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To say the least, it’s really exciting!
About ten months after buying tickets, imagining an itinerary, skyping with my friends in Australia, crossing my fingers when checking with my boss if I could take the time out (thank you, M!), even forgetting about it altogether due to the long wait... now it’s only <48 hours for departure.
Packing and unpacking are my ultimate nightmare, convultions alpha to omega, when travelling. It’s a good thing I don’t wear formal clothes and don’t care about creases on my boring plain t-shirts. So, yes, I am still in denial. Apart from the piles of backpacks left half-ignored in my bedroom floor, there’s still no trace of departure at home, at all. Tonight’s the night, though (right!).
It’s always awkward to leave Lx behind though. No time or inclination for praises to Lx anymore: loving this city requires no explaining. Lx could be tattooed on me (wait…). The excitement of departing is terribly ambivalent.
But it is only so until take off.
Next stop,
Munich!
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