What Color is My Parachute?

Who hasn't at one time in their adult life had to do a bit of career self-reflection? Unless you happen to have inherited stupendous amounts of money - and are quite happy to spend the rest of your life spending money you haven't earned - I assume you've probably been in a similar situation to me right now. I've just started my MBA so it's finally an opportunity to take a blank sheet of paper and think of what I really want to do next with my life!

I've NOT known what I wanted to do a few times already: when I was choosing what subject to study at university, what type of internship to apply for, what career move to make once I knew that investment banking wasn't my kettle of fish... So on the surface this is no different. But it's a thin surface because as soon as I start digging, I realise that for this to work, for me to really choose the right career at this junction, my approach has to be radically different.

Is the World really my oyster?!

I have the luxury of not having any geographical or family constraints, and genuinely not being overly driven by money (anyone who's worked for Virgin will understand this!). So I have to throw all pre-conceptions out the window, and be as open-minded about all the opportunities and learnings of an INSEAD experience.

As the MBA programme lasts only 10 months, the careers team suggested that we do a bit of self-reflection ahead of joining. And whilst past experiences (both in school and at university) have instilled a fairly unequivocal disregard for the added-value of careers teams  up to now, I was quite impressed the INSEAD careers crew during the Open Day so I therefore paid close attention to the links which they sent us. 

The first was an on-line multiple choice test, called 'Career Leader', which generates a Professional Report revealing one's core interests, motivations, career aspirations, strengths and weaknesses, etc. I'm not usually a strong believer of such tests so I was absolutely dumb-struck when I started reading the computer-generated report an hour later. Unfortunately you need a login and password to take the test so you'll have to take my word for it, but it described me better than I could have done myself - and probably better than both my parents could have as well (hats off to Director of Harvard Business School's MBA Careers who developed the test!). 

There were a few things which were out of sync, but clearly for a reason. I particularly laughed at the top 5 career path matches, which, in order of appearance, were (drum roll please):

1. Private Equity investment

2. Venture Capital

3. Sales management

4. Investment management

5. Investment banking

Sigh, sigh, and sigh again.

Who knows, I may have to eat my words if I end up back in London working in finance, but my little finger tells me that the likelihood of that is low. Thankfully my bottom match was Accounting which I was quite pleased about actually... nothing like a piece of paper confirming one's lack of interest in something!

The second notable link we were sent was to a video by Randy Pausch, a professor of computer science and virtual reality at Carnegie Mellon University, who learned that he was terminally ill with pancreatic cancer, a terminal illness, in September 2006. He gave an upbeat lecture entitled 'The Last Lecture: Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams' which became a popular video on YouTube. 

Randy Pausch's Last Lecture at Carnegie Mellon

I'm not 100% convinced that I know quite yet how to achieve my childhood dreams, but it's an inspiring life story, and it's certainly made me joggle my memory to recall my childhood ambitions. The first one I recall was one when I was very young and proclaimed to whoever wanted to hear that I wanted to become a baker (I loved French patisseries - some things never change). The other one was that I wanted to become a professional athlete. However, I soon realised that I was pretty average at baking and only marginally above average in sports! 

Whilst I've tried to curb my love of French patisseries since, the passion for sport still remains intact today. In fact, I'll never forget a discussion I had in my first week of university. I mentioned to a friend that I was really interested in careers in sport - anything from sports commentating to organising events - and she responded, in a visible state of shock: 'You have come to Oxford in order to become a SPORTS commentator?!!!'. Well, she did have a point, sport is hardly the most intellectual of disciplines on the surface, but like anything, in order to be exceptional in the world of sport, it requires the same sort of core skills as in any other aspect of life: knowing your own strengths and weaknesses, setting clear goals, being passionate, surrounding yourself with the right people, working hard, taking risks, etc.

 

And on that note, Pausch spends much of his lecture talking about ambition and the 'brick walls' which can sometimes complicate the realisation of ones dreams:

"Remember, brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. Because the brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They’re there to stop the other people."

Plan B?

