It's official, I’ve got bipolar. I keep yo-yoing between the elation of finally leaving and the sudden realisation of what I'm actually doing; I’m leaving home, with little money and even less luggage, and living out of said luggage for 5 months in countries I've never been to before, with languages i don't understand … but then I think about it and want it to be longer, I should go further, see more. Maybe this is the beginning of a new hobby. (sorry mum) It seems like such a long time ago, that day in Pizza Hut telling Annie all about my ideas for going off and seeing the world. Somewhere in between that and deciding on whether to get a meat feast or a chicken supreme, a momentus decision was made. 'Do you want to
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