Penelope and her husband Andrew had been together for twentysix years. They met at university, married after graduation, and two years later their son James was born. It was an ordinary English family.
James grew up, got married and moved to London with his wife. After he left, Penelope and Andrews life changed dramatically. Suddenly there was little to talk about, and they didnt even feel the need to. They knew each other inside out, could finish each others sentences with a glance, yet now they exchanged a few words and fell silent.
When Penelope first started work after university, there was a woman in her department who was about fortyfive. To Penelope she seemed much older because of her youthful demeanor. The woman often took winter holidays and always returned with a uniform tan. Her short, boyish haircut and bleached hair highlighted the warmth of her skin.
Must be a tanning salon, whispered a younger colleague.
One day Penelope could no longer contain her curiosity and asked the woman how she managed such a bronzed look in winter.
We were on a ski break in the Scottish Highlands, the woman replied.
Really? At your age?
She laughed, My age? Im only fortyfive. When you reach my years youll realise this is real youth not foolishness, but a mature kind of spring. Listen, dear, boredom is the greatest enemy of a marriage. All affairs and divorces start with it. When the kids grow up life settles into a quiet routine. Thats when men start to feel restless. We women never have time to be bored; we work, look after the children, and handle the house. Meanwhile a man lies on the sofa after work, wondering how to spend his unused energy. Some drink, some look for new thrills, as the saying goes, they go hunting for another woman.
I was naïve, thinking my husband was just tired from work, that there was nothing wrong with him lounging in front of the telly, not drinking. I kept buzzing around the house like a motor. Then one day he told me hed fallen for someone else, that I bored him, and he left. Imagine that!
When I remarried, I behaved differently. I made my husband share the chores, we took weekend trips out of town, went skiing in winter. I gave him no rest on the sofa. Were still together, the children are grown, and we travel the country. It may not suit everyone, but take note.
Penelope remembered those words. She began to notice Andrew heading straight for the sofa after a hearty dinner, his feet reluctant to leave the livingroom. He used to go hiking, whitewater rafting on the Thames, and surprise her with birthday treats.
She tried to shake him out of his routine, buying theatre tickets, even a cruise on a threedeck river boat down the Thames. At the theatre he dozed, at the cruise he yawned after a glass of wine and rushed back to his favourite couch. On the boat he complained about the cramped cabin. Skiing was out of the question; his growing belly made him resist any sport.
After one of Penelopes suggestions to watch a film, he stared at her with saddened eyes and said, Where are you taking me? I just want the weekend to relax, catch up on sleep. Go with your friends.
When they first lived together, Andrew used to go trekking with mates. They had a small crew that loved rafting down fast rivers and tackling rapids. He played guitar and sang decently.
Penelope had never joined. Work, pregnancy, and caring for their little boy kept her home.
Dont give him so much freedom, warned Penelopes mother. Hell find a hobby buddy and maybe a new friend.
For cheating you dont need the outdoors, Penelope replied. I trust Andrew, Im waiting for those trips.
Eventually the trekking group dissolved as members started families.
One lazy Sunday Penelope sat beside Andrew on the sofa with a photo album. At first she flipped reluctantly, then increasingly she smiled at the pictures, and Andrew began to reminisce.
Dont you miss the old days, the excitement? she asked.
No, who would I do it with? Everyones busy, the grandchildren, he replied.
Come with me. Ive never been on your hikes. Invite your old mates, maybe theyll join, she urged.
Are you serious? Back then we were reckless youths, now?
Now were wiser, right? Penelope joked. Then lets go to the theatre this weekend, have a cultured night, she said, snapping the album shut and kicking up a puff of dust.
Andrew thought about it. Later at dinner he said, I spoke to Tom about a route. He still has his old tents. We could rent a raft from the sports centre. Penelope saw his eyes light up, and it pleased her.
He warned, Itll be tough for a beginner the river, the rapids, mosquitos, sleeping on the ground without showers or proper toilets. Penelope promised not to quit.