This video instantly reminded me of J.K. Rowling's commencement address to Harvard Graduates entitled 'The Fringe Benefits of Failure', which is equally inspiring and well worth viewing if you haven't already: 

J.K. Rowling Commencement Address to Harvard Graduates

As the title suggests, Rowling suggests that failing can  actually be hugely beneficial, even if it may not seem that way at the time.

"It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default."

So whilst today I can confirm that I am neither a baker, nor a professional athlete, I'm more than ever prepared to challenge myself and take risks. And if all else fails, I know there's always Plan B of throwing on my evening wear and becoming Superwoman.

The Wonders of Provence

Calanques by La Madrague

Even though I don't have a designated room in Aix-en-Provence, and have virtually no belongings here - they're all stacked away in a lovely storage in North London - I still relish every moment spent at home in Provence.


Perhaps it's precisely because I've never lived in Aix that I appreciate holidays here so much. I love the fact that the house feels so far from everything but is still so close to everything that matters... a 3-hour train ride from Paris, an hour flight from London, 2 hours to the slopes of the Southern Alps, 40 mins to the coast, 30 mins to Marseille...


And then there's the food: the vegetable patch in the garden, the excessive use of olive oil, meals under the shade of the plane tree on the terrace, the home-made ice cream, the rosé wine, the hustle and bustle of the farmer's market. The list is endless but I'll cut it short because I realise I'm starting to sound like I work at the Aix Tourist Board (if all else fails post-MBA, perhaps something worth considering?!).


You'll have to forgive this little self-indulgence but it's been a while since I've had so much time off, and I can't remember the last time I spent more than a week at home. So the past month has been absolute luxury: I trust you'll agree that the 30C+ weather over the past few weeks fully warranted a semi-apathetic state where 'activity' involved casual paddles in the pool and gentle sways in the hammock, with the incessant sound of cigales often inducing unplanned siestas. Thankfully I've managed to squeeze in a few more active endeavours either spurned on by my (ultra) active mother or the arrival of friends like Cha-Cha and Lori.


Highlights of the past few weeks?

- A coastal walk in the Calanques between La Ciotat and Bandol with dark blue sky, the smell of fresh pine trees, a clear sea (and only the sight of a few jellyfish ruining the party)

Chateau de Carcassonne

- Attending an outdoor piano performance at the annual Festival de la Roque d'Antheron: well worth a detour if you're a fan of classical music


- The discovery of the lovely medieval town of Carcassonnne during the MEB reunion as well as a canyoning outing (a fantastic sport which involves walking, abseiling, jumping or sliding down gorges)


- A guided tour of the works of Belgian artist Pierre Alechinsky at the Musee Granet in Aix-en-Provence: see some of his works on the link below

http://www.google.co.uk/images?um=1&hl=en&biw=1280&bih=707&tbs=isch:1&sa=1&q=alechinsky+paintings&aq=f&aqi=&aql=&oq=&gs_rfai=


- A visit of the Chateau de Vauvenargues which Picasso acquired in 1958, with its stunning views of the Montagne Sainte Victoire

Picasso's Chateau de Vauvenargues

Such discoveries may help explain why I always come back home feeling that there's nowhere else I would rather be! But a few days before I fly off to Singapore I know that what I'll miss most won't be the sunshine or nice food (there's plenty of that awaiting me anyway!) but rather my friends and my pequena familia: from my ebullient mother and calm father (living testimony of the saying that opposites attract) to my charming bro and cheeky sis, it's always fantastic sharing quality family time at home! So keep in touch peeps and keep your eyes peeled for insight about what it's like being an MBA student in Singapore!

Kilimanjaro Trek (Rongai Route) - Day 5: Summit at Long Last!

Date: 5 July 2010

Summit: 5,895m

Altitude gained: 1,200m
Trek length: 5km ascent + 21 km descent

Walking time: 11.30hrs (6.30hrs to summit, 2.30hrs back to base then 2.30hrs to Horombo Huts)

The dream team at the summit 

Any day starting at 12am is either going to be very good or very bad and I guess this one has been a mixture of both. It's now just about 3pm and I've been up for the past 15 hours, and spent the majority of that time walking.

