Quit your day job. Go on. I dare you.

I was at Heathrow on Thursday last week to see my sister off on her round the world trip. She’s starting off in Borneo for a few weeks before making her way down through Australia and New Zealand to visit her twin and back through Mexico & South America. I think the Galapagos were mentioned too. It brought back memories of the first long overseas trip I did when I was 19. I’d just finished my A Levels and went to Australia for a year. Nearly 20 years ago now! There was no such things as email, I didn’t have a credit card and even cheap calling cards weren’t even a twinkle. I had a bunch of travellers cheques and some US dollars on that first stopover night in Manila, Philippines when I had 24 hours to kill on the way to Sydney. I felt completely on my own - scared to death :)

It’s amazing how much that has changed. My sister got herself an International SIM card for her phone. Obviously it’s bloody expensive for her to phone people up for a chat, but for texting and emergencies it’s perfect. Internet cafes and broadband all over the shop, Skype, MSN and all the rest of it, it’s a whole lot less cut off out there in the wide world these days. I got a text from her this morning telling me everything was going well in Borneo and she was just setting off to climb a mountain.

Getting older isn’t something I often worry about. I don’t even notice it, but this morning when I finally hauled myself out of bed and looked in the mirror I suddenly felt like I was getting old. I’m 32 next month - a very long way from being a teenager. Of course a couple of hectic weeks of working in London’s going to take it’s toll, but I was shocked at how rough I looked. Still a hot shower & shave sorted me out - it just takes slightly longer these days :)

It was great waking up in Brighton though. The sound of seagulls and the fresh sea air made my half-cut commute from Kings Cross last night more than worth it.

Whatever normal is supposed to be. That’s how I’m feeling as my second week in the smoke comes to an end. Being back in the UK was pretty stressful to begin with. The early starts, constant travelling, the people rushing around shouting into phones, busy office, the bombardment of advertising and strangely the food. British food suddenly seems much richer, bigger and just didn’t agree with me.

But I’ve adjusted now and things are going ok. The black dog’s gone completely - the change of scene and pace on top of the SRRI’s has lifted me from the rut, and I’m picking up some momentum again. I miss the mountains a lot and can’t wait to get back out there, but I’m enjoying living with my mate in Brighton and even though coming back to a London office feels tough at times, it also feels like it’s doing me a lot of good.

My boss came into the office this afternoon with an iPod Touch. It is, without doubt, the most brilliant hand-held device I’ve ever seen. If you think back to the early days. A landline telephone cordlessly connected to your ear. We’ve come a long way.

Bring on the iPhone. I want one and I want it now. And I don’t want an 18 month contract with O2 either. I need to buy it for £300, unlocked to any SIM card. Even my French one. In fact, I’d even go as far as to buy GPRS service from SFR (the French version of Vodophone) for when I’m NOT in range of an open wireless network. Which is practically never. Even on some of the trains from Brighton there are wi-fi networks.