Time marches on and the day of departure looms closer. Inevitably, doubts also arise and seem logical to consider. Anybody else who was single & healthy, with some savings and a well-paid job might consider putting a deposit down on a flat and setting some money aside for a shiny hatchback and gym membership. Isn’t that the normal thing to do?
Comfort, clean living, security, the promise of a tidy pension fund – why don’t I want that? What the hell’s wrong with me? Why on earth is an intelligent man in his mid-forties deciding to abandon all that and instead go cycling around the dirt tracks of the world with a tent?
Lots of questions, all difficult to answer. Except that I know deep down in the core of my being that none of it would make me happy, it wouldn’t allow me to lie down on my deathbed and think to myself ‘what a great life that was’. I’ve been happy, I’ve had beautiful children and I wouldn’t change the past, but the future is in a different part of me. I’ve spied the other side of the valley and the hardship and sacrifices don’t feel important enough not to try for it.