Travelling brings you the chance of adventure but sometimes preparing to leave can be an adventure in itself.

I my early mid-twenties, I went on a two-year working holiday that saw me face-to-face with a black bear in Canada, attacked by a shoe cleaner in Turkey and break my ribs in an outdoor mud bath in Greece. But if I think about it, my journey started on the bus home from work in Sydney.

I'd had another bad day at work, I'd recently broken up with my girlfriend and it was cold and wet. With my head against the bus window, I am forced to listen as the girl next to me tells her friend on the phone about the bloke she met on Saturday night.

As we came to another traffic-enforced stop, the blue neon light of a book store catches my eye and below it on the display shelf a Lonely Planet on Canada. I spring to my feet, jump off the bus and into the bookstore to buy the book.

That was when my trip started.

Five weeks is enough time to pack

I guess it was a bit of a shotgun decision but once I made my mind, it was all systems go; but even for me, five weeks of preparation for an open-ended trip was pushing it.

Apart from a vague idea of ending up in Canada for the ski season, I had no set plans of where I was going or doing. For someone who had led a structured life of school, university and then career, it strangely appealed.

Lying in bed that night, I was buzzing with the all the unknowns of what lay ahead; the places I'd see and people I'd meet.

While I pondered the endless possibilities of the trip, I'd only given myself five weeks to prepare - so much to do and so little time.

To do lists

I prepared similar to how I travelled, that is making it up as I went along.
In those five weeks, my life became one big 'to do' list; sell the car; give notice on the unit, move the furniture, close bank accounts, change addresses, haggle for airline and insurance fares and organise visas. During the whole time, I was literally sprinting during my lunch hours at work to get these things done.

Resigning from work was interesting. I had my weekly meeting with the boss just before lunch and all morning I was steeling myself with what I had to do. I started the job four months before but it was wrong from the start. I got through the meeting with the regular updates but when it came time to wrap up, I froze. She could tell by my look what was coming and her demeanor changed like a cloud covering the sun. I think she was more annoyed at having to go through the pain of recruitment than losing me but the effect was the same. With that out of the way, I was fully looking towards the trip.

Deciding to leave kept me busy after work too. Bars and pubs became a big part of my life during this time as the farewell catch up with various friends often turned into hazy drunken affairs that ate a hole through my finances.

How do you remember home?

For the sentimental people like me, preparing to leave for an extended trip entails a whole series of "lasts"; the last day at work, the last big night out with friends, the last time you may see the grandparents.

For me the greatest thing I would miss about Australia was the sun and surf as I was unlikely to see either for a while. I got to the beach every chance I could and absorbed every last detail; the course sand, the waves and the warm sun on my back, in case it all changed when I went away.

The big day finally arrives

Before I knew it, the big day had arrived. After the final airport farewells, I remember the weariness I felt when I sunk into my seat on the plane. There was no doubt the last five weeks had taken their toll. In that time I had burnt bridges, burnt my budget and was now simply burnt out. I slept as well as anybody on that overnight flight to North America which is just as well, because when we landed, the adventure started all over again.