RIP Freedom

I am in mourning.

London, formerly my favorite city, is now the home of obligations and dissertations.  You mean to tell me I’ve got to pay rent?  And go to work?  Possibly most depressing is when my alarm goes off and I go to catch the bus.  It is now a red double decker that takes me into the heart of Kingston-upon-Thames, not a smurfy blue Busabout bus full of hungover travellers.


Oh, chariot.


I watch my Croatian tan rapidly fade as I sit on the couch, ‘working on my dissertation.’

This is how I work on my dissertation:

Log onto Facebook (warming up my brain)
30 minutes later:  Open Word and look at document
5 minutes later:  Check email
20 minutes later:  Delete five sentences of dissertation.  Write one.  Despair.
3 minutes later:  Look back on photos from trip.
40 minutes later:  Wander into kitchen for snack.  Become depressed at lack of gelato in freezer.
Repeat cycle for 2-3 hours, then close down computer and vow to really focus tomorrow.

I look at all of my stuff that has yet to be unpacked:  books, DVDs, piles of random paper that I’ve kept ‘just in case,’ shoes, clothes.  I have come to the realisation that I don’t need any of this stuff.  I wish there was somewhere I could sell it all and head back out on the road.  Sadly, I can’t think of a place that would pay good money for a chipped Prague mug or rejected drafts of my dissertation.

BUT.  Silver lining alert.
I’ll be at Stansted airport at six AM on Friday, October 3rd, to catch my flight to Stuttgart, where I’ll join a Busabout coach to Munich. Then I will participate in the great celebration that is Oktoberfest.

This will be an ideal way to complete my Masters Degree.




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  1. Hello! WOW!!! Your journey has been so SPLENDID and AWESOME! You are lucky to have this golden opportunity, and it is lifetime memories for you! I have enjoyed reading all of your blogs as well as pictures…they are great! Good Luck with your dissertation, and I know you will do fine! Love, Pamela

  2. I feel exactly what your saying about London.
    It’s like a home away from home, as when I’m not travelling I settle back here. But it almost brings on its own curse, as its the normal world that we all try to steer clear of until we have one pound to our name and have to resort back to working in a pub in London.
    The thing is that its exactly the same as Australia, but its cold all the time and the pay is ridiculous in comparison to the high expenses.
    So yes I am in london, after four months of spain, portugal, sun and fun… and I feel a certain depression that I don’t think will be cured until I set off again travelling.

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