amputee [Inglis lost both legs below the knee to frostbite in a mountaineering accident in 1982] training takes about three times longer than it does if you are an able-bodied person. As well as training yourself physiologically, you need to train your stumps. You are always at the limit of your sockets and your stumps and it just stretches the whole [process] out.
One of the first things Anne and I did this year was to create a charity called Limbs4All, an international organisation based in New Zealand. It is a joint venture with Wayne 'Cowboy' Alexander, who was my leg engineer on the Everest expedition last year. Our great vision is that somewhere out there is a design for the ultimate leg - the leg that can be made anywhere, will do everything and only cost a few dollars. The whole idea is to be able to pass on some of the generosity people offered me after the Everest trip to so many deserving people in Cambodia and Nepal, such as Teelay, the Sherpa who I got legs for.
I first met Teelay, a double amputee Sherpa, in 2004, after I'd just climbed Cho Oyu in the Himalayas. I realised how tough a life he'd had and how similar his and my life were, except I had the opportunity of having [prosthetic] legs and he didn't.