When I travel overseas I always have a plan.
Like most, I diligently save my pennies over the course of a year or two and when the time is right (usually when I can’t stand my job for another second) I grab a travel buddy, map out a plan of attack, book a flight and the rest is history.
I rely on tour guides, trip advisor and local advice to decide where to go and I’m perfectly happy to go anywhere really as long as it isn’t behind a desk.
I bleed my bank account dry right up until that return flight home (sometimes over-estimating the state of my funds.. sorry Dad) and trudge through Sydney arrivals with a sense of dread that it was back to the daily grind for another year or two.
This time however – I had no plan.
In fact there wasn’t even a…
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