Decisions

Okay, I’ve finally decided. Well maybe not finally, but enough for now. As soon as the house is sold – and that’s looking good so hopefully only a few weeks to go now – I’m going to get a cheap flight to Morocco – Easyjet do them for just a few pounds and mooch around there for a while.

I’ve been checking the TEFL websites – looks like it won’t be a problem finding English teaching out there – whilst I might be solvent after the house sale, I don’t want to blow it – so many opportunities out there – so really want to work my way round the places I go. Then, when I’ve been out and about a bit in Morocco – really keen to play with the camera there – I’m going to head off further afield.

I’ve always had a regret over a missed opportunity. I was offered a teaching job by the forestry commission in Laos and I couldn’t take it. Like all my past regrets and bad decisions it involved a man in my life who couldn’t have gone too. (Note to self: stop living your life for anyone else, ever). I didn’t think that there was any way that an opportunity like that could ever come up again – but it now looks like it won’t be a problem to get work there. Laos and Vietnam (and Cambodia, come to that) all really appeal. I realised this yesterday as I was poring over the atlas trying to decide where to head off to.

I had been planning on joining some others on a journey down through West Africa by Landrover, through to Dakar, then on to Mali and to the Festival of the Desert there in January. This is very much in the planning stage – and will probably go ahead, but a few things have been bothering me about it. Mainly, I have to admit that my control freakery means that I don’t like not being the one making the decisions. I have always travelled alone and this has worked for me for a number of reasons. Firstly I think it’s safer. You can always extract yourself from situations easier if there is no one else to consider. You can tell whatever lies help you out of danger without the concern that there might be someone else who has given away something different. And people really want to protect you if you are a woman alone because they perceive you as being at risk. Secondly I realise more and more how much happier I am alone (and I think most people are, if they are honest – looking at couples travelling together, it amazes me how rarely they both seem happy – especially when they are not in self absorbed mode). When I’ve been on holiday with close friends or even stayed with them, or them me for more than a few days, I need a long, long break from them afterwards. That’s not normal, I realise, but it’s how I am, so if no other advantages come from age (and many many advantages do come with age) then at least I can recognise this. And behave accordingly. How awful might it be to spend six or seven weeks with people if you ended up not liking them or, maybe worse, if they don’t like you. I love spending time with people, between big chunks of aloneness. Funny that – it must be me being unusual, but the only times I’ve ever been lonely or bored have been times with people I care about.

There were also the risks being taken on this trip. I am not risk averse – oh God I sound like a financial advisor now – but I like the risks to be my risks, not someone else’s. I’m not convinced that travelling by car through Algeria – or through Western Sahara, Mauritania and Mali are safe – even if there are two cars travelling together. Maybe if this festival had been a dream of mine, it would be worthwhile, but, whilst it appeals, I don’t think that it appeals that much!

There’s another factor. I looked at going to South America too – thought of taking a Spanish course out there, then travelling for a while through Peru and Chile, maybe over to Venezuela. No matter how interesting and exciting West Africa or South America sound, I keep feeling really drawn back to South East Asia. I lived in Thailand for a few years in the early nineties and loved it. I have no real interest in going back there, but the idea of travelling round, or more relevantly, living in some of the other countries in the region really appeals. So maybe I fly to Thailand, catch a train over to Laos, then, when I’ve been there a while, carry on to Vietnam, and then on up to China (oh and maybe throw in Cambodia sometime along the way too – could just head down there for a holiday I guess). That should keep me occupied for a few years. I must look up what the borders are like round there. Can I skip from one country to the next?

Part of me wonders why I would go to Morocco first, and if I didn’t want to take photos there, I probably wouldn’t bother, but it’s an itch I want to scratch before the main adventure.

I wonder if I’ll ever come back.

I had intended to go over to North Africa, have a while there, then come back to the UK for the festivals next summer before heading off in August next year for more adventurous climes, but……

Now I’ve got a bit more of a firm plan in my mind, I don’t think I want to head off that late. Part of me wonders about going to Morocco at all. It’s almost like a holiday before going travelling. And if I’m going to do that, wouldn’t I be better doing it in Laos, or Thailand – I know – I never got up to north Thailand – maybe I could finally visit Chaing Mai.

Oh no, confused again.

Anyway, I’ve got to tidy up. It’s no good time wasting like this. I must tidy up. And in what world did I think spending the last 45 minutes perfecting to sing along to the Ladies of the Court of King Caractacus was a good way to spend time. I may now be able to almost keep up with Rolf Harris talking about the fascinating witches who put the scintillating stitches in the britches of the boys who put the powder on the noses of the faces of the ladies of the harem of the court of King Caractacus but the people who are buying my house are coming round soon – and the house has degenerated into it’s usual messy state since the weekend.

I seem to have an amazing ability to whirlwind around rooms creating the most incredible mess out of nothing. When I arrive at hotels I seem to make the room embarrassingly disordered before I’ve done much more than arrived and taken off my shoes. And no, putting my shoes back on doesn’t help. So with a whole house to play with the opportunities for destruction seem almost immeasurable. And it takes such a long time to sort out the mess. So really should go now.

But just before I do, I’ve been sorting all my cds on to my laptop in preparation for boxing them up before travelling. And then instead of just dumping them on there are so many more excellent procrastination techniques. Not only do the songs need labelling, but also grading between one and five (and the ones that have slipped on from compilation cds like Kylie singing how she should be so lucky, obviously need dumping!) but then there are further opportunities to say the type of music, the album, oh and I’ve just discovered that I can add two freeform categories – do I want to know female or male vocalist, decade the song came out, whether it’s Irish chilled music against Irish lively music, if it’s African reggae, Caribbean reggae or UK reggae, or if the cd has a pretty cover. So many options.

And actually I haven’t made full use of the labelling already set up for me - whilst I understand acoustic, hip hop, techno, and even at a push acid jazz, what is trip top, primus or porn groove. Especially porn groove. I can’t get a tune in my head that could fit that description – maybe it should be a mission to find out.

After I’ve tidied up.