I am so damn organised. I even managed to find a money belt, never mind it already has a broken zip and the material is so thin it'll evaporate in the sun.
Up until yesterday – blaming a cold and adverse weather conditions – my preparation had almost entirely consisted of reading what I consider to be one of the best books written on Uganda (though having only read half of another I may not be much of an authority). I'm not going to write the title because you will think I got it free in Cosmo. Instead here is the link to a review.
Now, all packed, I am sitting on my bed, wired on sudafed, tissues stuffed up my nose and feeling rather chuffed with myself, as if packing a bag were some kind of noble achievement. 36 hours until take off. That should give me plenty of time to get to London, get drunk and come back home again when I realise I've forgotten my passport.