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Published: June 24th 2009
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I think most people start their travel journals at the beginning. At the beginning of their trip anyway. However, for me personally that doesn’t seem like the right place - or at least I will forever write this prologue in mentally to make the picture complete for me. It seems like it’s only fair to share.
A long time ago now, more than 10 years anyway and whilst at university, I wrote a lot. I wrote journals and tales about funny nights out or events with friends. Most involved vodka and orange and the pages these tales were written on were often covered in drool, kebab or fag ends by the morning. All the same, I lovingly kept them, although now somewhat better preserved on a soon to be extinct floppy disc. I wrote those tales at a time where I had no other notion in my mind that I would soon be travelling, absorbing the worlds cultures, sights, sounds and smells as the voyage of my own self discovery kicked into high gear.
I didn’t go. My desires were to be tempered with an important other journey I had endeavoured to overlook - into adulthood - and the realisation that whilst I was free to do whatever I liked I was also responsible for the bill. Not equipped with much of a concept of money, or indeed work itself I followed the age-old advice and got a ‘proper job’. The lessons I have learned though hopefully have formed more of the essential requirements for the more literal journeys I will now undertake than my armoury then consisted of - in short, after 10 years of proper jobbing later it’s time to get back to the original plan!
So, 18 months ago now my much beloved and I sat down and took the decision to travel. Well, not strictly, she called my bluff. I went on like a broken record about wanting a dog, she told me to get one, I said I couldn’t, she asked ‘why?’ and the subject of travel came up.
‘So, when are you going travel then?’ was her next entirely fair question and finally I realised that I was out of excuses. I’m not used to having my bluff called and reacted with alarmingly decisive action for one who comes from a proud gene pool of procrastination - we went out and bought a map.
The map was promptly hung in the dining room and the television became defunct. Slowly a plan was forged and although I’m delighted in all the places we have now decided to visit I can only sense that this will in no way cure my wanderlust but feed it. So, to bring some focus we bought books, lots of books, some focused on individual countries, some on individual continents. Friends and family bought into the fever and bought us books too. Many had intimidating lists of things we ‘must’ do, see, experience or otherwise indulge in before we die. My good lady likes lists. The planning of this whole trip has fed her love of lists - that makes me happy.
Our plans began to set - which has curiously shot me back to childhood and those moulds shaped like rabbits you put jelly in but could never successfully turn it out of - and the level of detail in the planning grew. Over the following months we have enjoyed planning routes, buying trip things, downsizing our homes and then sorting out their rental. It has been like a dream, like a distant plan that you can’t quite touch, maybe like a lifetime of attending church - an investment for your souls future that may not be worth it in the end. But, finally, suddenly we’re here. 10 shifts left to work, 4 weeks until we leave. A knot of tension and excitement has become a constant addition to my abdomen, and I’m sure in no small part is causing bloating.
The first leg of the journey will be around Europe by car and camping. The number of gadgets we have accumulated for my car will render it looking somewhat like the bridge of the USS Enterprise. It is quite amazing to me how many items we could find to plug into a cigarette lighter. This was just the start of the gathering process. You see Europe has some pretty snappy motoring law that seems alarmingly close to common sense and some proper road safety, so we now have a collection of road triangles, high visibility jackets and a collection of spare bulbs all carefully balanced in the boot on top of my environmental and economical move to an LPG tank.
On that point is it solely that we notice things when we’re tuned into a particular subject or is it that some awful universal law conspires to provide some Daily Mail scare story to alarm parents that whatever you’re doing, or wherever you’re going is simply the most dangerous or stupid thing you could ever do? My example is thus. Within 48 hours of converting my car to LPG I get a phone call from my mum. The tone is chatty but I can sense it has a point. After sailing round the houses for the majority of her free BT hour she locates the point - an article about a bloke whose LPG tank blew up on him when hit lit a fag in his car. Had I properly considered the risks? (I obviously hadn’t because this article existed) Did I still smoke? (I quit years ago but she refuses to catch up / believe me) After much protesting my non-smoker status and reassurance that this was no doubt a freak accident I soothed her feathers - but I know she’s still worried.
Anyway, Europe! My good lady has been in charge of the route planning for this leg of the journey (3 months) whilst I have done most of Asia (about 4 months). I think after that we’ve got pretty lazy. By the time we land in Australia I think we figure we’ll be so grateful for English-speaking soil that we figure navigating that part of the journey will be a complete synch. We could of course be wrong, and lets be fair that’s quite likely.
After that it’s over to New Zealand where the trip gets a lot more familiar - well on a social front anyway. Friends and family promise to meet us in varying numbers on most of the rest of the journey - in New Zealand, Peru, Las Vegas and Canada - I have yet to see flight tickets though! I know we will be so excited to see these much loved members of our world and I’m sure that I’ll ponder as the time gets closer the different dynamics that it will bring to the trip.
For now though it’s just the knot of excitement to deal with whilst ticking off the list of things to do (her doing not mine). The amount of time we’ve had to prepare leaves me believing we should have most things covered. Our stress levels really aren’t high and I think that’s worrying. It has left me free to worry about the global economic crisis and sometime last week I experienced a near meltdown worrying about petrol prices in Australia and how I hadn’t saved nearly enough. A concerned member of my team finally banned me from the internet. We’ve also started on the emotional rollercoaster I think most travellers embark on before their published departure dates and that no one tells you about. A couple of weeks ago we took a visit to ‘Bickersville’ - I think it’ll be the last time we go there for a while and I think it’s only because it’s safe to do - we’re still here, everything is familiar so why not give the chains a good rattle? Better now than when we need each other for support. I’m pleased (and a little relieved) to have regained our normal happy state and in doing so skipped straight back to giddy. And with that I think I’ll put away the keyboard for tonight - back at giddy!
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Rick Miller
non-member comment
Missing u Already.
Chez,Jo. 13 lots of appraisals,crime lists,leave,of queues,Dan and Andy bickering and additional custody cover.Hurry back . We have been vsa,d having to work a 9-7 early on the friday of weekend off.Great. Kate has a SGTS course on Rickmas day. Tony johnson got locked up on Matts stag do.Hopefully he will keep his job.D+D. Nat Brennan got reinstated which caused a fuss in the M.E.N. I hope you are both well.Is Jo,s knee bearing up. Take care.Rick.