8 hours, 6 minutes...is that countdown starting to freak anyone else out?
The bike's packed up in a box, and everything (hopefully) I'll need for the next 3 months has been stuffed into panniers. My flight leaves for London at 8:15 tonight. I finally arrive in Tallinn, Estonia, on Monday the 30th, where I'll meet up with Damien and the two of us will begin the trek!
This will be the farthest north I've ever been (St. Petersburg is on roughly the same latitude as Whitehorse), my first time visiting continental Europe (not to mention Asia), my first time on my own in a country where I don't know the language, and easily the farthest from home I'll probably ever be.
7 hours, 59 minutes. See what I mean?
Bah. What better goal than to "reach the ultimate shore," as the great Mongol general Batu Khan put it? It sure beats working.
At this point I'll quote Henry J. Tillman (whoever he is) who once said, "The saying "Getting there is half the fun" became obsolete with the advent of commercial airlines."