It took three strapping fellows from nine in the morning till four in the afternoon last Saturday to pack up my stuff and to load it into a truck. My place in Reading is now empty. All that is left will fit into a small knapsack that I can take on board of a plane. Twelve days to go, I am relishing the ringing emptiness. The only thing that mars my bliss is the knowledge that all those boxes are now hurtling toward Motovun.