All trekking groups left base camp at midnight and as it's obviously complete darkness the headtorches made the whole thing look a bit like a KKK procession. I think there were probably around 100 of us in total and within a few minutes you could already tell the relative strengths of different groups: some were already visibly struggling whilst others were storming ahead. Not that this is a competition against other trekkers in any shape or form - this is a struggle against one own's fatigue, aches and pains, against the freezing cold, the wind, the lack of visibility, the moving stone scree, a fight against the mountain where everyone hopes to stand at the top and take a piece of it back with them.

My struggle started with the temperature, as my toes quickly froze over and my fingers felt cooler and cooler by the minute despite wearing two pairs of gloves. I had the opposite issue up top as I had too many layers under my thick (Michelin man style) down jacket, but couldn't face wasting any energy to remove layers. Both these issues were dwarfed by the next problem which I faced: the tube of my Camelback water pouch froze over so I was unable to drink any water. However, all this paled in comparison with what one of our group members had to deal with: Danish Mike, who was not taking any Diamox (which helps prevent the onset of altitude sickness), was repeatedly ill from 5,000m onwards. I was walking behind him for much of the night and whilst I felt like a complete zombie swaying in the night, I can only imagine how horrible he must have felt running on zero fuel.

It took us 4.5hrs to reach the crater rim at Gilman's Point (5,700m) and my memory of those hours is pretty blurred as I was pretty much functioning on auto-pilot. Long gone were the days of playing games of categories or guessing the names of celebrities. In fact, barely anyone spoke more than a few words during the entire time, such was the air thin and so low were our energy levels, and I even had to stop myself from falling asleep whilst walking at least a handful of times. The terrain helped ensure that I stayed awake - the loose foothold means that you feel like you lose about 10% of your footing with every step. The things that stand out in my mind include the watchful eye of the moon, the amazing stars, the lights of villages in the distance which looked a million miles away, the difficulty breathing, the elation at the few breaks we did have, and the warm cup of tea which our guides gave us a Gilman's Point!

Reaching Gilman's Point

Psychologically, reaching Gilman's Point in 4.5hrs gave us a real boost as we had thought we would take at least an hour longer, and we knew that the final 2 to 3 hr section - whilst still far in terms of distance - only involved a total incline of c. 200m... so after a short rest, we set off again now hoping to make it to Uhuru by sunrise. As the volcanic scree was thankfully gradually replaced with snow / ice, we started crossing trekkers already making their way back down.

The elation I felt when I first spotted the eponimous Uhuru Peak sign was very measured. I still had about 100m to go and had to maintain my concentration in order to avoid falling on the rock-like ice formations... And there was another distraction, as we approached the sign, the sun began to rise above the right side of the crater, gradually illuminating our group, the peak, the nearby glaciers and the entire horizon below. Our timing could hardly have been better and the view can only really be compared to the sort of view you might see from an airplane, 10,000m high with clouds obscuring the view below, with a stillness and a feeling of being truly on top of the world... albeith with 40% less Oxygen and frozen from top to bottom.

Glaciers by Uhuru Peak

As expected, we only remained on Uhuru for a few minutes, just enough time to take a few pictures for posterity. The descent back to the rim of the crater was the most rewarding part of the trip. As we crossed multiple groups of trekkers who looked more and more exhausted as time went on, the view was nothing short of spectacular. The huge glaciers reminded me of the Perito Moreno in Patagonia, but the fact that these were at almost 6,000m made them completely surreal and timeless.

Sliding down the mountain to Kibo

The descent back to Kibo base was by contrast extremely tough both mentally and physically on the knees and thighs. The quickest descent route is straight down throught the scree, where one literally skids down legs bent, dodging rocks and eating dust. The closest comparison I can think of physically is skiing down a boulder filled slope for 5kms where one's centre of gravity has to be super low, one's legs constantly bent and one's attention 100% focused on the slope below. My legs were so weak by this point that they almost jarred / locked a number of times, with camp only slowly appearing closer in the valley below.

