Three

Three is not a number you can sniff at.

A triangle is the strongest shape in the world; there are three primary colours; earth is the third planet in the solar system. Atoms consist of three parts. In almost every main religion the number three is dominant: the Christian Holy Trinity, the Hindu Trimarti, the three Jewels of Buddhism, the three Pure Ones of Taoism. The devil`s mark is a multiple of three. There are three states of time: the past, the present, and the future. Shakespeare has three witches; Dante`s Divine Comedy has three parts of thirty three cantos; there were three rings in The Lord of the Rings. There are three Blind Mice, three Musketeers, three Little Pigs, and three Bears. When fairies and genies grant wishes, they do it in threes. And BoysIIMen had – and possibly still has - three members.

Three, therefore, seems like a good number to base an adventure on.

Since my panic attack in Le Louvre – if anything is going to remind you of your own insignificance, it`s being surrounded by Michelangelo and Raphael and Da Vinci (and other Ninja Turtles) – I`ve been trying to decide what I want. Not what other people want for me, or what I want to keep me close to other people or to make them proud of me, but what I want to do with my life: or, at the very least, a part of it. What will make me happy, without needing anybody else to be there for it.

And I`ve decided. I decided a while ago, and have been working on the details: booking and paying for parts of it. And I did all this, sadly, before I read Eat, Pray, Love, in which Liz Gilbert does almost exactly the same thing. Which at least confirmed what I suspected anyway: that when a poor little middle class girl gets dumped and feels a bit lost in life, sodding off round the world is probably the way to make her feel better and simultaneously make everybody quite rightfully hate her for being so gloriously spoilt and self-indulgent.

Copycat accusations conceded - because I have every intention of being just as spoilt and self-indulgent as I can while I still can - my plan starts in September next year, when I leave Japan. It will last roughly 9 months, and it will be about the number three. I will visit the three remaining countries I`ve always wanted to go to most, divided into equal(ish) sections. Except that they will be my three countries, for my reasons. To celebrate being gloriously single, gloriously alone, and gloriously without any responsibility at all. Apart from the responsibility of making myself a better, nicer person.

The first country I visit will be Thailand. After two years in formal, restrictive Japan, I want to relax and drink beer and swim and enjoy something a little less organized, and a little more dishevelled. I want to dance on a beach at four am as the sun comes up wearing beads in my hair. I want to meet people and never find out their names. I want to fall asleep in a hut next to a turquoise ocean with the sun on my face. I want to dive with the fish and turtles, under the water I love so much. I want to explore islands ringed with white sand. I want - essentially - a very, very long holiday.

I am then going to Nepal, to teach English in a Buddhist monastery, and in my spare weeks I will trek, paraglide from a base near Everest, white water raft and explore the Himalayas on pony back, or any kind of back I can find (walking where absolutely necessary). I will learn as much as I can from the Tibetan monks and Buddhism and the peace and beauty of the mountains. I will experience as much as I can possibly experience. And – hopefully – give back a little something as well. This is where I will be when I turn 30. Because it seems like a good place to turn 30 in.

My third section will be spent in South India, where I am volunteering in an orphanage in the middle of a large slum for three months: helping clean, feed, de-lice and entertain the children by trying to sing for them and play football. Simply because I want to do something in my life that is not entirely about me. Which, rather neatly, will make me feel nice and fluffy, so it will obviously still be about me. But in the best way I can think of.

Mum - who hyperventilated 18 months ago when I told her I was moving to the most developed country in the world - had just one thing to say to my new, very undeveloped nation based plans. And that was: "Well, there goes another year of me not sleeping then."

It might not be the right path for everyone, but it`s the right path for me. I don`t want to find `The One` yet; I don`t want a `Proper Career`; I don`t want a house and a mortgage and a new sofa and a dog and weekend trips to Ikea. I don`t want a local pub, and I don`t want the same group of friends, every weekend. I don`t want love, and I don`t want marriage, and I don`t want babies: not yet, not now. I don`t want a culture I know like the back of my hand, and a life I understand without trying. I want adventure and excitement and experience: I want to wake up in the morning, knowing I`ll see something I`ve never seen before. I want to gulp it all in: new sights and sounds and people and smells and conversations and ideas that I`m so damn hungry for, all the time. I want to swallow it all. I want to enjoy the rest of the part of my life that`s mine -nobody else`s - and I want to cram as much of the world into me as I can. So that I`m full to burst with it, and I`m ready to share it with others.

There aren`t many fairies or genies around these days, and waiting for them to arrive seems to take an awful long time. But - in the process of hurting and healing - I`ve realised something. I have my own magic lamps: as many of them as I want. I am free to go anywhere I want, and lead any life that suits me. Whenever I want. I can make those wishes, and I can grant them myself. And keep making them, and keep granting them, for as long as I want to.

And Thailand, Nepal and India? They`re just the first multiple of three.

And they`re just the beginning.