Ready to go

The last four weeks has comprised a long series of goodbyes on my run up to moving to South Africa…

From those in the office, to those in the pub. From old friends in London, to new friends in St Albans. From visiting my father, to visiting my mother. It seems to be a never-ending process. Not one that I make begrudgingly, don’t get me wrong. I have enjoyed my mini-tour to see family and friends. But I am now ready to go.

The recurring questions generally revolve around,

“Are you excited?”

“Are you nervous?”

To which I always answer “Yes, a bit of both.” The relative proportion of each varies from one moment to the next. And as much as I am happy to answer the questions, it seems I have answered the same questions hundreds of times now. My response has been mastered and refined over and over again, like the reworking of a speech. I suppose it could be likened to a boxer or an athlete being asked a continual stream of repetitive questions running up to the big event. So now I am at that stage that they must reach, when they are tired of the talk and the chat. They, as I, just want to get on with it. To start the fight. To start the race.

I am ready to go.