Thankfully I had a mini cause for celebration as our Chief Guide, Happyson, managed to defrost my drinking tube which provided a desperately needed access to water. However, soon after arriving at camp, absolutely exhausted, I felt the downside of rapid fluid ingestion with no food to help with absorption. Within minutes of laying down in my tent, I developed an acute headache and was sick repeatedly for the next hour, intermittently being ill and falling back to sleep exhausted. Very conscious of the fact that we still had to treak down to our next camp for the night, I forced myself to snap out of my grodgy state and joined the others for a bland piece of bread and some pasta. And whilst this was supposed to have been a celebratory meal, I can safely say that it didn't look like one. We were all undoubtedly super pleased to have made it to the top, but the fatigue and aches and pains had really taken their toll!

Our subsequent walk down along the popular Marangu route gave us a real taster of the difference of the popular "Coca-Cola" route where we crossed multiple fresh faced and perfectly teether Americans, whose anxious / inquiring looks were only matched with our satisfaction with having already completed the trek!

Kilimanjaro Trek (Rongai Route) - Day 4: Heading to Kibo Base Camp

Date: 4 July 2010
Camp altitude: 4,700m
Altitude gained: 400m
Trek length: 9km

American Independence Day today and we couldn't feel much further from civilisation if we tried... actually we could, another 1,000m until we reach Uhuru Peak, the top of Kilimanjaro and the highest point in Africa! With any luck, we'll be tucking into a celebratory lunch within the next 24 hours.

It's 12.30pm and we've just done 4 hours of trekking to reach Kibo Hut at 4,700m. Throughout the morning we were facing the mountain whilst trekking: what was a small peck in the distance a few days ago has gradually increased in size and it's great to have finally reached base camp, although the steepness of the ascent awaiting us tonight is hardly making us all jump for joy.

For the first two hours, I was only wearing a thermal long-sleeved top and a wind-stopper and despite being bitterly cold I couldn't face stopping in the freezing wind to add another layer. Only once we reached a handful of isolated rocks was I able to slouch down to shield myself from the wind and add a fleece!

We also crossed the wreckage of a plane that crashed and killed all four passengers two years ago, which was just a few kilometres before reaching base camp, and definitely put things in perspective. I suppose no one has the energy to remove the wreckage or perhaps it's just left there as a reminder that nature really is king in this part of the world!

The feeling of vulnerability was accentuated by the altitude as well. My heart was pounding out of my chest in the final hour especially and every inhalation felt like a struggle. I now have a splitting headache and I'm hoping that food, rest and plenty of water will help me get back on my feet by this evening. The plan is to sleep this afternoon as we're waking up at 11.30pm to start our final ascent and hopefully reach the summit by sunrise.

It's 6.30pm now and 4.5hrs until our wake-up call for the summit climb and I write these words with the last bit of natural light seeping through the tent. I'm already wearing my thermals for the climb and the warmest pair of socks which I've been saving for tonight. The splitting headache that I had earlier has almost disappeared - the joy of popping a few paracetamols, drinking water and having a power nap. Let's hope that another 4 hours' sleep will do the trick and I'll feel as good as new by the time we start the climb.

It's difficult to explain what awaits us but from Base Camp, the incline looks super steep. The summit itself doesn't look that far as such but it's a vertical 1,000m climb which will take us 6 hours at the very least. I really hope we all make it, and ideally together. We'll be going up with our chief guide and the two assistant guides, Jonas and Julius, so that there is support if one (or more!) of us gets ill and needs to stop or descend quickly.

Without wanting to dramatise things too much, if something does happen to me, I love you all dearly! I'm pretty confident that I'll read these words feeling slightly ridiculous in 18 hours' time, having just reached the tallest peak in Africa but in the meantime, there's still a mountain to climb, so to speak!

