To plan or not to plan…
When you decide to take a year or so off from life as you know it, to go on a wonderful adventure, there is inevitably a lot of not so wonderful planning required. So very much planning. There is some stuff that you have to do; like getting visas and vaccinations. There is also rather a lot that you have to think about; where do you want to go, when is the best time to go, what are the best places to go, what will the weather be like, any local customs to be aware of, what insurance to get, What to do with your stuff, what are you going to take, what you are going to take it in…oh dear is your head about to explode? Mine too.
So I have adopted the much hmmmn well perhaps underused (guffaws echo) path of planning not to plan. Basics is best. I am planning the bare minimum and after that, well we will play it by ear, trusting the old adage of it will be alright in the end. Because well, fingers crossed, it will.
My husband, as those who know him can attest, is so enviously laid back he is practically horizontal, funny, caring and ooooh so laid back, that whatever we do, wherever and whenever we go, he’s cool with it, ugh! I on the other hand am usually Mrs Organised, detail oriented, everything planned. Except if I am leaving this fair Isle for good I do not particularly want the last days I am here to be spent in my head, far in the future, planning the months ahead. I want them here, emotionally and intellectually, enjoying, absorbing, saying good bye, as present as I can be.
So, despite everything I’ve read about planning a trip like this, I am not listening to any of it and instead am listening to myself and am not planning anymore than I absolutely must.
And yes, I’m pretty sure this makes me a huge idiot but it’s the only way I can balance the excitement and exhilaration with the grief and sadness. Ho hum Xx