10 days to go until I'll be setting off on my little adventure. I'm going to find myself in India...well that's what people keep kindly telling me will happen. I'm not totally sure I know what I'm looking for, but I am looking forward to spending months in hareem trousers teamed with a tie dye t-shirt, bathing in the Ganges and gathering an anecdote or two about life or death riskshaw rides.
I have given half of my worldly possessions to a variety of worthy charities. They are no doubt grateful for all the CD's from the 90's that I have not listened to for 10 years, and most people did not want to listen to 10 years ago. I expect they'll be flying off the shelves of the Balham Oxfam with the dawning age of digital music. The clothes, some with tags still in, that I have never worn, didn't fit , or generally wore to death and couldn't bear to throw away, well hopefully they can recycle the fabric if nothing else. I left a number of seemingly useless pieces of furniture (a wonky bookcase, linen basket with no handles, a picnic hamper with an ill fitting lid and a cat box with two broken clasps) outside the door of the flat, and apparently other people have uses for them as they disappeared in seconds.
Me and dad, well mostly dad, did a sterling job of squeezing the remaining half of my worldly possessions in the back of a Ford Focus. Colin, the cat was the most difficult to pack. We had a 40 minute chase around the flat before forcing him in the cat box, where upon he broke one of the clasps and popped straight back out again. We attempted gaffa taping him in there, but then pictured him tearing through the gaffa tape in a fit of rage half way up the M1 so after a visit to the vets, Argos and the local pet shop managed to purchase a brand new, and highly secure cat box. It then only took 10 minutes, 3 people and 2 pairs of gardening gloves, to get him in and locked down. He was so upset at leaving London that he cried and yowled for a full 8 hours. What a joy when you're sat in mostly stationary traffic through West London for 2.5 hours, then have to contend with variable speed limits, that actually seemed to be a consistent 50 to me, for the remaining 5 hours of the journey. Life goes on. We arrived alive.
Since then life has been a mix of; drinking too much in the name of birthdays, saying farewell to people and celebrating the re-homing of the cat; trying to store 5 years worth of accumulated cake decorating equipment, shoes, books, bank statements and ski socks under the spare bed at mum and dads; and conducting business/life admin. I have successfully closed one credit card account, the addresses on all other banking nonsense, and simply confused myself about all other options because I have too much time on my hands for research.
On previous long haul trips I have packed the morning I leave, with a hangover or still drunk, I book insurance at the airport, buy a Jackie Collins novel at Smiths in departures and buy/borrow any toiletries I would need on arrival. I am overwhelmed at the choice of insurance, although have definitely ruled out the £629 quote from Lloyds, over the top, and £3,000,000 less compensation than one of the other companies if I lose a limb. I am seriously debating the value of the discreet clip cover on the Berghaus back pack vs the Eurohike one (is a discreet clip cover really worth an extra £43?), and simply beside myself at having to decide on what clothing will be conservative yet cool (temperature) enough whilst maintaining a professional and stylish demeanour for poverty stricken children in New Delhi, and goodness only knows what the best method of accessing money over there is, I just don't understand all the transaction and exchange percentages.
But some things never changed. Having finally applied for my visa, the delay was not my fault, I am unlikely to get it back until the day of my flight. I have timed my journey to perfection. A leisurely 8am train from York is bound to arrive on time leaving me a good 30 minutes to swing into the British Council office collect my passport, and then head out to Gatwick for a 15.00 flight....lets hope it's not a rerun of the New Year journey to Chamonix.
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