Kilimanjaro Trek (Rongai Route) - Day 3: World Cup Fever @ 4,300m

Date: 3 July 2010
Camp altitude: 4,300m
Altitude gained: 600m
Trek length: 4km

It's just past midday and we've already set up camp for the day. Well I say we've set up camp but in reality, as every other day, the porters have marched ahead and set up our tents for us that they're all up by the time we make it in. And they're now preparing a warm lunch so that we can refuel ahead of our acclimatisation walk this afternoon. If that's not luxury then what is?!

We're now at about 4,300m and whilst there is still a fair way to go before we reach the summit, we already feel that we're close to the top of the world. The cloud line is well below us and the view is staggering. Once again, the difference in temperature has been quite incredible today - within a few minutes, the weather can suddenly turn and scorching 25C heat can turn into 5C cold with wind chill forcing us to whip out fleeces and windstoppers.

It's amazing how easily one adjusts to the trekking lifestyle: up at 6.30am, a quick "washi-washi" as the posters call our morning clean (where we use and abuse a small bucket of warm water and baby wipes to freshen up), followed by breakfast (a water-based porridge, which is so foul that we have affectionately called it 'summit medicine'), a three-hour trek, lunch, more trekking in the afternoon, followed by tea, dinner and sleep by 8.30pm!

Despite the altitude, when we arrived at camp this afternoon an ultra-keen group of Czech trekkers were organising a mini football world-cup. I managed to squeeze in a quick kick-about with a few of the porters and gladly avoided the actual tournament because within 5 minutes I was so out of breath that I had to lie down for a 10 minute breather! I have no idea how the teams managed it... in fact some didn't. It was particularly entertaining to see a Mexican team's egos crash and fall as they all started panting within a few minutes and had to get the porters to come in as subs!

Ghana was playing against Uruguay last night in the actual World Cup and the porters were avidly following the game over the radio: proof that there is some truth in the cheezy images we've all seen of remote villagers in the middle of Africa huddling around a transistor radio! Whilst we would have liked an African nation to go further in the tournament, some smart soul in another group has been carrying a Vuvuzela up the mountain and we were told that he would make full use of it if Ghana won, so it was quite a relief that they were knocked out and we could have a decent night's sleep!

Kilimanjaro Trek (Rongai Route) - Day 2: No pain, no gain

Date: 2 July 2010
Camp altitude: 3,700m
Altitude gained: 1,000m

Trek length: 12km

I'm lying down inside my sleeping bag with thermals, a fresh pair of trekking socks, and my North Face down jacket, and I can positively say that the cold has hit us. We're at 3,700m and whilst it's only 8.30pm, we've all set off to bed (a.k.a our tents) as it was absolutely freezing in the mess tent and it's getting cooler by the minute.

We trekked from 8am to 4pm with a 1.5hr break for lunch so it's been a pretty intense day. The final section gave us a sense of what the coming days would look like - a strange landscape with charred vegetation (due to a fire which ravaged the area a few years ago), and the mist / clouds rolling up and down the mountain giving only an occasional glimpse of sunshine.

We entertained ourselves today with a number of games, including celebrity name games, and categories, where we took turns to name items from standard to purely obscure categories... We're all quite anxious about the days to come as the cold and fatigue are properly affecting our energy levels. No injuries or illnesses to report so far so we hope we can all reach the summit together!

Over and out, my fingers are too cold to write any more tonight!

Kilimanjaro Trek (Rongai Route) - Day 1: Easy Peasy

Date: 1 July 2010

Camp altitude: 2,600m

Altitude gained: 640m

Trek length: 7km

Just short of 8pm and I'm already tucked in bed - or rather in the four season sleeping bag which I've rented from Exodus (the tour operating company I'm using) - and I'm absolutely desperate for a good night's sleep.

The first day's walk was anything but strenuous, in fact it was deceptively easy: an hour walk through plantations followed by a break for a lunch in the forest, then a two-hour walk through heathland up to the campsite. Even though we were at a relatively low altitude today, the difference in air quality was definitely noticeable as I felt short of breath and generally much more exhausted than I had expected. Upon arriving at camp. we walked an additional 40 mins up tomorrow's path to acclimatise, before returning to the lower altitude of camp to sleep for the night.

