In seven days time I’ll be on my way to Heathrow – bags meticulously packed, tickets and passport clutched in my sweaty hands.  It doesn’t matter how well-organised you are, there’s always that heart-pounding fear that you’ve forgotten something or got the dates wrong.  That disbelief that you’ll actually make it on time, and clear security.  I’m a worrier.  With seven days to go, I’m waking in the early hours researching insurance, exchange rates, accommodation; writing lists of things to pack – categorised into shoes, health, electronics, important documents, books and journals, and clothes – which are sub-categorised into sports/yoga, leisure, weather conditions, sleep, going out and beachwear.  I’m fully-versed in what I need to do if I so happen to get bitten by a rabid dog, or catch malaria, and have practically committed my insurance policy to memory.

Its hard to believe that the last time I went on a big adventure, nearly 8 years ago, I was such a free spirit.  I’m almost certain that this obsessive compulsion to over-analyse and organise is a sub-conscious desire to create control at a point in my life when the future is an unknown.

In reawakening, revamping this blog, one of my biggest questions was “what is its purpose?”

The practical answer is to document my trip.  Learn from past mistakes and capture my experiences, alien environments and the people I’ll meet in a way that enables me to look back in years to come and see, feel and hear it all again.

In terms of achievement, crossing the finishing line, which my previous blogs (triathlon and marathon) were predominantly focused on, I’m uncertain at this point as to what that will be.

I’m not training for a big race, or working towards a degree.  There will be no medal, or certificate at the end.  I’m venturing into the unknown with a mind to stop trying for things, working towards something and perhaps my challenge this time round, is to let go and just be.

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