The Why

So, why does someone quit their job, sell their possessions, and move about as far as you can possibly go without NASA's help?

If you're reading this in New Zealand, all I have to say is "OE".

But for anyone else: In NZ there is a tradition called the O.E. (Overseas Experience). The typical OE involves a student-age person moving to England for maybe a year or two. You can go anywhere for your OE, and be any age, but going to London in your early 20s is the norm. It's estimated that perhaps a quarter of all New Zealanders are overseas at any time.

Why is this so culturally ingrained? NZ is extremely isolated and it can feel like a very small place. Wikipedia reports that the London Metropolitan area alone has over three times as many people as our whole nation. The UK has interesting and diverse countries all around it, while New Zealand has the culturally similar Australia.

So Kiwis flock to England, mostly on a Working Holiday visa. The Working Holiday visa enables Kiwis under 31 to spend 2 years in the UK. There are conditions - you can't work in your field of expertize, and you can only work for 1 of the 2 years. In essence, it ensures that you're young enough to survive the rigours of living on the poverty line while in the UK.

However, current statistics suggest that increasing numbers of Kiwis are waiting until later in life for their OE. Friends of mine did their OE straight after university. Because they had little work experience and skant savings at that time in life, they ended up living with maybe 5 people to a bedroom in a rough area on the outskirts of the city. It sounded a bit grim at the time, and sounds even worse now that I'm a little older.

But I do find myself envying the adventure they had. So now, as they drift home, buy houses, and have families, I find myself wanting to play catchup. Well, to be specific, I'll pass on the boozing and living in a slum, but I do want to check out the history. I'm fascinated by the European history.

List of Lasts

Just over 1 day to go before I leave. Everything I do is tainted with the nostalgia of "this is the last time that I'll..."

I think I've driven a car for the last time, I've seen my friends for the last time, I've had my last pie. I've had my last meal out and my last haircut. Tomorrow I'll have my last home-cooked meal and my last cup of tea. I hope you can get tea in England. I'll be a grumpy bunny if you can't.

This evening I did a practice pack. My original plan had me taking such luxuries as my touring bicycle and my tent, but the list has gradually been whittled down to a more limited and manageable size. Compounding the issue is the fact that my pack is quite small, so I have an airline-imposed weight limit and a pack-based volume limit. Tonight my carry-on luggage is about 8 kg, and my pack is around 15 kg. I just managed to fit most of the items I had gathered, but every time I turn around I find something vital that I had forgotten. A few minutes ago I realised I had forgotten to pack my shoes. It seems increasingly likely that I'll be wearing my boots, two polar fleeces, and a jacket on the plane to Thailand.

I did some searching on packing lists and turned up the following one at http://www.travelindependent.info/whattopack.htm. I defy you to find a longer article dedicated to the concept of minimalism.

I gave away a bunch of stuff today, so my leave-behind possessions are down to a few boxes. I'm pretty pleased with how that has gone. I won't exactly have all my worldly possessions strapped to my back, but I won't be far off it.

I'm beyond stressed and into a sort of zombie-esque state in which I wander round the house without a goal, or sit staring at nothing. Tomorrow is going to be ugly.

Finally, there is a bellbird singing near our house. That seems unfair. I've lived here for maybe 25 years, and I don't ever recall hearing a bellbird in this area. But now that I'm trying to leave, there's one chiming melodically outside my window. The little sod.

This blog can fly!

"What are you doing now?", he asked. "Do you keep a journal?" So I make my first entry today.
- Henry David Thoreau, 1837.

I'm not actually sure if Thoreau would be totally cool with the idea of everyone spending all day in front of computers, but the quote works so it's staying.

My name is James and I leave New Zealand for the UK in 10 days. I have 5 days of work left. I sold my car today. If quitting my job and selling my wheels were not dramatic enough, I also polished my shoes, which only ever happens on momentous occassions.

I'm almost at the maximum stress/panic level already.