#002: One thing after another

I think it is fair to say I spent the last ten days before this trip in a state of perpetual motion. You may have thought you saw me sitting still for an hour or two in that time, but more-than-likely I was in quiet inner turmoil contemplating what was still to be done before the off. My apologies to you if I came across in any way distracted. Because I was distracted.
I immersed myself in lists to get things done. Indeed, I find myself at their mercy even now, into the second week of the trip. There is a list for things to buy (for this and other legs of the journey), a list for things to do (book flights, hostels, renew driving licence), a list containing useful links, a couple more for budgeting and, also, the makings of a list of lists to aid listing (I've numbered the pages of my notebook). However, there is one more list of greater significance than all the rest. And it is named The List...
I'm not sure if everyone is built the same, but my body has a habit of 'winding down' once it realises I no longer need a 24/7 supply of adrenaline. I had reckoned on this happening around lunchtime on Day One but, fortunately, Sam's (uni housemate) wedding meant I'd keep going for a day or two longer. It was a great day with the Exeter contingent; the most informal of weddings I've had the pleasure of attending, with the most eloquent of speeches delivered by the Best Men - Sam's brothers Ben and Tom. And my reputation for possessing snake hips is ensured, you'll be glad to know.
Day Two involved a one-way commute from Leicester to Huddersfield via Sheffield, as the first week of the journey would be spent with my sister Becky. The purpose of this leg, for the first few days at least, was to allow for the aforementioned 'winding down'. A couple of days in and both armpits and both groins felt they were preparing for the worst but, thanks to some professional-grade sitting-about and no little consumption of pure fruit smoothies, I was over the health-scare within 24 hours. Inherent laziness aside, the remainder of the first week featured a few casual excursions to the childhood haunts of York, Pocklington and Brimham Rocks. At Brimham it struck me quite how much of England is farmed. Sat atop a massive boulder in the North York Moors, the view revealed maybe five times as much pristine green pasture to barren heathland - evidence of the extent of English land ownership. My research for the British portion of the trip taught me you camp wild in England at risk of being shot, because every inch of it is owned by someone. Over the centuries this country has become obsessed with personal worth, not from a spiritual or cultural perspective, but in title, deed and financial legacy.
I've tried, over the last few years, at the proverbial nine to five, financial stability, corporate success, responsibility for a 'property'. A thoroughly Western, corporate way of life, feeding the capitalist machine with my purchasing power. And I liked it; the independence to do what I like, with the money to fund it and the friends to share it with. It has taken a while for me to truly realise there are alternatives out there, and I intend to find some of them while I am away.
I feel I must confess that, over the coming year, I am obliged to 'find myself'. It is written into my *cough* objectives *cough* at *cough* work *cough* that I am to return knowing what exactly I wish to do with my life. As I write I'm interested, more than anything, to find out if such a thing is even possible. The List, then, will be a record of all things I consider, during my journey, to be potential answers to the question: "What do I want to do?"
Given my opening muse of the journey, I would be lying to myself if the first entry on The List was anything other than deep space visitor. Not astronaut as such, just someone who gets to see the Universe first-hand, like a trip to Margate on a Saturday afternoon. I might need a few extra weeks off mind.