Mandeville Place, London

I arrived in London from Kraków, with a stop in Warsaw. The landing of the aeroplane to the capital of England featured a rather fidgety breakthrough through a thick blanket of clouds, to which I woke up from one of the many swift embraces of Morpheus I enjoyed on that aerial journey, having slept rather poorly in the recent days. In the moments when I was a little more conscious, I looked at the pages of “The Cloud of Unknowing”. I refrain from using the verb “to read”, for it would certainly be much to the horror of the watchful eyes of the Author up in heavens, who so clearly gainsaid such nonchalant and frivolous circumstances of indulging oneself in their work. The book is a Christmas gift from someone very dear to me, today's parting with whom was particularly sorrowful, and will, aside from providing spiritual nourishment to my wandering soul, make me think about them every time I open the book.

The grand voyage begins, and there is no turning back. If the waters and railways be kind to me, I shall be back in Kraków in around ninety days, just in time for the later part of Lent and, crucially, for Easter. Let us see where, what places and what adventures, Providence takes me during these three months. I fooled myself into thinking that I have it all planned out rather scrupulously, but I eagerly await to see how soon and in what spectacular way my silly self-confidence will be invalidated by the unpredictable or unpredicted.

Avanti!

I also decided that my tour should last ten years, so as to give me plenty of time to study the countries and the people. Why exactly ten years? Because whenever I want to do a thing I must have a fixed plan to work by. Besides, I know I shall be so terribly homesick that I am afraid I might pack up my things and come home after a year or perhaps less; but I always keep a promise, even to myself; therefore, if I promise to stay ten years, I shall stay. I have taken the first step already and written to the P. and O. Company in London to inquire about the movements of the Australian steamers. I despatched one of the servants to the next letter-box for fear I might repent after more careful reflection. Just now I am full of hope and courage.
Lina Bögli, “Forward. Letters Written on a Trip Around the World”