It’s late on day three of my motorcycle trip across France. Way off in the distance, the road twists and turns its way over the brow of a hill. And then I notice it. The vague outline of a distant mountain range, faint and jagged against the skyline. And this is it, the perfect road, the perfect moment of a blissful day but more than this, soon I will be driving over the brow of that hill and there will be the best view ever. I visualize it, me standing on top of the world with a vast stretch of silhouetted mountains before me; inviting and dangerous.

Sooner than expected, I reach the apex I had been waiting for. But there was no sensational view, only an ugly farm building and a rusty combine harvester, a broken down truck and a junk yard full of big machines that were once someone’s pride possessions.

And so it is, we live our lives looking forward to the best view ever, never really grasping that it is the here and now that matters. The lasting memory of my holiday will be the view of the road from across the valley.  Or, maybe not, maybe it will be of walking along a busy road in the pouring rain to a drive in McDonalds in a desolated car park. And all the time my companion lifting my fallen spirits back to the point where I could smile and laugh about the situation; that there ‘is no success like failure’ and that I can be very grateful to be where I am. Not dining in a chic Michelin star restaurant as planned but eating the signature dish in a very different establishment.

The work we do is the fuel we burn, the why we do it is the inspiration that keeps us going. And all the while we look out for the next big challenge and the best view ever.

Have a good week,

Harley