I have a slight issue. 

I bought a standard-sized suitcase over. Not overly large (the infamous Leopard Monster remained in the wardrobe), it was fairly full on my departure. “I won’t buy much,” I proclaimed nonchalantly. 

Did I not remember moving home from Australia? Did I not recall having to buy baggage from Bali? Did I not recollect having to hide multiple purchases in Jason’s bag when his back was turned, on return from South East Asia? 

I like buying presents for people. Adore it. I get such a high from watching someone I love unwrap something that is so absolutely apt for them. One of the best moments of my life was being present (sorry, need to highlight that fantastic punnage there) as Deb uncovered her IPad a few birthdays ago. The expressions! The glee! She was utterly rapt! (Again, apologies). My heart truly lifted with joy. (I must include here that Hebio was the big spender in this instance, not me. I was the catalyst for the purchase, his card did the swiping). 

So unfortunately for my baggage allowance and suitcase size, the opportunities to acquire gifts for precious people in India has lead me into a bit of a pickle. It was only on return from Lakshman Jhula today that I suddenly thought, “Oh shit.” 

Items really add up. A pair of fisherman’s pants here, a wooden elephant there, a fair few saris there…. I attempted to put it all in an extremely strategic Tetris situation and found no amount of squishing, squashing or downright snapping would fit the load in with the zips zipped up. 

Currently considering options. The two leading contenders are as follows:

1. Layer. Wearing three saris, my Kathmandu insulation jacket, down jacket and hiking boots with a few pairs of yoga tights underneath on the plane? Doable? I think so. I’d most certainly be warm, if unable to move. 


2. Post home. I’m thinking perhaps a parcel to Norfolk Drive may be the way to go. Apparently Indian post is on the cheap side so I could manouver a mound of articles back to the homeland. But the thought of being parted from my presents fills me with dread; I’m so looking forward to playing Santa and ho-ho-ho-ing around to the recipients with a sack of goodies. What if they got misplaced in the mail? Devastation. 
I think the recourse is to send home all my yoga gear on Friday before I head to Delhi. And maybe some of my clothes. I don’t mind having to be the smelly kid with only one outfit for a wee while; you can air attire out at night, right? And I have some fantastic Indian aroma perfume to douse the armpit and such areas in to keep them fresh. If I just kept a pair of pants and a tee or so I’d have leeway for much more in Nepal! 

Will update on situaion as it unfolds (or hopefully folds up to fit).


Also: on my leave of home Henio gifted me with his elixir of life (well one of them – he didn’t hand over a forty ounce of Jim Beam), a 4x pack of berroccas. I fizzed the last one for ingestion a few mornings ago and am so saddened I’m out. 

Remember I refered to the fact that I develop assuredly ridiculous attachments to things? Drink bottles, tags off clothes, etc? Well I cannot, just cannot, bring myself to throw away the empty berocca tube. I feel like I’d be throwing away my father! It’s currently residing next to my bed and I feel such solace and consolation whenever it catches my eye. 

P.S: The wifi is back up and running! So posts galore. (Blog I mean, but a fair few jaunts to the post office for sending parcels homebound may be the go as well). 

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