I bustled about my flat grabbing random items of clothing and shoving them into my bag. My plush toys looked on with a combination of contempt and anticipation. Finally as I attempted to stuff a dressing gown into the pocket of my day pack my puffin broke the silence.
"Do you actually know what you're doing?"
"Of course I do," I snapped, "has anybody seen my nail clippers?"
"No but I've got a screwdriver you can borrow," offered the plague rat with a gap toothed grin. Finally the combined efforts of myself and a nearly a score of plush toys got everything packed and ready to depart. They seemed almost indecently eager to help me depart.
I'm traveling domestically for once, roaming random bits of my far flung homeland. Firstly I head south planning to horrify my Tasmanian correspondent by turning up unannounced on her doorstep. Assuming I survive this delightful little prank there will be the opportunity to pester albino wallabies and throw things at penguins before bidding the Apple Isle farewell and heading for the other end of the country.
Broome, my other destination is an inconveniently long distance from Tasmania and the dual destinations has required a slightly schizophrenic luggage arrangement as half my clothes need to stave off the southern cold and the other half have to deal with the northern heat. The result is that there is barely an item of clothing left in my apartment and my plush toys have already starting renting out the wardrobe space as an airbnb. I refuse to be downhearted though, if nothing else I will get a phenomenal view of more Australian airports than I have ever set eyes on. Sydney, Hobart, Melbourne, Perth and Broome will present themselves to me for inspection. In fact I will be spending so much time in Perth airport I may just wind up living there.
Just for once I have an obscure desire for companionship. To alleviate this I have waylaid a random pilates instructor and by means of outrageous promises I am neither able or willing to keep have persuaded her to accompany me. I can only hope that by the end of the trip Stockholm Syndrome has done its work. This will all be new for her. She has never been to Tasmania or Broome or indeed Australia more generally. Most importantly she has never spent several weeks in the company of a slightly delusional, plush toy addled degenerate with a shaky grip on reality and a tendency to snore. If you see any frantic cries for help inserted into any of the following blog entries you know she managed to grab the keyboard from me for a few seconds.
Of course a journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step. This is one of those phrases which sounds profound until you realise that somebody gained a reputation for wisdom by stating the bleeding obvious. In my case the single step is in the direction of Sydney Airport's domestic terminal. A state of affairs which would probably have made Lao Tzu turn around and go back to bed. Sadly I won't have the same opportunity as by the time I set out I'm pretty sure my plush toys will have changed the locks.
No comments:
Post a Comment