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Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Travel is War

I love packing for long and distant journeys. Travel is war and traveling is how we handle the minefield.

As soon as I know I'm to be 'en voyage' I lay out a big basket for everything to be tossed into that I'll need. I may retrieve the items for daily use - camera, CDs, Greece/Italy-friendly lectronica, gizmos n gadgets - but they have a new home to which they're returned.

I pin a large plastic bag up for all documents I need - passports, travel details, memos to self of stuff to do - into which I toss everything, incl notes to self (write dave about car * do xmas cards (christina's address in outlook, terry's in diary #5 * car to garage 12/1 * send postdate checks to water/phone * set up credit card pre-pay * check all bookmarks in gmail * etc

One week before hand I sit down and collate everything and set a daily schedule for stuff to do/buy/phone. Email family for last ditch requests, after which they have no excuse to bitch once I am *there*; fat chance.

Two days before I panic: It's too quiet out there. Everything is too organised. I phone home demanding testing questions and turn testy at their failure to come up with any gaps ("I know, see if you can find my scarf I left somewhere in the-" "Got it. It'll be in the main suitcase." "Er ... I don't know if you remember, but Mum likes those gardening gloves that Bay Hay sells." "Got 2 pairs!"

"OK, then, well have you remembered to be a pre-flight total boring asshole to your family?"

"Check. Nice catch."


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