The day draws nearer to when I pack my life into a couple of suitcases and leave the country of my birth. I realise that, other than some brief forays around the world, I have never uprooted like this. There has always been some sense of a home for me. That home, for so long now, has been Wellington. I remember keenly the excitement I felt first moving to this city, having grown up in sleepy Napier. The people were and still remain so fresh and beautiful. The streets and alleys, however, have lost their mystery. I have to find somewhere new to get lost in.

I am reading Jack Kerouac's On The Road which is perhaps the most perfect book to be reading at this time. It has instilled me with the desire to discover. The aim is not to settle into a life in the UK, but to experience and to find adventure in life. The destination is not the destination, the journey is.

In scarcely more than 20 days from now I shall be boarding a plane destined for halfway around the world.