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We weren't just going on holiday, we were also going to a wedding. So, in addition to all the holiday staples like camera-film and holiday reading material, we also had to sort out wedding present and smart clothes. My first priority on that last day was to get a haircut, since the wild man of Borneo is not a welcome sight in the wedding photos.
Having been shorn, I attended the bargain bookshop (now deceased), wherein I bought a couple of classic tomes for a mere pound each (maybe that's why). Then it was time for home and the preparations for departure.
Since the bus was leaving at 2.30am and since we did not want to wake at 2.20am and die of panic, we had decided to stay awake. It's a bit like having a sleep over with no guests when you do that. The biggest fear was to run out of things to do and to just sit around waiting for the time to leave. Equally, one would not want to procrastinate the packing and important jobs like locking all the doors and windows and then have to hurry them because it got too late.
Luckily, my beloved was able to do the bulk of the packing. This occurred late at night, after I'd fitted the remainder of the window locks we needed for the house-insurance to be valid (apparently it would not have paid if we'd been broken into before), washed all the clothes I possess and started cleaning, clearing and tidying the kitchen. In fact, we left the house in a better condition than we normally keep it in. I think this was so that if we got broken into while we were away, and the neighbours said they found the house in a mess, we'd not have to admit that it was normal!
We'd arranged for the neighbours to come in day and night, feed the fish, open and close curtains, turn off lights and poke around our personal possessions for their own interest. We didn't even need to ask them to do that last bit.
A terrible experience is when you see all of your clothes laid out in front of you and realise that they take up a small fraction of the suitcase space - you feel so small. I discovered that I don't actually have that many garments in my possession - I thought I was just lazy at washing! What's even more terrible is when you realise you'll have to "recycle" some underwear when you're on your holiday, since M&S isn't open at 1 o'clock in the morning to buy extras.
With packing complete, the kitchen showing signs of hygiene I only ever dreamed of and sandwiches having been prepared with my loving hand for the journey, it was a case of showering and readying for the off. We arranged for a taxi to meet us down the road so that he wouldn't see which house we were abandoning and be able to let his gang-land oppressors know when they locked him in his boot. Not that we were in any way worried about the fate of all our worldly goods in our absence.
The weather outside was raining, which was better than the snow it started with.
The taxi met us where we asked, but drove past as we were leaving the house, so he probably saw us anyway and we could have saved ourselves getting wet if we'd let him pick us up from home.
Halfway to the bus station, I realised I'd forgotten my sandwiches. Pride and laziness stopped me asking the driver to take me back for them - anyway he'd have seen the house. So they went to waste.
We reached the Haymarket bus station about 2.10am and the journey was about to begin - I gave the taxi driver all the english coinage I had about my person, which exceeded (just, thankfully) the price on his meter. It was time to catch a bus.
Written: May 1998
Posted: 29 October 2001
Ashley Frieze