There are five of us in the trekking group itself: Ryan and Heather, a Scottish couple who have spent 2 months travelling around Southern Africa; Mikael, a Danish sales manager who lives in Manchester; Tom, a biology student at Durham; and yours truly. The support team however is massive with a total of 21 individuals: 3 guides, 1 cook, 4 helping porters and 14 ordinary porters. Whilst we only carry our day packs of c. 5kg, the porters storm past us carrying c. 15-20kg of kit, including our belongings, the sleeping bags, mats, sleeping tents, mess tent, kitchen utensils, etc.

The camp itself is very basic, in fact there is no camp as such, it's just an open area where the porters have pitched our tents. The only reason why it may be called a camp is because there is a table where we have to register our names, and a toilet, which is basically a hole carved out of a wooden platform above a pit. We've already counted our blessings that Exodus provide a 'private' toilet which is basically a seat above a bucket in a separate tent-like enclosure, which is marginally better than the hole in the ground...

After tucking into an afternoon tea and a first round of cards, we ate dinner, consisting of courgette soup, spicy fish and potatoes, and a fruit salad: not quite gourmet but excellent considering the conditions.

The highlight of the day came when our Chief Guide, Happy Son, came to introduce himself after dinner (after clearly having had a few drinks), as we looked on incredulously. He found it impossible to remember anyone's names, especially struggling with Heather and Ryan. Word associations like 'Weather' for Heather and 'Bryan' Adams for Ryan didn't seem to help. Faced with the possibility that our Chief Guide was actually a drunkard, we managed not to make any sarcastic comments when Happy Son told us that his brother, called "Good Luck", had sadly died a few years earlier... I'm also not convinced he'll remember our names by the morning which is slightly worrying in light of the fact that we're practically putting our lives in his hands for the next few days...

A fast and furious departure from London

As ever, I never quite realise I'm leaving somewhere until I'm sitting on the flight itself. And today is no exception. The difference is that this time, I'm sitting on a Virgin Atlantic flight, and in Upper Class. Not that I would ever spend four grand myself on a business ticket when I'm going on holiday - nor am I communicating any unhealthy infatuation with the Virgin brand. It's just that I'm quite pleased with myself because with a last minute calculation, I decided not to go for a cheaper and quicker option with Kenya Airways as I realised that there was a high probability of getting upgraded on this particular flight (because it's a Monday and there would be few business travellers to Nairobi flying out then, and because buying a premium economy ticket would get me silver status), and now it has all happened.

So a year spent working in Virgin's aviation team, and in particular a few painful weeks spent analysing competitors' Frequent Flyer Programs on 20-odd routes has come in handy after all.

:-)

And not that I'm excited about the champagne, nice wine, or food (as I can't actually have any of it right now). It's just that I'm in dire need of sleep and ecstatic at the prospect of actually resting before this Kili trek, because my last weekend in London upped my levels of stress to new levels, and gave me a taster of how one's body can react when reaching a state of exhaustion. It's also, once again, made me realise how lucky I am to have such close friends and family.

This week was punctuated with more goodbyes, first with the Bank of America crew @ the quaint Dean Street Townhouse restaurant, then with the Virgin Management lot, the Virgin Money team @ Brown's Hotel Bar, the Sevenoaks crew (with 'Gertrude' visibly wanting to pop out of Charlotte's belly and join the party), other buddies (you know who you are!) and finally my lovely bro and sis.

The last minute scramble to the finish also involved yellow fever and typhoid jabs, and another run to a travel / adventure shop to purchase the last few items. This was greatly helped with my thoughtful goodbye gifts from the V. Management crew which included trekking socks, a first aid kit, moskito repellent, energy bars, etc.

Not that stressful I hear you say. And it wouldn't have been if I didn't still have to handover both my roles at work, and empty the contents of two offices and pack my flat, all in the space of four days. And Oh My Lord do I have a tendency to accumulate the most amazing amount of junk. The most notable items unearthed (at home I may add), included a 1990s floppy disk (which I have kept for posterity - old habits die hard), a tape (who still owns tapes these days seriously?!) and a pirate's eye patch (legacy of last year's NY Halloween costume).

