Far from the wild...

This is a sort of train of conciousness from my friend Sarah who works with me... She went to see 'Into the Wild' and I think she may have enjoyed it... Over to you Sarah!

I watched Sean Penn's Into the Wild, got home, dug out my rucksack (Bernie) and thought about whether a mozzie net would come in handy in Alaska. I stood there for about ten minutes; net in one hand, sleeping bag in the other, trying to figure out how much warm clothing I'd be able to fit if I took my second-hand Eurohike two-man tent with me. I went online and started googling 'cheap flights Fairbanks' whilst eating a bowl of Shreddies (perhaps my last for a long time if I could find a flight that left the next day).

I knew I should really be brushing my teeth and getting a good night's sleep so I could crawl out of bed the next morning for work (I hate getting up early) but I figured if Chris Mccandless aka Alexander Supertramp could give up everything and just take off - why couldn't I? This 23-year-old nomadic creature trekked his way around the States with little more than the clothes on his back for nearly three years. No real work, no responsibilities, no one to answer to. I missed that. I missed that year and a half between the lazy life of a student and the full-time regularity of ninetofive-living when I took off with my sister into the unknown. Into the wild. Well, perhaps not the wild but the busy streets of New Delhi and beyond.

I checked my diary and figured with the two weeks' holiday I have left to take I could do a whirlwind tour of all the open spaces and inches of snow the Last Frontier has to offer. Find some firewood, build my own hot-water shower, kill a moose. How hard could it be? I'd come back all refreshed from my dangerous adventure with a healthy tan, a smaller waist and a beard, plus, it's not like I'd have many expenses whilst I'm away - a machete, a gun and a few cans of lighter fuel ought to do the trick. Who said roughing it was hard work? Sounds like a dream to me. Now alI I need to do is find some kind of abandoned vehicle to sleep in...

I switched on an episode of the West Wing whilst I tried to figure out how much it would cost to hire a centrally-heated campervan with off-road capabilities for two weeks. In between marvelling at the beauty that is Bradley Whitford and Richard Schiff's furrowed brow, I got thinking about a rainy weekend I spent in Nha Trang on Vietnam's stunning coastline. There's something so brilliant and comforting about being half way round the world and renting a DVD player to watch episodes of your favourite shows. You probably couldn't do that in the wilds of Alaska, and I bet they don't have Marmite. I found Marmite at the Lazy Gecko cafe by Boeung Kak Lake in Phnom Penh and I think partly because it was so far from home, and partly because I'd been eating A LOT of curries - it had never tasted so good.

I found the cheapest deal for my flight to Fairbanks. £1,310 with Air France, leaving the next day. Only the flight left at 6.30 in the morning, and I hate getting up early. So I put my rucksack away and settled down to watch President Bartlett and the boys do their thing with a packet of peanut butter M&Ms and thought of it no more for the rest of the night.

I'm worried that somewhere between receiving a monthly paycheck, shopping regularly at Sainsburys and falling in love with a number of fictional TV characters, I've lost my sense of adventure.

Anyone for two weeks at Butlins?