Every damn day, I pack like it was a trip to the Antarctic

I’m going to London this afternoon on an impulse with flatmates who are going down for a talk or workshop in sociology. Am planning on rocking up to a few theatres at the 6.30 mark and seeing whether there are stand by tickets or returns for anything I’m interested in seeing. Not much of a plan, but need to get out of town for part of the day.

So I know the contents of my backpack and overcoat pockets for this little venture will include:

wallet, keys, mobile (obvious stuff);

digital camera (remember to change batteries and memory card);

iPod (check battery charge before leaving, lament loss of one fuzzy earpiece cover);

water-bottle;

muesli bar, piece of chocolate, fruit;

snack dinner for consumption in a park (chicken risotto);

novel (for tube and periods of waiting);

guidebook, train timetable, tube-map;

gloves, beanie, scarf; and

my collapsible travel umbrella (if not lost by my flatmate at the drinks reception for Prince Charles at Trinity on Monday, where we behaved, of course, impeccably, did not drink too much and certainly did not repair to the King’s bar afterwards, and did not round off the evening with G&Ts in the kitchen).

Now where did I leave the damn husky dogs?

In other news, caught up yesterday with Melbourne blogger Michael on his whistle-stop in Cambridge as he shuttles about catching up with friends, family and generally seeking employment as part of the great Aussie invasion of the green and pleasant land.