So I have been on the road for a month.
Most of my trip has not gone as expected, but then again, I had very few expectations.
Some things I expected.
I expected a few car troubles.
I did not expect to have to be pushed off the road by a whole troop of policeman after running the battery flat in front of the Queen’s Torch for the Commonwealth Games.
I expected to talk to a few strange people.
I did not expect to be stalked, I did not expect to be asked to be invited to Spain to be a seventy year old’s mistress.
I did not expect the scenery to be so amazing.
I did not expect to realise that I may actually have a soulmate.
I did not expect to be rescued by amazing people.
I did not expect to be so utterly fantastic at finding public toilets.
I did not expect that it would be so tiring.
I did not expect the complete lack of internet in large parts of the UK.
I did not expect it to be difficult and sometimes terrifying to approach people with simple questions.
I did not expect to find people, now and historically, who really think similarly to me.
I did not expect it to be so difficult to find a power point to plug a computer into.
I did not expect to be someone who would make Vodafone reconsider allowing people unlimited phone calls.
I did not expect to be so accepting of my imminent return to Australia.
Next time I won’t pack as much stuff.
(I have used maybe 10% of what is in the van)
Next time I might either take a group of people or take a less conspicuous van.
(I was told of the positives of simply taking a Ford Transit that you can crawl into the back of without anyone blinking at it twice, but Hans was too amazing to turn down)
Next time I will take much, much more time.
But, as much as this has been a trip of more adventures and less work than expected, it is putting me in the right stead to do it better next time.
And there will be a next time.