One week to go!

Time has flown by, and now when I look on the calender I see my leaving date staring me in the face. 

Am I ready? I hope so as it is a bit late now. If I have forgotten anything, then it is insignificant enough for it not to be an issue. I have my passport, my visa and some foreign currency so at the very least I can get out of the country. Of course, my rucksack is ready as well with just a couple of little sewing adjustments to be made to my trousers, adding buttons to the thigh pockets as an extra little deternet to wandering hands. 

I’m currently feeling very nervous, but that is nothing new. It would be hard to find an entry in this journal where I am not nervous on the eve of a trip. This one is however a little more nerve wracking. Unlike most trips I won’t be back in a week or two, and so my preperation and worries have been a little different. 

It has been very strange indeed wrapping up my life in Guernsey. Ending services which I’ve always taken as a given – such as my internet access, or motorcycle insurance has made me realise just have many things we are signed up to for our day to day existance. All those have now been ended as what was essential before is now nothing but a luxary for other people. 

I feel that I should perhaps retreat to my bathroom, run a huge bath and just wallow in it. I should lay on my bed, splayed out like a starfish. I should put on a Blu-Ray, sit back in my chair and turn the volume up to some room shaking level. Because from next week, I will not be able to do any of these things. I will not have my own bathroom until Christmas and I reach the hotel that I have booked over Christmas. Likewise, a double bed and indeed for many nights a private bedroom at all. That of course is the trade off between travelling to the places that I want to go, or to have a short break. 

Given a choice of a month in Australia, touring the country whilst living on cereal in shared domatories, or 5 nights in a low quality hotel in a single city I don’t think I’ll regret choosing the cereal. Again, that is the trade off for having the adventure. In Asia the trade off will not be as marked. My ample stomach is already growling at the prospect of that regions culanary delights. Delights that I’ll be able to have on the same budget as my museli will cost in Australia. 

As I sit here typing on my computer (another essential left behind), I still can’t quite process the idea that next Sunday I should be visiting the Great Wall or the Forbidden City, but I’m very much looking forward to it.

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