He laughed, Youll need proper gear, not high heels and silk slippers. They shopped together; he kept her from buying more dresses and swimwear, steering her toward warm jackets and sturdy boots.
Penelope trusted him completely, and soon their backpacks were packed.
Put it on, lets see how you manage, Andrew said.
She struggled with the weight, groaning as the sack pulled her down. Take it off, lets see whats inside, he ordered.
She emptied the bag to find hair rollers, a makeup case, a hair dryer, dozens of creams and shampoos all useful for a cottage, useless for a trek.
Mosquitoes will have a field day, he chuckled. Maybe you should stay home? He looked at her with pity.
Penelope, breathless, watched as Andrew stripped the bag of everything unnecessary, leaving only the essentials. The pack lightened dramatically.
I can do this, she declared, feeling a surge of confidence.
She recalled how she had tried to draw Andrew into the theatre and art, and he had eventually come along. Now she would be his companion in both valleys and victories.
As the departure time drew nearer, doubt gnawed at her, but finally they stood on the railway platform, waiting for the train that would carry them away from the comforts of civilisation. With them were three other men and a woman.
Are those your other friends divorced? Penelope asked quietly.
No, their wives and grandchildren are at home, Andrew replied.
The journey was lively; the men told funny anecdotes, Andrew pulled out his guitar from the loft and strummed a few chords. Penelope decided that if she could keep up, she would enjoy the trip.
When they finally left the station and walked a few miles from the track, her back ached from the pack, her legs trembled, and sweat drenched her face. She felt ashamed to complain while the men hauled sleeping bags, tents, and a deflated inflatable boat.
The countryside was beautiful, but Penelope saw only the trail ahead, trying not to stumble or break a bone. When they reached the river, she wanted to lie on the grass and never move again. The men swiftly built a fire and pitched tents as if they hadnt been out for days.
Youll get used to it, encouraged Tamsin, the wife of one of the men. Lets fetch water, we need to cook dinner.
Tears welled up; she longed for a hot shower and a soft bed.
Then the night unfolded. Andrew played guitar by the fire, his voice rich and warm. He seemed a different man alive, joyous. Penelope saw the Andrew she had first fallen for, the one who made her heart race.
The next day, after a rough raft ride that left blisters on his hands, he asked, Thinking of running away?
No, Penelope said firmly.
At the rivers rapids she hesitated; the water roared, sharp stones jutted out. She wanted to suggest walking along the bank, but seeing Andrews mischievous grin she clamped her hands on the raft, ignoring the oars, terrified of falling into the cold water.
When the rapids finally passed, she exhaled with relief and shouted triumphantly.
They returned home a week later, exhausted but exhilarated, their minds full of new memories. Penelope realized she would miss the fresh air, the songs around the fire, the open sky.
After a hot shower and a hearty dinner, they sat together at the kitchen table, scrolling through photos on the laptop, teasing each other, laughing the way they hadnt in years. The trek had brought them back together; they now shared a common interest again. They fell asleep in each others arms, just like in their youth.
Should we plan another trek next year? Penelope asked, snuggling close to Andrews warm side.
You liked it? he laughed. Its not a West End show or a fancy restaurant. Its life.
Ill be better prepared next time, so you wont be embarrassed, she promised.
I wasnt embarrassed at all. For a beginner you did brilliantly, he said, beaming. Penelopes cheeks flushed with pride.
When James called, she babbled about the adventure.
Sounds like youve got a wild life over there, I thought youd be bored, he teased.
Were far from bored. How are things with you? she asked.
Were expecting a baby, he announced.
Back at work after her holiday, Penelope returned glowing, a beaded friendship bracelet on her wrist.
Did you go south? You look sunkissed, a colleague remarked, pointing at the bracelet.
Its a talisman. A shaman gave it to me, Penelope replied.
So, to revive a waning relationship, dont sit at home; share your partners interests. Extreme adventure may not suit everyone, but theres always something else to try. As a writer once said, Never regret the effort you put into saving love. The lesson is clear: boredom kills, shared experiences revive.
