Eleven years living in one city is a long time for me – it’s shocking how fast that time went. Seven years in the same house is even more weird. I got stuck with it in the settlement with my lovely wife when we divorced in 2007. By 2012 I was ready to get out of the house. My job was no longer very interesting, and DC bored me. Time to go.
At first it was hard clearing 11 years worth of stuff out of the house – including a bunch of crap that my lovely wife had left behind, and which I hadn’t dealt with. I should have chucked it the first week she was gone, and now it’s been sitting there for 5 years…
I finished work 2 weeks before departure, thinking that would give me plenty of time for selling remaining stuff, cleaning out the house, giving away whatever was left over, and finally, figuring out how best to load my remaining worldly goods onto the bike. I’d set September 1, 2012 as my departure date, and it hit the target – albeit at 1pm in a ball of sweat after doing all those last minute things. I did a pretty good job of cleaning up I think, considering the house was soon to belong to the bank.
Eventually I would appreciate the freedom of not owning all that “stuff”, but right then it was hard not to feel a sense of loss. Not only stuff, but my job, my friends and my life in DC. It wasn’t so bad, why did I feel that I needed to just ride away?
The short answer was – if not now, then when? I’m not getting any younger. I’ve wanted to do this round-the-world thing for what, 30 years? Now or never right?