I confess it. I rather enjoy the moment when I casually drop into conversation where I will be next week.
"Can we catch up next week then?" "No, sorry, I'm cycling through Myanmar next week."
Responses vary from "oh, well the week after then" to "blimey, that's a long way to cycle" or "wow, amazing. Can I come?"
The point is, it's next week! We fly on Saturday at noon, and arrive in Yangon, via Bangkok at 0845 on Sunday morning.
The bag is standing ready, groaning with padded cycle shorts, chamois butt'r, antiseptic hand-wash, a cycle saddle, bar ends and my trusty helmet.
Not your average packing list....!
But then, nothing about the next few days will be remotely average: from the moment I meet with my 20 companions, the majority I have never met before, to the inevitable assault on the the senses that the heat, humidity, food, language will be. It will be something completely different.
And that in itself make the whole adventure such a mouthwatering prospect.
Just two more sleeps. Bring it on!
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