On the 25th november 2006, it was time. The day had arrived for me to trundle off on my epic journey towards the planets harshest continent. A continent that would take me 3 different flights and a cruise on a renouned "vomit comet", or "sailing pig of a ship" for nearly 4 weeks.
I stood waiting at the airport, contemplating my flghts and my stead, as to whether she was upto the job of taking me away from my loved ones. That done, i joined que after que, before saying my goodbyes, to those i'd leave behind, until february 08, (0r there abouts, weather permitting). I have a feeling, this term of phrase will be used all too often, and like all true Brits, i really will be tuning into the weather forecast.
I was only slightly nervous of my itinerary, but even more so when i stood in front of my "magnficent flying machine", would she really fly me from London heathrow-Dulles Washington-Buenos Aires-Montevideo?