So we are off. After months of planning and organisation it all began, rather undramatically, aboard the Megabus from Sheffield Interchange to London Victoria. It was a bright and sunny morning in Sheffield, but the clouds soon closed in. As we approached Rugby, the coach windows were splattered with a light drizzle.
Unlike our previous trip, to India, I didn't have that creeping dread - the feeling it was all a horrible mistake - in the run-up to departure. There were a variety of reasons.
Firstly, I had done it before, although quite differently, on the Morocco, India and Greece trips. The worry of not knowing if you can cope with three months constantly on the move and living out of a backpack wasn't there. I knew I could.
Secondly, there will be no sudden arrival, as there was when we visited India. Yes, Russia, China and Vietnam will be alien and potentially difficult places, but we won't appear there seemingly magically, disgorged from an international airliner. By making the journey overland the pace of change will be more sedate; we'll see the alterations in the people and landscape take place gradually. With luck, this will guard against too much culture shock.
And thirdly, the sheer amount of pre-trip administration required no doubt played a part. Having to organise tickets, lodgings, visas and supplies - right up until the last moment - left very little time for apprehension.
However, all that said, I'd be lying if there hadn't been moments of sudden mental nausea. Those quiet gaps when you stop and think: "Why? Why am I willingly putting myself into such a situation? One that'll be stressful and uncomfortable, not to mention expensive and even, possibly, dangerous. Wouldn't it have been easier and cheaper to have flown - direct to Vietnam maybe, or back to India? Or easier still to have stayed at home. That way we could have enjoyed the allotment starting to produce crops. I would have reaped the benefits of a successful winter of running. We could have just gone camping in and around the UK instead."
Of course these questions came into my head, and of course they will continue to bug me, with more or less intensity, as the journey progresses. But I can find solace in the fact that we have done similar trips before and enjoyed it. And we know plenty of people who have successfully negotiated all or part of our upcoming journey and declared it amazing, or fun, or at the very least, eye-opening. Before India the same fears assailed me. But I was even more worried then and look at how I feel about that trip now.
no, to feel a mild apprehension is normal. It's complete absence would be, in a way, more worrying. Overall, I am remarkably untroubled at the moment, but let's monitor things, let's see how I feel in a few days time...
Unlike our previous trip, to India, I didn't have that creeping dread - the feeling it was all a horrible mistake - in the run-up to departure. There were a variety of reasons.
Firstly, I had done it before, although quite differently, on the Morocco, India and Greece trips. The worry of not knowing if you can cope with three months constantly on the move and living out of a backpack wasn't there. I knew I could.
Secondly, there will be no sudden arrival, as there was when we visited India. Yes, Russia, China and Vietnam will be alien and potentially difficult places, but we won't appear there seemingly magically, disgorged from an international airliner. By making the journey overland the pace of change will be more sedate; we'll see the alterations in the people and landscape take place gradually. With luck, this will guard against too much culture shock.
And thirdly, the sheer amount of pre-trip administration required no doubt played a part. Having to organise tickets, lodgings, visas and supplies - right up until the last moment - left very little time for apprehension.
However, all that said, I'd be lying if there hadn't been moments of sudden mental nausea. Those quiet gaps when you stop and think: "Why? Why am I willingly putting myself into such a situation? One that'll be stressful and uncomfortable, not to mention expensive and even, possibly, dangerous. Wouldn't it have been easier and cheaper to have flown - direct to Vietnam maybe, or back to India? Or easier still to have stayed at home. That way we could have enjoyed the allotment starting to produce crops. I would have reaped the benefits of a successful winter of running. We could have just gone camping in and around the UK instead."
Of course these questions came into my head, and of course they will continue to bug me, with more or less intensity, as the journey progresses. But I can find solace in the fact that we have done similar trips before and enjoyed it. And we know plenty of people who have successfully negotiated all or part of our upcoming journey and declared it amazing, or fun, or at the very least, eye-opening. Before India the same fears assailed me. But I was even more worried then and look at how I feel about that trip now.
no, to feel a mild apprehension is normal. It's complete absence would be, in a way, more worrying. Overall, I am remarkably untroubled at the moment, but let's monitor things, let's see how I feel in a few days time...
*
While waiting for the bus at Meadowhall a middle aged man asked me to mind his bag while he went out for a cigarette. He had a rucksack and sleeping bag and looked dressed for backpacking. Robin and I joked how odd it would be if we ended up sharing our journey with him, not just to the capital but all the way to Saigon.
"You heading to London then?" he asked when he returned.
"A bit further," I said. "Vietnam."
"Oh? What flight?" he asked. I told him we were travelling by train.
He gave me a look of baffled amusement. "I didn't know you could."
He was a solar panel installation consultant, on his way to Bangkok. He was picking up a motorbike there and riding it through Cambodia and Vietnam. I joked he'd get there a bit quicker than us.
"I'm working for an NGO out there," he continued. "I came back from a similar project in Africa last week." He'd been to Southeast Asia many times, including a spell living in Thailand, hence the bike waiting ready for collection in Bangkok and the friends in Vietnam.
He had a stuffed toy giraffe strapped to the outside of his rucksack. Was it a souvenir of Africa? A gift from somebody in Thailand? It looked so out of place compared to rest of him - lean, tanned, purposeful. But the bus arrived and we never found out. Perhaps we'll see him again in a few weeks time and he can tell us then...
*
We met Paul at his house in Gibson Square and had a relaxing evening there. Paul cooked us pasta with Quorn - our last proper meal for a while. We watched a few episodes of Prison Break, accompanied by a few glasses of wine and few more of Strongbow. The show is based on a ridiculous concept - a man breaks into prison in order to help his wrongly incarcerated death-row brother escape - but nonetheless it's very watchable and unintentionally hilarious. All in all, it made for an ideally low-key evening, perfect before the hectic travels of the next few months...
