Things I Didn't Expect To Be Googling

One of the unexpected side effects of preparing for Zambia is that my search history has become increasingly difficult to explain.

Six months ago, Google had formed a fairly accurate picture of me. It understood that I was a fairly ordinary middle-aged democracy nerd with an interest in governance, local government, law, obscure legislation, charity trusteeship and, for reasons known only to me, photographs of unusually handsome Highland cows.

It knew who I was.

These days, I suspect it's becoming increasingly concerned that I am preparing either to disappear into the wilderness indefinitely or survive the collapse of civilisation. At the very least, it seems to have concluded that I'm about to spend several months living off-grid with only a head torch and a waterproof bag for company.

Recent searches include:

·       Can you take antihistamines with malaria tablets?

·       Can mosquitoes bite through trousers?

·       How many pairs of socks does a responsible adult own?

·       What exactly is a dry bag?

·       Difference between a torch and a head torch.

·       How much sun cream is too much sun cream?

·       How hot is Zambia in August?

·       Can you buy sun cream in an airport?

·       What is a gaiter?

·       Why do travel websites assume I already know what a gaiter is?

·       Can you accidentally overpack socks?

·       How many charging cables is too many charging cables?

·       Why do all travel accessories come in olive green?

The answer to the last question remains unclear.

At one point I spent nearly twenty minutes researching dry bags.

For those unfamiliar with the concept, a dry bag is simply a waterproof bag designed to keep things dry.

This sounds entirely reasonable now.

At the time, however, I was convinced there must be more to it. Surely nobody writes entire sections of packing lists about a bag whose primary feature is accurately described in the name.

Apparently they do, and apparently this is considered entirely normal.

I own one now.

I'm still not completely convinced I've understood it.

The head torch situation has been similarly educational.

Before this process began, I considered a torch to be a perfectly adequate solution to most torch-related problems.

I have since learned that there are circumstances in which a torch attached directly to your head is apparently preferable.

The sort of circumstances, I assume, that occur regularly to competent adults. Google now appears to believe I am one of those people.

The mosquito research has perhaps been the most revealing.

After several weeks of reading advice about malaria prevention, insect repellent and bite avoidance, I have developed the distinct impression that mosquitoes are less an insect and more a highly organised international criminal enterprise.

By the end of one evening I had become convinced that mosquitoes hold quarterly strategy meetings and maintain detailed files on prospective visitors.

Entire websites appear dedicated to helping travellers avoid being identified, targeted and consumed.

This is starting to feel personal.

Meanwhile, my search for the correct number of pairs of socks yielded no definitive answer whatsoever.

The internet, despite containing the combined knowledge of humanity, remains frustratingly vague on the subject.

Most of these searches have emerged from the reality that preparing for a trip like this isn't really one enormous task. It's hundreds of tiny decisions. Questions you never knew existed, and that nobody ever mentions until they're suddenly your responsibility.

·       How much insect repellent is enough?

·       What medication can be taken with what?

·       At what point does preparation become a personality trait?

·       At what point does Google stage an intervention?

The internet can answer many of these questions, but not all of them.

One search, however, produced no useful results whatsoever.

In a moment of honesty, I typed:

"How do you know if you've forgotten something important?"

Google was unable to help, which is unfortunate because I strongly suspect I have.

Still, the good news is that the trip is getting closer, the preparations are gradually coming together and I now know considerably more about dry bags than I ever expected to a few months ago.

The bad news is that I appear to have spent so much time researching travel equipment that online retailers have become convinced I am planning to climb a mountain.

I have absolutely no intention of climbing a mountain. Then again, six months ago I'd never heard of a dry bag either, so I've learnt not to rule anything out.