8.30pm

It's like the shining. I'm walking down the long corridor to get on board my flight to Doha and the corridor is deserted. This is it. I am actually, self certifiably, clinically insane. I'm about to board a plane to go to a part of the world that 4 months ago I had no intention of going to in the near future because I felt like a change.

Most people's idea of change would be going to the 'Flora' instead of going to the local 'Blackweir Tavern'. Not so with I, I do not do things by halves. I fly for 18hrs to get to countries I had never previously heard of, having made no reservations or bookings and some of which are brewing a war with Sudan.

Arriving at Heathrow was somewhat unnerving. All the signs seemed to direct you one way and then evaporate into mid-air. The airport was heaving with people, many of whom were off to India and the Middle East, presumably to visit family with (on average) four children in tow of assorted ages and volumes.

The beautiful rucksack holder I had bought to protect my luggage didn't fit round it so was abandoned in the boot of Pat and Colin's car. A moment of silence please to mourn the first discarded item of the trip.

So now, after facing the 'shining corridor' where only the little boy with the tricycle was missing, I am sitting on my Qatar Airways light to Doha getting ready for take off and feeling rather ill, whilst chugging back Bach rescue remedy in a vain attempt to make myself feel 'calmer'.

Why am I doing this? I don't know. I'm crazy

Next time I know what I am going to do when I need a change.

I'm going to Tesco to buy full-fat milk instead of semi-skimmed... I like to live life on the edge.