Me vs The Powers That Be

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It's been a long time coming, this second entry. A few false starts on planes and trains here and there but I should probably start getting into the swing of things, seeing as I'm meant to be writing every Monday whilst travelling to let my dad know I'm alive (hi dad!)!

I've done a lot since I left New York on December 2. In short, I was in Oz for three weeks, came back to London in time for new year's (nearly slept through it though!), went to Paris, Chipping Norton, Gent and even New York for a quick visit. But my time was mainly spent resting in London and I did a lot of that in front of the tv watching all seven seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And before you knock me for it, consider that I don't own it and therefore had to borrow it from someone who will defend his actions far more vehemently than I will!

But, in between all the fun and games, I've also been getting ready for The Trip. It's now TEN DAYS until I leave and I guess I'm somewhat ready. I'm finished being a human pin cushion and now have every known travel vaccine except Japanese encephalitis coursing through my blood. I've forgotten how much some of them hurt and how they messed with my head. 1-0 to me. I've travel insurance that covers me for the crazy intentions I have like white water rafting and shark cage diving. 2-0 to me. I've also been applying for visas and between that and the packing, that's where my lead starts to falter. Ghana High Commission: friendly people, efficient staff (or so it seemed) and happy to hold onto my passport until I was back in London after my fun week playing farmer in Oxfordshire. Words can't explain the massive goofy grin on my face when I had my passport in hand. Neither can they explain the look of horror when I realised they'd given me the wrong visa. But, after catching the eye of one of the staff, I managed to convince him to change it. Note that I have completely glossed over the other unhelpful staff and the amount of time it took in an effort to stay calm this morning! Nigeria however is a completely different story. They refused me my visa. Now, I'd like to think it's nothing personal but...as a law-abiding citizen of the world, why me?!? Everyone else in the group has theirs! This has given several people I know - and don't know - quite a laugh. So my next option is to apply once we arrive in Bamako, Mali and if that doesn't work... well, it would seem that I spend my birthday in a country that isn't Nigeria! 2-1.

Packing. I knew it was going to be my biggest (no pun intended) issue. I am atrocious at packing light at the best of times, seeing as I haven't had to for the past several years! I decided on a wheeled duffle bag so that I could use my back for my camera equipment (all 11kg of it). It looks MASSIVE but if I can get over the initial embarrassment, it will suit me wonderfully. With a separate bottom compartment, I've my clothes plus an empty backpack in there, keeping the top section for my sleeping bag, mat, mosquito net and other bits and pieces. I still feel like I'm taking too much as I know I can buy things at markets along the way (thus helping local communities) BUT if I already own it, surely it makes more sense to take it with me? And the camera equipment is heavy but I have the absolute bare minimum (meaning two bodies, three lens - including 'the rocket launcher', a 50-500mm). If I reach South Africa and I feel I'm not using everything, I'll have people I can leave it with.

I guess right now we're at a 2-2 draw. Things left to do? Malaria pills, actually put all my stuff in the bag, figure out how I'm safekeeping the 45,000 photos I expect to take and relax. I know it's all going to be fine once I'm on the plane to Gibraltar on March 10.

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