The 7 things I’ll never do again: my reverse-bucket list

10 hours ago 3

Opinion

January 10, 2026 — 5.00am

Now that I’ve reached middle age, when the time I have left to me is dwarfed by the time I’ve squandered in unproductive activities like having a family and being nice to people, a bucket list seems all wrong. Do I have the time to train for Everest base camp? Of course not. Much simpler to write a reverse-bucket list – things that I’ve done in the past and will never do again.

Camel riding (the author, Margot Saville, is seen here with her daughter Stella), and the boat that sunk ambitions.

1. Paraphernalia sports

Top of the list is anything to do with “paraphernalia sports” – where the pleasure in the activity is outweighed by the sheer volume of equipment. No. 1 is boating. I was once part of a syndicate which owned a 1953 Halvorsen – a timber boat from the “golden age” of maritime history. What this meant was your shipwright flew first-class to Europe every year because you had spent Aristotle Onassis-quantities of money on keeping it afloat and, in our case, trying to fix the toilet (sorry, head).

Everyone had Marine Rescue NSW on speed dial because when you’ve broken down in the main shipping channel in Sydney Harbour and a 150,000-tonne cruise boat is due in 15 minutes, you need a tow – fast. I assume that owning an E-Type Jag is a similar experience, at about half of 1 per cent of the cost.

In the 20 years we owned the boat, I spent about six hours relaxing on the water with a drink in my hand – which works out at about $500,000 an hour. It would have been cheaper to charter the QEII.

Our boat, the Kristina. Not quite the Onassis’ Christina O.

2. Long performances

Attend any theatrical performance that lasts longer than 1½ hours – one hour if the word “harrowing” appears on the poster. Recently, I went to see Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, which clocks in at more than three hours. At the second interval I said to my friend: “Look – the kid is made up, there’s much more crying and if we leave now we can have dinner.” Exeunt.

In 2023, I saw the first half of On the Beach, an “uncanny, post-apocalyptic vision” of a world where nuclear fallout is wiping out the population. One hour in, we agreed that it really wasn’t killing them fast enough – and was the bar still open? I can highly recommend smaller theatre companies which for budgetary reasons put on much shorter plays, thus forcing the playwright to, praise the lord, get to the !$%#ing point.

Members of the cast from Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?

3. Go camping

After a relationship-ending long weekend involving a South Coast caravan park, a Category 5 cyclone and a UTI, I have vowed that I will never again stay anywhere less comfortable than my own space. I like grass, but not enough to sleep on it.

4. Culinary Roulette

Go to a dinner party, when there are better alternatives. In a restaurant, you have more control over your food and your dining companions, so why risk culinary roulette? Evidently, it’s considered rude to ring up the host to negotiate over the menu and the guest list. Or offer dinner-rescuing advice about how long to rest meat before you eat it (I was just trying to help!). There is no need to eat bad food while trapped next to someone with strong opinions on immigration and their gut flora when the solution is at hand. A booking.

There is one glaring exception to that rule ...

5. Tasting menus

I’ve been to a few restaurants with a “tasting menu”– the evening starts out well with delicious tiny snacks and free-flowing drinks. However, by the time your waiter has interrupted your conversation for the fourth time to tell you about the offal with sea moss, you’ve run out of patience, and appetite.

In an excellent article entitled “Nibbled to Death”, former New York Times food reviewer Pete Wells wrote that sometimes the consumer of such a meal “may feel as much like a victim as a guest. The reservation is hard won, the night is exhausting, the food is cold, the interruptions are frequent. The courses blur, the palate flags and the check stings.” Exactly.

6. Camel riding

A few years ago, we had a family holiday in Morocco. One afternoon, my daughter and I found ourselves way up high atop large dromedaries, heading for the Sahara. It took a while to realise that, owing to a catastrophic communication breakdown, our “sunset drinks” were, in fact, an overnight camp in the desert. A bloodthirsty Islamist uprising against the government of Mali was taking place on the other side of the dunes, and that wasn’t even my biggest concern. Somehow, the next day, I had to climb back on that animal to get home. “Chafing” doesn’t come close.

Margot Saville and her daughter Stella on the camels (which spit, a lot).

7. Wear a jumpsuit

Because I’m lazy about my appearance, I like the “one and done” style of dressing. But the last time I wore a jumpsuit it was at a country party, where there were portaloos in the paddocks and industrial quantities of booze. If you can remove most of your clothing and hold it up off the (frankly unsavory) floor while also holding a handbag, in heels, then you have better balance than me.

There’s plenty more – as well as the reverse-bucket list there’s a whole other category which I call “Zero-Probability Events”, things I’ve never done and have absolutely no intention of doing, no matter how long I live. They include threesomes, bungee-jumping and owning a snake. At this age, I know my limits.

Margot Saville is the Herald’s deputy opinion editor.