Pardon me for not writing anything for about a year.  Really there was nothing to say, nothing more than can be found in any predictable British soap opera.  Now finally my sentence has been served.  Masters degree finished, contracts ended.  This is the part where I settle down and get a job with good prospects, think about my pension, a mortgage, maybe a family, and of course feel terribly terribly anguished that I'm in the winter of my 20s.  Except I don't, and I'm not.  Much to the surprise of at least a handful of people, I haven't 'had my adventure' and got it out of my system, and am do not feel ready for the 'real world' of a nice full time job in England with 2 weeks holiday a year. 

 I'm sounding more cynical than I feel.  Actually I should be itching with anticipation because as soon as various embassies have finished processing my passport I'm going.  Of course back to China, but with it's going to take at least a month to get there.  This time I haven't arranged a job at my destination because I've no idea when and where that is.

Two years in England and I'm even more strongly convinced that you need to be a millionaire to get even a hint of the good life here.  I just need some good weather and good food.  Don't think I regret coming back though.  Perhaps it wasn't the best decision, but I've made some fine friends here, seen some new things, and had my eyes opened one or two times. 

 But why the lack of excitement?  Because I'm a terrible traveller.  I'm at least 50% dread.  I was just listening to old 7"s with my sister, and we danced around like a fools, and it was one of those moments that your brain especially captures and stores in order to bring back vividly when you're in that stranger's car in the middle of the desert or mere metres from crashing lightning on a barren mountain top, or hooked up to a drip in a dirty hospital, it's a memory just to remind you that you chose to be there, you put yourself in that situation.  You had the choice of staying in your nice cosy country in your nice centrally heated house yet you chose to put yourself in this place.  How many times can you make it out of such situations unscathed?  Will one be your last?

I'm going back to Paris, then to Germany to meet my travel companion, from there it's the very scenic route back to Asia.  No planes.  No more airports and queues and x-rays and waiting rooms. 

Was it really six years ago that I timidly boarded the plane towards rural China?  It all comes back to me as I get the same barrage of vaccinations, but this time China is the familiar, easy place.  Russia on the other hand... I don't think I'd go back there if it didn't stand between me and China.

Whatever happens, I'm sure there'll be something worth writing about.  I'll keep you posted.