I can't recall the exact moment I embarked on this madness, probably over a drink or two chatting with Karen my beautiful wife. We are still in that honeymoon phase you see, where we still enjoy each others company, the same one our friends are secretly saying will end any day and will be ready with the "welcome to regular life" commiserations.

In my head I formulated the idea as I Facebook followed my mother through the idylic settings of the Portuguese seaside town of Setubol with my brother Jon (the Chosen One) wining and dining mother through the delights of a Portuguese summer. Who does he think he is? Well maybe with his intellect and charming worldly nature he was No1 when Dad was still here, but my sister and I have worked tirelessly as a team to usurp him from that position and two weeks a year in some corner of Europe ain't gonna cut it Mister!

Years ago on my Dads death bed I whispered rather insincerely that I would look after Mother, the kind of promise one feels they should make in such a circumstance and besides anyone who knows my Mother knows she really doesn't need looking after. In my mind no harm , no foul, just trying to comfort the old man in his final days.

Stoic as the queen, with that grow old gracefully look of Meryl Streep and the steel of Maggie Thatcher , Mum is a force of nature, all done with the humility and love of Florence Nightingale and maybe a little bit of guile for good measure. She is an intrepid traveler, hard to pin down once she leaves Australia over the winter months. From reindeer herding in Lapland to desert treks across Morocco she travels seemingly on shoestring budgets staying with her 5W (She denies its a lesbian spy agency) buddies. Walking and trekking and trekking and walking, she collects Camino scalps like handbags and Coast to Coast Walks, well she just coast's.

It must have been on one of my "must go and visit mother" evenings that I threw out the very mild and weak offer of taking her to Nepal. Sandwiched in between Coopers swimming lessons and the price of petrol it seemed innocuous enough but I knew straight away! A little flicker in her eyes and I knew there and then that I might as well have written it in blood!

Karen will be delighted i thought. . . .