It’s a strange feeling to be so close to the very thing I’ve wanted for so long; to be on the verge of doing something that used to feel virtually impossible. I can’t believe that in 15 weeks’ time we’ll be out there travelling the world after years of dreaming, saving up our money and obsessively planning our travel adventure. I should be jumping-for-joy ecstatic, singing-from-the-rooftops excited – and don’t get me wrong, I am – but why do I also feel so incredibly sad?
Stupid question, right - I mean, who doesn’t love to travel? Who wouldn’t swap the daily confines of work, family obligations and familiar surroundings for the freedom to go where you please and fill your days with adventure? It’s a no-brainer. However, as our trip draws closer I’ve realised the answer to the question is more complicated than that.