How many pairs of knickers?

"Is it that time already?". "Gosh, that went quickly!". "Wow, you must be excited". These are amongst the phrases I'm hearing on repeat at the moment. And whilst they're popping up in my own mind too, they're mostly dampened by the louder, more pressing question: how many pairs of knickers do I pack ??

9 months ago I landed back on British soils, bracing myself for another stint in the nest. Everyone was slightly apprehensive. Would it be a repeat of The Teen Years (best not discussed)? Would I survive the Sunday ritual of The Archers omnibuses and the Grand Prix? Or worse still - would I love it so much I set up a subscription to Young Farmers Association and joined the local boules club? We settled upon a happy medium - parents funding cereal and peanut butter supplies, me bonding with the sheep and fresh air once more. There were even a few concerned looks exchanged when I mused about converting part of the house into an annex. We know it was time for me to go.

And so the planning began. "I'm heading to the states for a bit", I nonchalantly told everyone, as though it were as simple as a weekend trip to Brittany. As the months crept by, Spring sprung, and I realised I'd been spending all my 'research time' Googling the likes of 'animal cafés New York' and planning entirely hypothetical 3 course meals as I scrolled through dozens of menus at places I'll most likely never find. Admitting my priorities were probably a little off, I started looking at the Hard Core logisitcs. Where would I start? Finish? We started pooling the contacts: "Remember that person you once met on a train whose sister was a pilates teacher in California in the 80s? Could you get their number, please?" I've yet to start my literal journey (the emotional one started when I was 7 and knew there and then it was my life's mission to visit Mrs Doubtfire's house), but I've already been so touched by the generosity and offers of people with seriously tenuous links. 

So here we go. Next Friday I head to Boston to start my trip. I've travelled alone before, and find one of the most enjoyable parts of it is indulging in cafes, restaurants and bars at my leisure. So whilst hearing "table for one, madame?" turns some people cold, it is one of the things I most look forward to hearing as I make my way across those 50 states (more like 12, but let's keep it dramatic). Now really - how many pairs of knickers??