The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

Dear Diary. Today I went on a hike in the mountains with some people. Before I left the house, I checked the weather forecast and it said "rain" but yesterday was hot and sunny so I thought, Rain? Yeah right!, rubbed suncream onto my arms and face, and grabbed my sunglasses. I left my coat behind because obviously it's summer and I don't need a coat.

I drove to the starting point, a place called Gorgues de la Muga, some hiking area just shy of the French border. Three other people were in the car: my English friend Gordon; a Brazilian woman in her 50s called Regina; and Regina's adult daughter Marina.

We were almost there when the skies opened and rain began falling in torrents. Lightning flashed across the sky. Thunder rumbled in the distance. I switched the wipers to the fastest speed. Whish wash, whish wash.

"You guys realise we're going to be hiking in this?" I said.

I missed a turning because I was busy talking to Gordon about Queen. Because of this, we arrived at the park twenty minutes late. A park ranger greeted us at the entrance to the park. He was wearing a cowboy hat with a gold star. He held up his hand. I stopped the car and wound down the window.

"Where are you going?" he said.

"We're doing a hike," I said. "We're meeting some people up ahead."

"Oh, those people," he said, chuckling. "Well, just go right on ahead. And good luck."

Good luck?

We arrived at the hike and got out of the car. Everyone else was already there. They were an eclectic bunch of people from all different nationalities. I counted fifteen people, including a primary school teacher, a woman from Turkey, and Denise and her boyfriend Kai. I was alarmed to see a six-year-old girl with her mom. She was wearing a baby blue poncho with a picture of Skye from Paw Patrol. I hoped she wouldn't get lost like the girl from the Stephen King book and die of diarrhoea after eating bad berries.

Nearly everyone was wearing raincoats, I noticed. One man was even carrying an umbrella.

I didn't have a raincoat. My tank top and shorts were already getting wet.

The hike was organized by a blonde German woman called Denise.

"You did not read the email?" Denise asked me.

"What email?" I said.

"We sent everyone a email with the hike information. It said to bring a raincoat."

I didn't read any email.

First Denise made us all play icebreaker games, despite the fact it was raining. We played a game where we had to find someone whose name began with the same letter as our own. Then we played a game where we had to find someone whose birthday was in the same month as our own.

Then Denise said, "So today I thought we could make things more interesting by doing speed-dating." She started handing out bracelets. "Pink means you are single and ready to mingle. Blue means you already have a partner and and just looking for friends."

I wanted to put a pink bracelet on but couldn't because I already have a girlfriend.

"So everyone has signed their disclaimers?" asked Denise.

Everyone nodded. The disclaimers were legal documents protecting Denise from liability if anyone got injured.

I nodded vaguely. I hadn't signed mine as I couldn't be bothered.

When Denise felt sure everyone had signed the disclaimers, the hike began. But we had only walked two minutes when the rain began pelting down. We all ran for shelter under a tree.

"If it carries on like this, I might go back home," said one woman.

The rain petered off. Next, we had to cross a river. But there was no bridge so we had to simply wade across.

My shoes are supposed to be waterproof. But there's a limit to how waterproof my shoes are. You exceed the limit if you stick your entire foot in a river, as I did.

Because the six-year-old girl was the same age as my son, I offered to carry her across the river on my shoulders. She happily said yes. But when I stepped into the water with the girl on my shouldrers, I almost slipped on a wet rock. The girl almost fell off my shoulders and into the river. Some of the guys had to run over and grab me to keep me steady.

Next we had to walk along a steep embankment at the edge of the river. The mud made the ground slippery. We progressed slowly, holding onto trees for support. I slipped once or twice but managed to keep my footing.

It reminded me of the kind of foolhardy misadventure from British TV show 999, which showed real cases paramedics attended to.

"Tonight on 999: On a rainy day in the mountains, a group of inexperienced hikers set off for what they thought would be a pleasant stroll. Little did they know, the mild rain forecasted by one hiker's weather app would soon become some of the worst rain Spain had seen for years. The mud on these pathways make it easy for hikers to slip and lose their footing, which is precisely what happened to this group of unprepared hikers. Only their bodies were found, several weeks later, battered and bloated by seawater."

