I was 12 or 13 when I first started climbing and it opened up a completely new window for me, not just in terms of my schooldays in 1950s Britain, but life in general.
Having climbed mountains all over the world, including Everest, it's difficult to put into words what it means to me. There's always this feeling of your spirits being lifted.
You look around you and there's a neverendingness - the open expanse of the sky, the ever-changing cloud formations. It's magical.
Of course, you can argue you don't need climbing for your own survival but that interaction with a pure environment is meaningful and was a world away from the concrete and brick of Nottingham, the city where I grew up.
My school encouraged me to go climbing when I first showed an interest in it.
I'd go with friends on a Friday to Derbyshire or Yorkshire, both of which have national parks. We'd do it regularly and we'd camp.
