The year has turned. Time to pack those bags again.

The decorations are in hiding for another year. We are launched into January, a little older, no wiser, but hopefully with dreams intact after all the festive excess.

It's not an easy time of year. Winter stretches in front of us - the weather can delight or depress us, but always makes life hard work. All that putting in and taking off of clothes. The lost gloves. The heavy coats that get even heavier when they are wet. Soggy feet.

Hang on a minute - what am I complaining about? I'm off to Bangkok on Wednesday.

I'm not actually complaining - I'm trying to be empathetic. To show that I do understand that life isn't all log fires and crumpets while I'm away. That you are all keeping the show on the road while I'm ... swanning around the Far East.

You are unconvinced by my empathy? All I can say, in my defence, is assure you that I've done my share of British winters and know I'm just rubbish at them. I hate the cold, the dark, the wet, the lack of colour.

And I'm privileged - I know I am - to be able to turn my back on the seasonal horribleness and head for the sun.

Why the Far East again? Because I love it. Cuba was hard work (as some of you know) so I want to go somewhere I feel at home, where I know how to get about and look after myself, and maybe to look up a few of the people I met on my long trip.

Will I write about it - I know I say, every year, that I won't make promises. And then I come home and write. This year feels a bit different, because I know more or less what to expect and it doesn't include adventures like cyclones and tigers, nor the trauma of a terrifying history. This is a journey just for me, going somewhere I love.

Having said that, I shall carry on blogging, and there will be plenty of photos when I get back. And if I do stumble into an adventure or two (which is definitely not in the plan) I might revise my ideas about writing another book.

(Forgive me for rushing off, I have packing to do. And I hope you all have excitements of one shape or another to cheer these dark days.)

You don't expect writing today, do you?

Tomorrow I'm going to Venice - I hope you don't expect me to write sense today.

Between now and tomorrow morning I must sort the laundry, buy some milk, cut the grass, clean the cooker, water the plants, sew on a button, write a letter, buy a birthday card, order two toy wheelbarrows, order a supermarket shop, talk intelligently at a literature festival as if I had nothing else on my mind,

pause, breathe, remind myself that this will be worth it,

(nearly forgot lunch),

clean out the fridge, change the sheets on the bed, phone the bank (god help me), charge the phone, charge the camera, charge the kindle, return a book I borrowed to the woman next door, water the plants,

pack

sleep

For tomorrow I'm going to Venice!

Packing.

So - just one week to go, and then I'm off again. A few people have asked what I take with me - so this is for them.

Remember - this lot is not going in a wheely case, but in a rucksack that I have to carry. And I'm no muscle man. So I have to travel light.

Essentials:

• I must take is a comprehensive the first aid kit, plus medications (as those of you who've read the book might guess, I need to pop a pill regularly). Immodium and rehydration sachets - you know why. Antibiotics - I know these are often easily available, but if you have them with you, then you can be sure what you are taking. And being ill up a mountain is no fun. I know, it's a pain, lugging plasters and antiseptic wipes everywhere. But it's not fun, stuck up a mountain with a blood running down your leg and only and old tissue to mop it up with.
• Things I need to keep clean. Forget fancy shower gels and bubble baths. You need soap - most places provide it, but if there's any chance you'll be somewhere obscure it's worth having a small soap with you. Plus whatever you need to keep your teeth and hair clean. Travel wash? possibly - though I have found walking on my washing in the shower when I wash my hair is generally effective.
• Miscellaneous bits - like water purifiers; universal plug; swiss army knife. And a small fleece blanket, that is probably designed for a dog bed; it's very light to carry and has kept me warm on many a chilly night. Sarong - to cover sheets when you aren't too sure ...
• Clothes. My idea of minimum is probably not the same as yours. Almost everyone I met when I was travelling left home with too much and left some in hotel rooms. So even though I can tell you that three pairs of jeans and three skirts is quite unnecessary some people will still need to learn the hard way. So be it - and those who find your leavings probably need them much more than you do. Clothes take up less than half of the space in my rucksack.
• Mobile phone.
• Insurance, passport, tickets, money - all that stuff. And again I'll say insurance - I know it's boring, and expensive, and you hope you'll never need it. But if you do, then you'll know why it's worth every penny.

Then there are extras, if I have room.

• For the long trip, I took a short-wave radio, to listen to the World Service. Reception was often crackly, but I wanted the connection with home.
• For this trip, I'll take a small laptop. It is a luxury - I can live without it and use internet cafes. But it will be useful if I'm anywhere it's unsafe for a woman to go out in the evenings. (I'm not expecting that in Nepal these days.)
• Books - I have one book of Nepali short stories (not available as an ebook) and my loaded Kindle. Plus a Lonely Planet (actually that is probably essential).
• Camera, notebooks and pens (these are probably essential too!)

And that is all. Does it look a lot? Probably, listed like that. But once you unpick it, there's not much here. And this is all I need. And one of the biggest lessons of the long trip was just how little clobber I really need.

What do you think I've left out?