As well as finding these old treasures, I've also experienced a few "firsts" this week:

- First feet cooling experience in the fountain of Trafalgar Square with Sev

- First drink @ nearby legendary Gordon's Wine Bar

- First visit to delightful Brent to drop off the contents of my flat in storage

- First passing out in a London street (or any street for that matter)

And these last two 'firsts' are worth elaborating on. The first as my sister Caroline deserves a massive big-up for helping me pack all my stuff, most notably casting her fashion-conscious eye on my often distinctly unfashionable clothes. Result: three large bags dropped off at the local charity shop. Good riddance and Lord help anyone setting foot in the Melcombe street charity shop looking for the next fashion trends. Merci Caro, not sure how I could have done it without you!

The second because I would never have expected my last night in London to involve me being ill in the street (twice) and losing consciousness whilst sitting on a bench trying to gather my senses and some energy. And all without a drop of alcohol involved.

I just had the worst reaction to food poisoning I've ever had. Perhaps because I ate of piece of meat at a BBQ that wasn't fully cooked. Possibly because I had a very bad reaction to Diamox (a medicine which is supposed to help limit the onset of altitude sickness - but can 'occasionally' have nasty side-effets. Ha!). Perhaps because I've been burning the candle at both ends as Chris P so diplomatically put it when I called him asking for his expert advice the next morning (thanks Chris!)...

To cut a long story short I spent a horrific night and not sure I would have made my flight were it not for Olivier who virtually carried me home after witnessing me passing out and being ill (bottles of rose will be duly delivered in August - merci encore), and my flatmate Jo-Jo and sis who kindly played vigil by my side as I shook and shivered my way to sleep.

Aside from this stress and drama, this week has made me realise - with some nostalgia - what I love about London:

- The fact that you can discover somewhere new anytime you choose

- The fact that any glimmer of sunshine leads to a mass migration to the parks and a mass consumption of Pimm's

- The fact that this country really does go World Cup crazy

- The fact that I have such close friends and family who live here

Who knows what next week will bring but one thing's for sure: this past one was fast and furious, and whilst I did manage to get everything done in two weeks, my body and mind took a proper beating in the process and I'll make sure I give myself more time next time!

More forward planning would also have given me time to acknowledge all the kind emails I received after sending out my leaving emails. I'll try and do so properly in due course, but in the meantime, thank you all for your kind words and keep in touch with your news!

The next update will involve a detailed update on the trek so keep your eyes peeled! :-)

PS: Feel free to subscribe to this newsletter or to shoot me an email if you want me to add you to the distribution list! x

One week to go...

It feels like an eternity since my first post last week because it's just been a crazily intense 7 days...

After the mild panic attack last weekend of realising just how much I needed to get done before leaving London, I booked a return flight to Nairobi and my Kilimanjaro trek on Monday. So now it's official, I'm flying out on 28 June and starting the climb on 30 June - yikes!

So aside from trying to wrap things up at work, I spent most of my free time trying to sort out all the logistics for my departure: insurance now sorted (though not without being told by French insurers that a scanned signature of the contract wouldn't be sufficient and having to queue at the Post Office for 45 mins to arrange for a recorded delivery of the original... what decade / century do we live in seriously?), trekking boots purchased, rental sleeping bag, winter jacket, and trekking poles ready for pick-up in Tanzania.

Still a few 'minor' details to sort out by next Monday: yellow fever jab which I will need to present on arrival in Kenya / Tanzania (and needs to have been done 2 weeks prior to arrival - I look forward to that conversation with airport officials), Kenyan and Tanzanian visas (both consulates obviously only open from 10am to 12pm weekdays), another outdoor equipment store visit to get all the smaller items I didn't get round to purchasing this weekend (spare batteries for my head torch, a first aid kit, mucho wetwipes - I won't get into the details but obviously no showers on Kili, walking socks, rehydration tablets, Camelback hydration system, the list goes on...).

