Struck with a faint terror! I start work tomorrow and, despite repeated efforts, I don’t know which practice group I’m starting in.

My preference is for mergers and acquisitions. But, with the credit crunch and the end of the private equity boom, maybe they just wont need anybody.

Adding to my fear, is my recently acquired knowledge that things are not always as I perceive them, nor do my plans always turn out as expected.

Mid last year, I was in London visiting a friend of mine who is working there as an options trader.

Trading is no child’s game. All the trading happens in real time, which means that the slightest slip of the finger can lose you thousands. Luckily, my friend is very good at what he does.

Being a successful trader in London opens up an amazing world of opportunity. British traders earn a lot of money, in pounds, and because the market is only open from 10 ’till 4, they also have time to enjoy it.

London is the most happening metropolis in the world, rivalled perhaps only by New York. Magnificent buildings, fine food, the latest fashions, fast cars, beautiful women. Anything can happen in London. At least, that is, if you are a young wealthy options trader, or a young wealthy option trader’s friend.

But I digress…

I completed my law degree with an exchange semester in Hamburg and needed to catch a flight from London. Not being a wealthy options trader, I booked the cheapest, dirtiest Ryan Air flight from London (Stansted) to Hamburg (Luebeck).

Excited to be on my way, I contacted my flat mate to tell him that I would shortly be flying into Hamburg. He informed me that a taxi from the airport would only set me back around 20 euros. What a bargain, that’s only about 15 pounds.

Jumping in a taxi outside Hamburg (Luebeck) airport I told the man my address. "In Hamburg?" asked the driver. I was confused that he needed to clarify this point, "yes, of course, Hamburg". Hamburg is the second wealthiest city in the EU, after London, and as the taxi pulled away from the small rural semi neglected airport, I failed to connect the dots.

As the fair meter ticked by, I stared blissfully out of the window as we sped along a deserted German autobahn.

As the meter hit 40 euros and the autobahn streched out into the night, I was struck by a sinking feeling which slowly began to grow. I leaned forwards hopefully, "are we nearly there?" The driver looked pleased, and answered "yes, we are almost half way."

I felt violated, not to mention a little stupid. I had wanted to fly from London to Hamburg and had unwittingly flown from Stansted to Luebeck.

I hope I didn’t forget to pay attention to the size eight words in brackets next to my job description, M & A lawyer (general office lap dog and coffee boy).

So completely confused! I need to buy a new pair of black shoes and a couple of business shirts before I start work on Monday.

This sounds easy enough, so today I went shopping. I haven’t set foot in a department store for at least a year and I normally don’t dare go shopping without a female friend or another experienced guide.

Today, I was all alone...

I walked into the local department store which, for some reason, opens straight into the cosmetics section. Lawyers can be pretty vain and pretentious but, as far as I’m aware, male lawyers haven't starting wearing make up, not yet anyway.

I navigated my way through a jungle of electric appliances, women’s lingerie and designer pens. Finally, I stumbled upon the men’s shoe section.

At this point, I was so completely disorientated that I probably would have purchased the first pair of shoes the salesperson gave me. Luckily, the two staff members behind the counter were having an in-depth discussion about barcodes and paid me no attention. This gave me some time to regain my senses.

Knowing nothing about the current fashions, I had to rely on my own instincts and the recommendations of a 60-something saleswoman, who at some point had materialised from under a pile of shoe boxes.

Round toe or square? Leather sole or rubber? Modern style or conservative? Comfortable feel or impressive look? How much should I be willing to pay? These and other questions raced through my mind, as it dawned on me that I was completely out of my depth. I felt an irresistible urge to escape.

I was mentally exhausted but I slowly managed to make some progress and narrowed it down to a choice between two pairs of shoes. This was one of life’s big decisions ...

I put the shoes on hold for an hour to give me time to decide and went for a walk to collect my thoughts. I bought some lunch, sat down in the food court and called mum.

