Suddenly I find myself in Prague. As unprepared as ever. Gods damn it, how can it be that I travel so much and still stress out completely every single time? Flailing around at the last minute, not having fixed half of what I had intended to do before setting out. Always, always, forgetting to pack something. A different thing every time; typically nothing essential but nevertheless annoying to be without. One could think I don't travel on average once a month, and on journeys longer than a weekend at least twice a year. That's a lot. Packing my bag should be a routine, and there should be no cause for lying sleepless with my heart racing the night before setting out. Because I do like seeing new places, doing things that shake my routine, and I typically find the journey itself very enjoyable regardless of means of transportation. So why all the freaking out? Sigh. Some day I'll become even half as well-organised and well-prepared as I'd like to be.
I'll get back to you regarding Prague when the general overwhelmedness has settled a bit.
Love and travels,