Quintastic by Timothy Poulton

Quintastic by Timothy Poulton

As birthdays go, 50 used to smack of cardigans, nasty coughs and golfing carts. If 40 was the end of youth, “the big five-oh” was the dreaded number that ushered in the twilight years of cruise ships and varifocals. But with life expectancy only increasing – and retirement age receding into the distance – 50’s resonance and significance as a birthday is changing dramatically. I know muscle loses it’s elasticity in all the wrong places and that I’ll need to tow a trailer full of water around and that my mental stability is going to take a nose dive. In my mind’s eye, I’m still a lot younger than I actually am. I don’t mind looking my age: I don’t want to change the way I look, I just avoid mirrors and know that beauty is way deeper. I don’t bother with creams, lotions, anti-wrinkle this and that. and at this stage it’s probably not worth doing it anyway. Getting older only matters if you don’t feel good in yourself. You can use it as a reason to celebrate, or a reason to get depressed. For me, it time to ramp up my adventures with a 50th celebration in the Himalayas at the end of this year. If you’re feeling a little depressed beg, borrow and steal and book yourself the adventure you’ve always dreamed about.

Timothy Poulton: Photos