I’m a little bit scared. The whole shoe shopping fiasco has rocked my nerves. I start work on Monday and being a corporate lawyer is likely to be slightly more difficult than shopping for shoes.

Last night I went to the Grand Hotel to play trivia with a couple of friends I made back in my Economics days. The trivia night had a China/Olympics theme and our team name was “The ‘Long Jump’ Forward”. Pretty good, no?

There were prizes for the best team names, but apparently ours was a little too intellectual for the trivia host and the prize was awarded to “Dude where’s my Dalai Lama”. Totally robbed!

I realise that lawyers are supposed to be extremely knowledgeable and have impressive general knowledge, but I am atrociously bad at trivia. My contribution to the team for the night consisted of guessing names of Weird Al Yankovic songs. I hope my performance in trivia is not an omen for my soon to be nascent career as a lawyer.

Exciting news! It's only four days to go until I start my first full time job in a big city corporate law firm. I have spent the last week making the most of my freedom.

Last week I played poker with a couple of friends, there were six of us in all. We ordered in 6 large greasy pizzas, two rolls of garlic bread, a good amount of coke and a couple of hookers. I’m kidding about the hookers … but seriously!

I was a little scared because one of the other players there claimed to have played poker professionally at one of the big city casino, where they have a $500 minimum buy in. Not to worry, luckily I have studied Matt Damon’s performance in Rounders quite carefully; it’s all about grinding it out. After biding my time and using my very best poker face, I made a deceptive preflop raise with eight-nine suited and managed to knock out one of my friends.

I walked away at the end of the night with a tidy $50 win. All in a nights work!

A young boy with an armful of magazines stepped out into the traffic as we pulled up at the first set of traffic lights. He carried a bunch of the most popular Indian magazines; India Today, Sport Star and Bollywood News Daily.

There were a dozen rickshaws and cars sprawled at the traffic lights. Ignoring these, the boy made a direct line towards the white man sitting absent-mindedly in the back seat of a black and yellow Padmini taxi.

Seeing him approach, I tried to wind up the window, but the window winder was broken, leaving me permanently exposed.

Spreading his wares in front of me, the boy made his spiel in broken English and looked for any sign of interest. Upon showing a vague glimmer of interest in his solitary Time magazine, he folded up the others and offered me the magazine, quoting an inflated but still attractive price. Not having intended to buy a magazine, I refused.

Sensing my hesitation, the boy persisted.

Just as I was about to reiterate my adamant refusal for the umpteenth time, the lights went green, the engines roared, the boy halved his initial offer price, I fumbled for my wallet, and we swapped money for magazine just as the taxi pulled away from the lights. I glanced back to see the boy scramble back to the side walk just in time to avoid an oncoming bus.

The last time I had been blown away by the Indian entrepreneurial spirit had been two years earlier in the foothills of the Himilayas.

My friend and I had decided to do a day trek from Dharamsala to Triund, which is a scenic point sitting at an altitude of around 3000 metres. When we arrived, exhausted, we were surprised and delighted to find a little lean-to hut out of which a wrinkled Tibetan man sold Chai tea, Mars Bars, Coke, Limca and packets of Parle-G biscuits.

At a time when the US is reeling from the impacts of a sub-prime mortgage crisis and the crash on Wall Street, it is reassuring to know that, in India, the heart of the entrepreneurial spirit continues to beat as strongly as ever.

My taxi sped from the airport under the power of its rubber band engine. From what I can tell, Bombay's black and yellow Padmini taxi fleet was last updated by the British in the 1940's.

This particular taxi did not have indicators and the driver deftly compensated for this fact with some agile manoeuvring and a very liberal use of the horn.

On Indian roads, the law of the jungle applies. Motor vehicles share the roads with camels, horses, elephants, push carts and people. Your right of way is not determined by rules or lane markings, but by the size of your vehicle; rickshaws give way to cars, cars give way to buses, and everyone gives way to elephants.

