Packing

I figured I should post before we leave - an empty blog feels wrong!

Tomorrow evening Mr Houliston and I are leaving via St Pancras to go and sample to sights, sounds, tastes and beer of Central Europe.

Packing is, on my part (I can't account for my travel companion) pretty much done. I'm now into the paranoid phase of preparing to travel - three times today I've suddenly stopped what I've been doing, stared into space for a momentarily, and exclaimed, "oh fuck, I've forgotten that!", and leaped up the stairs into my basecamp (my sister's room before she moved out), only to find what ever item had suddenly come to mind was already sitting neatly on the bed.

Everyone knows I love a good plan, which is somewhat at odds with the idea of an interail ticket. As neither of of want to spend that long on France (both been there, both want to get to Italy), I've been let loose on getting us through in a matter of days, and, as such, we should be in a position to cross the Italian boarder by about noon on Monday morning. One of the glorious things about interail, however, is that we can just say, "fuck this, lets go to Barcelona/Stockholm/Warsaw/Athens, and we can make it so, and plans will probably fly out the window (hopefully not literally).

Right, I need to go and brush up on my basic French. Matt's foreign language skill currently extend to insults and "Ich habe meinen Rucksack verloren," a phrase that he'll hopefully never need...

Nashledanou!

Will
xx