T-1 and counting..

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Just past midnight and I’m still up trying to get the last of it packed before our flight tomorrow morning. Organisation evidently isn’t my forte, but I did manage to squeeze in a chocolate tour and movies at work on Monday so at least I’ve got my priorities straight.

I’d love to say my travel plans are all a bit up in the air at the moment (more romantic that way), but given the fact I’ve just spent the past year and a half pretending to be an analyst and becoming way too familiar with an excel spreadsheet, everything is all pretty much meticulously sorted out, from overnight hostels to dates and times of trains to catch. Over judicious this may seem, but it’s cheaper this way, and Indians are nothing if not economically conservative / cheap.

First stop is Chicago for my cousin Priya’s wedding. A week spent with the rellies, being amazed at how fast the little ones have grown and being baffled by the myriad of maths and logic questions my uncle will undoubtedly throw my way. Next on to Alaska, America’s forgotten state, to take in the snow and ice on a sea cruise - the perfect destination for a family with a girl who wears scarves and jackets even in the so-called Australian summer, and a mother who suffers from avid seasickness. The family part of the tour concludes in Canada, on a golden oldies tour of the west coast before finally waving goodbye to the folks in sunny Vancouver.

Off then to England, a week in Coventry recovering with my Aunty and Uncle, before detouring through Wales on my way to London - a route that makes perfect sense in my head, although admittedly not so much sense if one was looking at, say, a world map. After stopping briefly in Ascot to see my cousin Mala and her fiancé Damien finally tie the knot after procrastinating for the past ten years, I’ll be heading up through England on my way to Scotland. A few bites of haggis and some kilt wearing later, I’ll jump a boat (well, a plane) to Ireland to hang out with the leprechauns and wear a lot of emerald green.

Finally down to Italy - the only part of my tour I haven’t pre-planned to death, or for that matter, planned at all (Italian style?) - to indulge in copious amounts of gelati, pizza and pasta before eventually rolling myself back to Britland.

Four months of solid travelling later, and the less glamorous side of the trip finally kicks in. Back to UK to find a job to replenish my no doubt dwindling funds - unless of course my banker, that is, my dad, decides to extend an unlimited and non-repayable line of credit to me - an option I’m still working on, although admittedly without much success. A change in career potentially on the cards, although hopefully not to the world of Aussie-backpacker-in-London-working-bars-and-hanging-out-at-the-SheBuWalkie, like far too many of Australia’s youth. But nevermind, come what may.

In conclusion I have to thank Krissy for setting this blog thing up for me. Not because I particularly relish the idea of writing in this, but if nothing else to give me yet another way to procrastinate - as if it’s not already way past my bedtime and with my clothes strewn across the floor in a defiantly unpacked state.

I’m never going to make it out of here at this rate.

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