My slightly melodramatic response is probably a reaction to the recent illnesses of friends, a setback with my older son and an approaching 'special' birthday. But I need to remember that these are isolated events, not part of some divine plan to punish me for stealing paper from school when I was eight.
Ideally, I'd spend a week or two in a Swiss resort, where I could enjoy the mountain air and go hiking with a guide called Erich. Interlaken is supposed to be rather pleasant in the spring and has been a popular destination ever since it was 'discovered' in the 19th century.
There don't appear to be many photos of Victorian hikers - the cameras were rather cumbersome in those days - but one enterprising gentleman in Interlaken came up with an ingenious solution:
With the aid of fake grass, a cardboard rock and a misty background, the beauty of the Swiss mountains were flawlessly recreated by Johann Adam Gabler. Whether you were a seasoned mountaineer or an indolent aesthete, the results were the same.
This is one of Gabler's more realistic shots, carefully staged to recreate the tension and excitement of hunting. But not every portrait was this successful:
The attention to detail was sadly lacking in this photo, as Herr Gabler's fakery is clearly visible. If only he'd moved the camera a few degrees to the left.
A happy honeymoon couple, still glowing from a night of passionate lovemaking.
This costume is a cut above the average electric blue Berghaus kagool. Half 'Brown Owl', half Italian revolutionary.
I don't think it would be unfair to say that this chap, who looks a little like Debussy, is a stranger to the outdoor life. Even the rigours of the studio scenery are too much for him and he has wisely opted for a more sedate, arcadian setting.
It's so antisocial when people keep checking their Bibles for a text. The friend is clearly not impressed by her companion's behaviour.
This is a splendid outfit compared to the shapeless, synthetic hiking gear of today. The act of getting dressed must have been a pleasure in itself. However, I'm not sure how this gentleman's clothes would have fared in a downpour.
After looking at these photos, the answer is clear: I need a large sum of money, a time machine and a valet.
I'm sure that a week in the 1880s, hobnobbing with minor royals and exiled aristocrats, would restore my equilibrium, so that I could tackle the rest of the year with renewed vigour.
But until time travel is invented I have this, which is the next best thing:
After looking at these photos, the answer is clear: I need a large sum of money, a time machine and a valet.
I'm sure that a week in the 1880s, hobnobbing with minor royals and exiled aristocrats, would restore my equilibrium, so that I could tackle the rest of the year with renewed vigour.
But until time travel is invented I have this, which is the next best thing:
