The Thing I’d Hate To Lose The Most.
I’ve been keeping a diary, and it’s maybe the second or third time in my life I’ve ever given it a good crack. It’s not complicated – basically the number of days since we left home, a date, what town we were in and what we did. It doesn’t even have much detail, but enough so that we can remember the day and what we did. In the whole time we’ve been away there’s only a few days we can’t really remember specifically… probably because all we did was hang out on a beach, drink some beers and eat (as if you weren’t jealous enough already :P)
The best bit is it takes me 10 minutes every few days to update it, and it works well for planning too in that our very, very rough plans are written in pencil for the days/date etc. I’ve started recording details (time/distance) of some journeys to try and find the worst in terms of average speed… winning at the moment is the following enrty:
3/10 188 Sam Neua=>Phonsovan: Old bus, bump start, 274km’s/10hrs. Newborn baby, stop start.
That’s enough for us to remember the place we stayed the night previous, walking to get a taxitruck, getting on the 1950’s Russian or Chinese bus, the grandmother with her newborn grandson (or maybe great grandson), them sharing their freshly harvested, undried rice with us as a snack, the baby’s stitched and black umbilical/navel, having to stop for a toilet break on a downhill so the driver could bumpstart the bus, where we ate for lunch, the commotion as people arrived at their destination to be greeted by loved ones, the floorboards and the big curved windows on the bus and arriving late at night into Phonsovan.
It works for me.