The last few days have been a rollercoaster.
Thursday saw me running around like a headless chicken trying to get things in place, ferry tickets, packing, laundry, insurance, while trying to ignore the hangover from leaving drinks the night before. I went to bed knackered, stressed, and wondering what the hell I was doing.
Turns out that cycling through the Surrey Hills in a PA peloton is a decent cure, with the October sunshine breaking through the cold, clear morning. Check out Peaslake for amazing pasties and a cyclist hangout - though on my tank-like tourer, 'Brutus', I'm not sure whether I would join team mountain bike or team racer...
Yestival went by in a flash - so many people. Old friends, new friends, all gathered round the campfire, talking about the highs and lows of life, and working out how make the most of everything we have! The mist gave the field an ethereal feel, something that would sing for a weekend and then be gone back into the ether - enjoy it while you can. We all did.
To leave Yestival without inspiration would be a challenge indeed - I certainly felt excited and ready to go, if a bit sad at all the opportunities I would be missing out on over the coming year or two. After my own talk, having babbled through as fast as I could, I felt much calmer and ready to make the most of everthing on offer.
The goodbyes were the hardest - hugs, hugs and more hugs. (Well - the hugs were lovely, the goodbyes less so.) It hasn't yet sunk in that I will be away from friends and family for so long.
The grand send off was wonderful - Matt and I left the site bounding from the energy of the crowd, cheers ringing in our ears. We made it as far as Pulborough before stopping for lunch - the café by the river gave us a final view of Little England before we headed up over the downs, to Chichester, retracing Ham Sandwich to Portsmouth.
What to do at a final meal? The final goodbye. I left for the ferry, Matt for the train. Cast off into the ocean.