“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life” ― Jack Kerouac

Up until now I've felt like a ever so slightly more feminine Santa Clause, writing a list and checking it twice.... thrice... four times?  It had even got to the point that I was making lists of the lists I needed to make. I've been planning, I've been thinking and now i'm going. I've spent the day checking these list and laying out what I want to pack.... then halving it. I have too many clothes yet no where near enough, it's all such a dilemma. I mean how is any one supposed to pack 4months and 3 seasons into 1 suitcase with a 20kg weight limit! In the end i've come to the conclusion  to be in denial about winter and generally any weather conditions unsuitable for the beach. My lovely cat Domino has been following me like Woodstock to Snoopy all day after witnessing his dreaded suitcase, in fact he's collapsed next to me right now, although, that's probably due to the half a pound of left over duck he just consumed after our fair-well Chinese. My flight is at 9:45am tomorrow, the 18th August, and for some mad, unknown reason my alarm is set for 3:30am so time to head to bed to excitedly lye awake all night. Wish me luck!