Why is it that we always seem to leave packing for a trip to the very last possible millisecond? More often than not, your cab driver has arrived and has set up camp out on the street (meter ticking) while you’re up in your apartment surrounded by a sea of clothes and stricken with panic. Breaking out into a cold sweat is not uncommon in these circumstances, as are sporadic outbursts to no one in particular. Yes, it’s a sorry state of affairs, but one I’m sure you’re all too familiar with (at least I hope I’m not alone here?!)
For me, this morbid display of unorganised behaviour usually climaxes with a broken backpack zipper, or a leaking shampoo bottle. It’s a beautiful moment, framed by silence. All I can do is rock back on my heels and let out a small whimper. That, and vow that I’ll be ordering copious amounts of wine on board the plane (if I make it, that is).
I put this all down to being an eternal optimist. You know – the ‘sure I can catch up with you for coffee in 10mins’ and still get back home with enough time to leisurely pack for a 3 month RTW trip that leaves in a couple of hours. Yeah sure. Right. And pigs might fly my plane.
Hmm…so, here I am. Again. Perhaps insight will save me next time round? I’ll start prepping a week in advance and schedule it to the hour? No, I need to find solace in the fact that this adrenaline filled packing frenzy is all part of the traveling experience. If I admit it, it’s actually quite exciting in a weird and twisted way – if only for the sheer relief that you have when you finally make it to the airport in time. This achievement alone is worth celebrating (insert duty free shopping here).
Right, best be off. I have a plane to catch. First stop Peru. Ciao for now!