At this time tomorrow I’m flying high over Africa. Right now I’m doing everything again for one last time. Yesterday night we dressed up and went for dinner at Indian Summer, my favourite restaurant. Now we’re off to lunch at Hare Krishna, some gift-shopping in Rose Hill and a final farewell to everything that has been my home for two months.
I have loads of things to do today. In exactly two weeks I’m going to Egypt, but I’m not going home before that, so my dad has to pack my stuff to bring it to Denmark when we meet there. Everything that is happening somewhere else doesn’t feel real. I know my father has to pack, but right now I’m living in a reality where I don’t understand that he has to. He is living simultaneously somewhere else, but because he is so far away it doesn’t feel real to me. I’m taking loads of stuff with me home from here, though. Memories, over 3000 pictures and great friends. Some of whom I’ll meet up with later, others I probably never will see again.
Right now I’m back to feeling the same as when I waited for my flight from Paris two months ago. I’m going, and I don’t feel anything about it. Maybe just a bit empty. It will be good to see family and friends, and it will be sad leaving family and friends. Altogether this makes me feel careless. But tomorrow at 5:45 am it will hit me hard in the face.