I felt a rush of nervous excitement as we wove in and out of traffic and more often than not drove on the wrong side of the road. I started to wonder at my driver's ability to narrowly escape death at every turn.

The dash board of the taxi was plastered with an amazingly technicoloured display of pictures and statues of the driver's four favourite gods. Ganesh (the elephant god of good fortune), Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth), Vishnu (the all important blue four armed god of preservation) and Hanuman (a monkey god whose special powers I haven't yet been able to ascertain).

With over 100 million gods to choose from, each having their own special power, each one coming in its own size, shape, colour and animal form, Hinduism certainly seems a lot more fun than western religion. A kind of religious choose your own adventure, Hinduism has cornered the religious marketplace in India by providing a plurality of gods which cater to the varying personal preferences of over a billion souls.

I started to relax into the back seat, we had an ample amount of spiritual protection.

Before returning home from Europe I flew to India to travel around for a couple of weeks and enjoy my exchange rate superiority. While I was in Germany I was lucky enough to become friends with an Indian girl who I was able to stay with when I arrived in Bombay. This allowed me to smooth the transition from travelling in the clean, ordered, safe and predictable cities of Europe to the dirty, vibrant, sometimes dicey and always chaotic India.

Immediately upon alighting from the plane at Bombay airport, I was struck by the very distinct aroma of curry. My theory is that they spray the airport down with curry powder, so as to induce a nostalgia in the hearts of departing locals and create an exotic impression on foreigners arriving in India for the first time. However, it could just be an attempt to mask the smell of dirt and pollution that permeates the surrounding streets of Bombay.

Upon leaving the airport building, an extremely skinny Indian man dressed all in white asked to carry my bag, "I am here to help with your bags. I am Amish, what is your good name sir?" I thanked Amish for his willing assistance but informed him that I could manage quite well on my own. "Oh sir, but I insist, it is my job." ...

I succumbed to Amish's persistence and allowed him to hold my bag while I bought a ticket at the government taxi office. Although trolleys were available, Amish insisted on carrying my heavy pack to the taxi. I guess he hoped that I would reward him with a tip, the size of which would be directly proportional to the intensity of his physical exertions.

I jumped into the back seat of the taxi, Amish stood at my window with sheepish eyes, "will you give me some good luck sir? A ten pound note for good luck?!"

Luckily, I had been to India before or I might have fallen for this cunning ploy. To illustrate the absurdity of Amish's request, it should be borne in mind that the median annual salary of a web designer in Bombay in 2006 was around £1,820 (Pay Scale). For those of you who are mathematically challenged, that works out to around £7.50 per day.

I was amused to learn later that the Indian name Amish means 'honest', his parents had obviously had a healthy sense of irony.

Having arrived back from my European travels a couple of weeks ago, I am looking forward to starting as a graduate lawyer in two weeks time. My parents are obviously excited about the prospect of me getting my first real job and earning money.

With my new job comes the privilege of paying board to live at home. But I like to look on the bright side, the board I will have to pay is less than half of what I would have to pay in rent if I move out of home and I don't have to pay for utilities or food. Seeing as I will have more money than I know what to do with, and in all likelihood more money than I will have time to spend, it is fair that I pay my way now that I will have the money to do it.

Having to pay board will provide the much needed incentive to leave home and strike out on my own. I suppose if I am going to learn to fly, I have to be pushed out of the nest sooner rather than later.

It's not that I want to pay more for accommodation and spend more time and effort on menial tasks, but I can imagine going down to lunch with my fellow grads in our first week of training and one of them will inevitably ask "oh, that's a really great sandwich you've got there, did you make it yourself?" This question will most likely be followed by an awkward silence, there is no good way of answering that question without lying. My mum made it for me? I got it from home? I found it in the kitchen? It was in the paper bag with my name on it? Of course, I could continue to live at home and just start making my own sandwiches.