sometimes I get the feeling that only by a lack of imagination I could have decided to do this trip:
While so many people said they never could that I was convinced I could. And now in waves the feeling “why give up the normal life? why do that?” overwhelmes me.
Inbetween I just prepare, clean the apartment, empty my wardrobe (friends will live here during this year) and think about going by bike as I am used to do, only longer and everyday.
and sometimes I am only realistic and neutral:
How will it be to sleep in my tent, alone for the first time (in a tent) and waiting for animals making sounds or for people coming to chase me off?
I dont like it but it is within the field of my experience and I know, for a long time those animals will be no tigers (dont know exactly about Thailand or Cambodia) and those people will accept an excuse instead of collecting my scalp.