Sitting in the Perth International Airport, waiting for my 2:30am flight outta here, to cold and snowy London, via KL.
Been a hectic week, packing up my old job (I can say that now!), and moving all my possessions into a pile in my Dads spare room, and into my campervan which is parked at a friends. Generous of both of them.
So now all I have, for almost 5 months, is a pack weighing 13kg, and a mini handluggage backpack. I have a meagre selection of clothes, supposed to cover all bases from sub zero England to Caribbean beaches, from dinners with my girlfriends parents to archaeological excavation.
I have gear to document my travels. My trusty camera which takes good pics but is not too big or fancy. A Zoom handheld audio recorder to record musical snippets, ideas, and sample exotic noises. And I have this little computer for writing and putting it all together.
Tucked away in the bottom of my pack is my archaeological field kit, with two trowels and a shitload of bandaids for cut knuckles.
And the feeling is starting to kick in, that great feeling, when you dont have too much stuff to weigh you down!
As I sit here and wait I realise that I better get used to it, and get good at it. The waiting that is.