March the 13th. Two months to go.

Having whispered my intentions at work, run around trying to secure the right bits and bobs, and syphoned most of my wages into savings, the time is nearing when there will be no further excuses keeping us in the quaint embrace of extreme West-London. With the May-time marker set in the sand around a year ago, this is one plan that’s evolved. That once distant horizon just a short way off now, I thought I might use this inaugural blog post to cover some of the groundwork that actually goes into this sort of trip…

The painful purchases

This phase came in January/February, and for the first time in my life, I became a retail hunter-gatherer. Wading through the murky swamps of (the?) Amazon and strolling around the (e)Bay, I managed to track down some rarities, chase some discounts, and bring home coupons. With the somewhat painful realisation that I spent less on my car than the four wheels that will be under us, I’ve cut back on the smoked salmon and reverted to Lidl’s own brand caviar.

Not a native in the land of massive red stickers, huge % signs, I can’t say that I’d rate my experience five stars and leave a TrustPilot review – so far as commerce goes, I try and get what I need rather than what I want, and that often comes down to convincing myself that it’s needed.

That said, each purchase makes the trip possible, so as painful and annoying as it is, it is another way of marking your progress in your planning. Once you have sleeping mats and panniers, you’re not too many steps off a full kit list.

Having bake-good bribed a couple of mechanic mates, the aforementioned wheels whilst still expensive, were really a cinch for what we could have spent. Calling in favours and asking pretty please when needed, we’ve kept our outlay pretty reasonable. Both bikes will be fully equipped and in touring mode by the end of the month, and the final item on our hit list is a tent, which we’re fairly hopeful of finding, by hook or by crook.

The biggest barriers so far?

Perhaps one of the hardest parts has been letting go of the neat little flat that I’ve made my home over the last 3 years. Just across the way of Hampton Court Palace and rich in memory, closing that front door for the last time really will be the turning a page. The little three-bed bachelor flat which was shared with two PhDs by the banks of the Thames was sandwiched below a shouty couple and above a curry house. Living with a fantastic bunch of people, it’s hard to remove yourself from the formula and exclude yourself from the next odd plan, flat meal, or waddle home from the local.

At once relieving but also fairly daunting was admitting that we’re leaving to our bosses. Whilst Stef works freelance as a prop maker and has that freedom. It being something she enjoys, potentially closing the door makes things a little trickier.

Myself, a fella working in the cycle industry, work has been useful in a sense, but also fairly monotonous. Leaving opens up a huge range of possibilities for me, and with a background in European languages and an Irish passport on the way, my status as a Plastic Brexit Paddy is all but finalised. The tour offers me a chance to get on the road and use my languages daily, as well as some time to really target a new path.

New age stuff, huh?

Taking our Tour to the internet

So, why the website?

In this internet age, the right to shout loudly about what you’re doing at any given moment is as paramount as your right to water. That being so, we got hold of a domain name as a bit of a plaything as well as a learning tool – stepping fearlessly into the brave new world and laying down a smattering of HTML, this site is a cosy little home for sillinesses once engaged in.

We’ll be updating this page hopefully semi-regularly, and whilst this has been a wordy start, we hope that most of our journey to come will be spoken in the pictures we take…