After setting myself the audacious task of recounting 7 weeks worth of traveling in little under 7 days, I find myself on the eve of our second departure, with nothing written at all. As the days whizzed by in preparation for our journey, the endless goodbyes and hours spent planning seemed to get in the way of any scrawlings I wish to make. I lay awake late at night planning the paragraphs which would effortlessly write themselves the following morning. I discovered I was at my most creative late at night. This should have been when I lept from my warm bed, opened my laptop and let the creative juices flow. This didn’t happen, the entry never materialised, and I’m left pondering how this blog will continue. My first idea was to write in real time, reporting on the days or weeks adventure in a journal type of entry, but I realised I had a lot of past prose I wished to share. Would a mangled mix of past and present work or produce a confusing back and forth? After deliberation I have decided just to see what happens. If I decide I need to tell you about a past trip, then so be it and you will be subjected to my wandering, time travelling mind.
I am thoroughly excited for the trip ahead, which reminds me of the torment of the first departure. Un like a normal holiday, my last few moments in the UK weren’t entirely filled with happiness and excitement. Yes, these wonderful emotions shone through in shooting star like fashion amongst a sea of worry, angst and nerves. The sadness of bidding fairwell to family and friends intertwined the feelings of glee and freedom, the rollercoaster just adding sickness to the joy of the ride.
The release didn’t arrive until after the agitated wait to board our flight. Arriving at my seat, I wasn’t filled with the usual dismay of planning how to fill the next 7 hours in this 3 foot square prison, but found myself with a bounteous amount of excitement. I didn’t care that I was trapped here for a third of the next day, I was free. I wasn’t wasting time when I should be somewhere else. I had nothing to do except lie back, drink free beer and relax. As the plane took off, I could feel the stresses and worry of the last week crash onto the runway and shatter. Absolute emancipation.
So now I sit with a childish giddiness, relishing the thought of taking to the open road again and continuing this once on a life time journey. Booked it, packed it, fucked off.