The countdown’s begun.
No, not to the UK election.
I didn’t manage to escape it, but given Tory floundering, flapping and flitterbugging it’s proving to be most interesting. Ok, flitterbugging isn’t a word, but I feel it should be in the context of state politics when you have a leader who lives in cuckoo land and obviously has Thatcher Complex. Ok, that’s not a syndrome either, but if there was, she needs some treatment.
Something amazing has happened though, opposition to conservative politics that isn’t just another form of conservative politics. Great!
Meanwhile on the world stage, I’m cheered by those who’ve stood up to the Strumpet.
Macron Speech (Uplifting 3 mins – don’t you just want him as your president?)
180 Mayors Adopt Paris Climate Accord (good read)
Countdown to what? You’re asking.
On the first day of this month I announced to the landlord that this envelope I have in my hand is the last rent you’re going to see from us, we’re moving out at the end of the month.
I thought he was going to cry. Honestly. He definitely doesn’t suffer Thatcher Complex. 10 minutes later he came knocking on the door to take a look at the place. He’d not visited for many years. He couldn’t even remember how many bedrooms it had. Long story short, an estate agent was coming to take a look at the place early in the morning. We were 2 hours short of going out to a concert (The Skids) for a bit of nostalgia. Never did we run around the house so fast to make it somewhat respectable for a visitor.
Despite our efforts, even the estate agent had to remark on all the camping gear laid out in a super organised way over the floor of one of the rooms. It inspired lots of questions and I think even the landlord was impressed. Then the agent asked, with a look of – this is obviously an impossible task – what are you going to do with all your stuff? And here we were congratulating ourselves on how empty things look and how much of a dent we’ve made in the lifetime of (Verd’s) stuff.
So now the countdown begins. 27 more days before we’re living out of panniers.
It’s 7 weeks since caffeine withdrawal and I can report I’ve not made myself a single cup of strong, red brew. This is something of a feat, given for the last 7 weeks, Sundays have started with a rise of 4:30 am to get a good spacious spot at the local car boot sale. We’ve now coined the term “boot lag” as the after effects run over to Mondays, especially when you no longer punctuate your day with regular caffeine breaks.
However, the benefits far outweigh the occasional immediate desire to nap. I’d been experiencing some digestive issues, and I don’t think it is coincidence that I can report something resembling normality for over a month now. It could be due to drinking mint tea, to no longer being exposed to soya milk or a combination of both.
Meanwhile, the weekly non-enthusiastic run is now a three-weekly more determined regime. We’re getting our fitness back for the demands of the journey. Determined means sticking to the programme, even if the pace is barely more than walking. Should be doing 5k next weekend.
Now the frenzy of de-ownership activity is beginning to subside, this month will be concentrating more on the bikes and bushcraft. We might have time to learn how to hang a tarp and hammock, and to use our knives without losing a finger. Oh yes, I nearly forgot – how to ride the bikes with weight on the back.