"Stella wants to know how much further we have to go?" said the mom of the six-year-old girl. "Because I promised her we get ice cream for lunch."

We'd only done half a mile. So probably another hundred miles?

"This is the hard part," said Denise. "It is just a little bit further, and then it gets a lot easier."

The six-year-old girl was struggling to climb a muddy hill.

"You are doing really well, Stella!" said Denise. "You know, when this is over, I think we will all deserve some ice cream!"

Denise was trying to be light and positive about the situation but I could tell from her worried expression that she was actually thinking about what would happen if one of us slipped and died and the disclaimer templates she found on the internet didn't hold up in court as legal documents.

Miraculously we all reached the top of the embankment without falling or dying.

"Look at my fingernails!" Gordon shrieked like a teenage girl. He held up his fingers and they were covered in mud. His knees and hands were caked with mud too.

We continued walking. The rain continued falling. After an hour of walking in the rain, we stopped at the ruins of a castle for a break. The rain didn't stop; in fact, it was coming down even heavier than ever. We took shelter under some stairs. But the stairs had holes in them and the water got through so we still got soaked. I was more wet than if I'd been on the rapids at Alton Towers.

Next, we waded through another river and walked up a hill in single file. The hill was covered in forest so we had to fight through plants and branches. I felt like Sylvester Stallone in a Vietnamese war jungle. Gordon was in front of me. As Gordon pushed through the branches, he didn't notice the branches swinging back at me and hitting me in the face.

"Let's see if we can hear frogs," said Denise.

I listened. And I could hear frogs. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Squelch. Then I realised it was just the sound of Gordon's shoes.

The hill kept going up and up. We were like hobbits climbing Mount Doom. A rivulet of rainwater ran between our legs and down the hill.

"My t-shirt's wet," complained Gordon.

We reached the top of the hill. The six-year-old girl was crying. I offered to carry her but she shook her head.

"Congratulations, we made it!" said Denise. I noticed her left leg was scratched and bleeding. "This is the top of the mountain. I think we should all celebrate our achievements by giving each other compliments. First I want to give a compliment to Stella because she is the youngest of the group and she has walked all this way by herself."

Everyone clapped and cheered for the six-year-old girl. She had the hood of her raincoat up tightly around her head and a towel wrapped around her shoulders. She was pale and shivering.

"I like Gordon's t-shirt," said one man.

I noticed for the first time Gordon was wearing a Kylie Minogue t-shirt.

"Paul," said Gordon, turning to me. "Paul is a great friend and an amazing person."

I nodded.

Then a miracle happened: the rain stopped, the clouds parted, and the sun came out.

"It looks like the rain's stopped," said a Catalan guy called Alex.

Then the clouds regathered and the rain began falling again.

We walked back to our cars in the rain. I walked alongside another Catalan guy called Ivan. He's 45, tall, muscular, and shaven-headed. He works as a teacher at a school for disabled kids.

"I'm looking for a girlfriend but I haven't had a girlfriend in decades." (His actual words). "I want a woman who likes being outdoors, and open to new things, and it hard to find a woman like that."

We got back to our cars. The little 6-year-old girl and her mom arrived last. We watched as they straggled back to the starting point. The girl shot us a murderous glare from under her hood as if she wanted to kill us all in revenge for making her do the hike.

Denise handed out biscuits to everyone as a prize for finishing the hike. I got the 6-year-old girl to laugh by pretending to hide my biscuit up my bum.

"So that is the end of the hike," said Denise, smiling. "Would anyone like to go to a restaurant for lunch?"

No one did. Everyone got in their cars, slammed the doors, and drove off.

Gordon, Regina, Marina and I got in my car. I was shivering from the cold so I turned the heating on. I couldn't wait to get home and have a nice cup of tea. I started the engine and reversed out of the parking spot.

"Does anyone want to do another hike after this one?" I said.

Everyone laughed.

An hour later, I was home again. The entire trip had lasted seven hours but it had felt longer. 6-year-old and Girlfriend were lying on the sofa, watching the movie Boss Baby. 2-year-old was taking a nap. The rain had stopped.

It felt like the whole thing had never happened, it was just some vivid dream. But the mud on my boots begged to differ.

(I never did bother making a cup of tea.)