in transit

Brisbane to Singapore: good; fine. Uneventful, almost.

As when hunger is so prolonged that eating is about easing the pangs rather than savouring the texture and taste; so I seemed somewhat desensitised to my departure. "Finally. Really? Yes."

Tonight, however, I leave Singapore after a relaxing break. This time I fly to Amsterdam and then to Norwich. Tomorrow I will be in my new hometown. A little savouring seems possible tonight.

sweet sorrow

I won't have time to post an entry before I fly out tomorrow. So here is how I envision my departure, through the words of William Wordsworth:

Where lies the Land to which yon Ship must go?
Fresh as a lark mounting at break of day,
Festively she puts forth in trim array;
Is she for tropic suns, or polar snow?
What boots the inquiry? Let her travel where she may,
She finds familiar names, a beaten way
Ever before her, and a wind to blow.
Yet still I ask, what haven is her mark?
And, almost as it was when ships were rare,
(From time to time, like Pilgrims, here and there
Crossing the waters) doubt, and something dark,
Of the old Sea some reverential fear,
Is with me at thy farewell, joyous Bark!

the chasm

I'm on an island at a busy intersection

I can't go forward, I can't turn back

Can't see the future; it's getting away from me

I just watch the tail lights glowing

One step closer to knowing

One step closer to knowing

-- From One Step Closer by U2

Here I am in this numb timelessness between the warm goodbye and a crisp hello. This landscape is littered with boxes and stray belongings; a desert governed by lists.

One step closer to going. One step closer to going.

So near yet so far

I feel close enough that I can almost envisage the life awaiting me across the globe. Or is it only a collection of my imaginings - nothing like the reality that lies ahead?

Image: Norseman by Shaun Tan, brilliant artist/writer/picture book author and illustrator

20 days 'til take-off

My visa has arrived! One week to go at work. Two weeks left in our unit. Three weeks 'til we're soaring above the Middle East, on our way to Amsterdam. Feels just a little like this fabulous vid.

What am I thinking?

[Image: Effervescence by Sarah B Hansen]

For the past 24 hours it's been bubbling up inside me - as though a packet of sherbet's been injected into my pancreas.

In little more than 5 weeks I will wake up in England, in some odd town; jobless, homeless, friendless and most likely cold.

What am I thinking?

Finally the "scary" part of "It's scary but exciting" is fizzing its way to the surface.

This is really happening!

viva la visa

Tomorrow - 30 days after applying for my visa - I can officially phone the British Embassy in Canberra to check my visa's status. However, the website already tells me that "a decision will usually be made 12 weeks after the application is received".

This would be fine, except for the ridiculous fact that the Embassy doesn't accept applications more than 3 months before one's estimated date of arrival. Last time I checked, 12 weeks was only a few days less than 3 months. Seems to be cutting it a little fine, considering this ticket into the country cost hours of my time and $1300. And did I mention I had to send my actual passport?

On a lighter note, I'm hoping my application isn't hindered by my embarrassing misunderstanding at the Brisbane office, where I had my "biometrics" taken. On arrival, all I knew was that the procedure involved the scanning of applicants' fingerprints and eyes. Weird, I thought - but we are living in "a post 9/11 world".

So there I sat, in the "biometrics" room. After pressing multiple finger combinations into a small screen, I was told to look at the lens on my left. Time for the eyes, I thought. I fixed my sight on the lens, widened my eyelids, and stared, frozen, ready for my eyeballs to be scanned.

*Flash*

Turns out the "eye scan" was actually a photograph - one that no doubt makes me look like a frightened freak. How embarrassment!

Stepping Westward - by William Wordsworth

"What, you are stepping westward?" -- "Yea."

'Twould be a wildish destiny

If we who thus together roam

In a strange land and far from home,

Were in this place the guests of Chance :

Yet who would stop, or fear to advance,

Though home or shelter he had none,

With such a sky to lead him on ?

The dewy ground was dark and cold ;

Behind, all gloomy to behold ;

And stepping westward seemed to be

A kind of heavenly destiny :

I liked the greeting ; 'twas a sound

Of something without place or bound ;

And seemed to give me spiritual right

To travel through that region bright.

The voice was soft, and she who spake

Was walking by her native lake :

The salutation had to me

The very sound of courtesy :

Its power was felt ; and while my eye
Was fixed upon the glowing Sky,

The echo of the voice enwrought

A human sweetness with the thought

Of travelling through the world that lay

Before me in my endless way.

(Photo: Wings in the Wind by A. E. Marty)

Two months 'til take-off

Such a strange concoction: the thrill of upcoming adventure mixed with the burden of organisation; the ache to clear out but the inability to do so -- yet the excitement of knowing that barriers to our exit will soon be removed.

Two months today 'til we hand back the keys to this then-empty unit, and say goodbye to our home of almost five years.

Two months 'til the roaming begins.