The other insignificant issue is that I have not yet finalised the removal of my belongings, partly because our driveway in Aix (aptly called "Chemin de L'Echelle" as it as steep as a ladder), has so many potholes due to recent floods in Southern France, that even if the van makes it to Aix-en-Provence, I may have to hire someone locally to do delivery for the final 80m. Oh and I'll be in Tanzania with no phone when the delivery is scheduled to be made. Lurvely.

And then there's been the multiple parties this week. Firstly my sending-off dinner and party from Virgin organised by the lovely Mills - THANK YOU!!! - which started in a pretty civilised fashion but descended into mayhem post-dinner. Let's just say it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that mixing wine, champagne, sambuca and tequila wasn't going to lead to pretty scenes the following day. Not on my count may I add (my liver seems well trained after all) - stellar performance with a reasonably sober arrival into the office at 9.30am.

With a day's respite, Thursday was the annual WTA pre-Wimbledon party @ the Roof Gardens. We did the usual tennis player sock-line spotting contest, but as I watched the dismal performance of France in the World Cup and therefore missed the start of the party, I also missed most of the exciting VIPs. No repeat of my chat with Venus and Serena over the buffet a couple of years ago... Perhaps most exciting was spotting rugby players Danny Cipriani and Gavin Henson, which doesn't quite match bumping into Jonny Wilkinson a few months ago but I guess beggars can't be choosers.

The weekend highlight was Saturday night with the leaving drinks @ Aqua and subsequent party @ Movida. I was really touched by everyone who came so thank you! Such a civilised bunch, especially in contrast to the Movida crowd. I think I have never seen quite so many trashy looking women in one place as that place on Saturday, but thankfully there were enough of us to have a blast independently.

So to cut a long story short, a note to self: don't try and manage work handover notes, leaving parties, a three and a half week holiday, and the packing and removal of all your belongings in two weeks. It might be possible (tbc next week!) but it certainly ain't stress-free! Only just a bit of spare time for the nostalgia to start kicking in. More on that next week :-)

Escaping London

After five and a bit crazy years in the Big Smoke, it's time to hit the road for a new adventure! I'm setting off to do an MBA at INSEAD, based in Singapore first, then in the lovely French town of Fontainebleau.

I won't bore you with the rationale of why I've chosen to do an MBA, why INSEAD, or how painful the application process was - suffice it to say that I was in need of a change of scene and the prospect of spending a madly intense 10 months travelling, studying and meeting new people was quite appealing, and I'm now super excited about it all happening!

So in exactly 2 months time, I'll be setting off to Singapore. In the meantime however, I'm 2 weeks away from finishing work and leaving London and I'm only just realising what an absolute logistical nightmare it is! I didn't quite think all I would need to do would be to book a removal van and a flight somewhere exotic, but I didn't think it would be quite so painstaking either. Well it probably doesn't help that I'm planning to spend 3 weeks in Kenya / Tanzania (climbing Kili and sunning myself in Zanzibar), then heading to a wedding in Paris, then shooting over to Aix, Carcassonne and Beziers for a few weeks before flying off to Singapore in mid-August. And I haven't booked a single flight, or train journey... nada, zilch, niet, que dalle quoi.

If you're anything like me, when you think about leaving a city where you've spent a good chunk of your life, you think about the friends you're going to miss, the multiple leaving lunches / dinners / drinks / parties you have to organise, and the adventures awaiting you on the other side. But what happens next is that one minute you're sunning yourself in Hampstead Heath. The next minute you realise you have two weeks to get your ducks in a row and get the hell out of town!

You just don't think about the multiple address changes you need to make, setting up a new bank account and credit card, getting travel and insurance health insurance, sorting out the removal company (and the insurance for the removal so that you get compensation if your belongings end up at the bottom of the Channel), the driving licence which is about to expire and takes 4 weeks to renew, the trains, flights, visas and jabs which will make this escapade possible, the dress for the wedding which you need to get to Paris somehow...

Bref, so many things to do, so little time. I can sense a theme starting already.

Bring this adventure on.