The Time Has Come, The Pink Dolphin Said

Right.

The bags are packed. I have showered, dressed, got a cup of tea on the go and am currently uploading last minute Bellowhead songs to my phone. George, not being one to break with tradition, is taking his time getting out of bed.

Mum is sitting with me on the sofa at Phil (George's dad)'s house and is under strict instructions that I may need -LOOKING AFTER- today, in a way that only your parents can. Strong independant, intrepid explorers like me still get nervous about leaving home for 3 1/2 months, you know.

I think we've packed everything...

In fact, I think we have packed... EVERYTHING. I bought emergency wool yesterday because I panicked about not having any knitting the whole time we are away. Hopefully the backpacker life will rid me of this terrible, crippling addiction.

Yesterday was a day of manic hostel booking and printing, printing, printing. George and I are taking a not so small sapling's worth of paperwork with us, containing every possible date, time, code, address, itinerary and receipt possible. Surely this way it means NOTHING can wrong, right?

We fly to Rome at 5, then on to Rio!

Byeeeeeeeeee!