I always struggle with whether or not to write about "getting ready" because really does anyone care that I spent months figuring out an itinerary (Shropshire was under consideration for some time partly because it is so much fun to say Shropshire), that I agonized over some reservations, mainly those of the AirB&B variety because I did not trust that the host would be around to admit Rojita now equipped with her fully-charged, Americaloc tracker,
or that one accommodation, a converted bus, that I was especially excited to stay at/in is no longer because a flood destroyed it, or that converting from a physical SIM card to eSIM caused much anxiety until I figured it all out—initial help from Alex here—but actually it turns out to be way better, or that I switched from packing cubes for clothes to large plastic bags, their see-through property having obvious advantages? Probably not. But it helps get into the swing of things and acts as a check to assure Google Photos is doing its job.
Finally, the routes are established, reservations of various sorts confirmed, locations of grocery stores noted, cables for devices accounted for and accounted for again and maybe even two more times, maps loaded onto GPS and phone, and it is time to embark.
But alas, my grandson, Max, is handily disappointed, because as he was giving me a refresher course, showing me a thing or two, he determined that it would be most advantageous to add ads to the blog. "Nana, it would be a money maker," he insisted, but I had to nix this economically attractive suggestion despite his insistent urgings. So neither underwear nor lamps nor promises of how to get rid of belly fat will appear in this publication.
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