Perth, Western Australia

We spent this weekend camping down south, as a final hurrah before going away. It was great, despite being fucking freezing. We went skiing in suits again. I drank my North Korean wine. We went for a last kneeboard and a last disc and a slalom. It was also sort of sad, though, because for a long time it’s felt as though this trip isn’t really happening. It was difficult to comprehend. You can’t really imagine yourself actually doing it, because it’s so vast and different to your life at home. But this weekend it really did feel like it was looming up, and I realised how much I was going to miss everyone and how much everything in my life was about to change.

My cousin Georgie, who is a flight attendant working for Qantas and based out of Sydney, was supposed to be in Singapore on the 28th. She told us we could come to her mind-bogglingly ritzy hotel and ask for her at the front desk, and I was totally looking forward to doing so at 4 in the morning, which I don’t think she’d anticipated. Then her flights changed and now she’s leaving two hours after we get in, so we’re back to our original plan of bunking down for the rest of the night somewhere in the airport, which is probably still crammed full of Europeans trying to get back home after that unpronounceable volcano messed everybody’s plans up. That’s a shame.

Anyway, I still have a dozen little things to do, and then I have to SUIT UP to go have dinner at Chris’ house.

1 day to go!

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