On Going Home

Sitting in an airport, writing and smirking when the announcers struggle with a passenger’s name over the PA system – it’s bizarre how familiar this feels. I have flashbacks to doing the same thing in Manchester, Istanbul, Berlin, Amsterdam and Reykjavik.

I’ve kept this trip pretty quiet, but my Instagram and Twitter feed will give it away soon enough.

In 30 minutes I’ll be boarding my flight to Australia.

When I started this post that first line said three days. Then two days. I just haven’t found time to finish this article until now – and that alone sums up what the last few weeks have been like. Actually, make that the last few months.

I left Australia almost three years ago. I can’t decide if that’s a long time. When I first left, everybody asked when I’d be back. About two years in, they stopped. Which was nice. Because until recently I had no idea. I figured one day I’d wake up and be ready to go home and so I’d go. Except I haven’t got to that point yet.

So why am I going home?

In short, my sister’s getting married. Attendance isn’t optional. That isn’t to say that I don’t want to go back. But as anyone who’s been travelling long term will attest, home is usually the last place we want to be. Most of us could quickly list 146 other places we’d prefer to visit before heading back to where we’re from.

The timing is awful. Perhaps worse than awful. I travelled for six months in 2013, which was longer than expected and could afford. I borrowed money from my parents to purchase my travel insurance. When I got to Vancouver I bought shoes for work with my credit card. I very reluctantly parted with $20 when I opened my bank account in case the monthly account fee was withdrawn. Financially, times were not good. So for the last four months I have worked my BUTT off. For the first month I worked two jobs, which meant 55-hour weeks. I quickly burnt out (no surprise there) and dropped one job, but kept picking up extra shifts at the other one and six-day weeks became routine. Ahhh now you see why my posts have been embarrassingly rare this year.

In some ways, it’s paid off. When I decided to come back to Australia I initially planned on returning for three weeks. But I’ve extended the trip to three and a half months to give me time to see everyone I want to see AND travel in my own country for once. Saving so much in the last few months means I can actually afford to do that, so it’s not all bad.

The downside is I’m even more exhausted than I was after those 55-hour weeks. My travel-work-travel-work routine that I’ve lived for the last three years is intense. When I’m working, I’m working as much as possible so when I’m finished I can travel as much as possible. There’s been no middle ground. I’m not complaining – it’s the life I’ve built and I love it. It allows me to explore countries and cultures in a way that just wouldn’t be possible in a two-week holiday here and there.

Today was the first day in a very long time that I actually relaxed. You’d think the day I leave would be the most stressful of all, but getting organised to move across the world gets easier the more you do it. And this is round four. Today I had a picnic outside in the sun and for almost two hours I forgot that I was uprooting my life for the third time in a year. Although my trip back to Australia is temporary, it’s a chance to get a lot of things back home – souvenirs from the last three years, clothes I don’t need anymore, presents I had to buy to make up for the fact I haven’t bought anyone anything for years and also books. There’s about 45 books in my suitcase, most of which I carted from the UK. I added a few, including some not-so-small ones. Opps. It was worth the $70 is cost me to purchase an extra bag for my flight. So packing was a fun game of working out what I needed for my trip, what I needed to take home and what could stay in Canada.

In other fun discoveries, I realised most of my electronics have either Canadian or UK power cords. Guess who’ll be buying some adapters at the airport when she lands.

One reason I’ve kept this trip quiet is I was trying to keep my plans open. The more people who know I’m back, the more directions I’ll be pulled in. Of course I want to see everyone, but I also want to relax and darting from house to house seeing everyone I’d like to doesn’t sound relaxing. I also want to travel. As I’ve travelled around the world I’ve been embarrassed how little I’ve seen of my own state, let alone my own country. I’d like to rectify that this time around.

I’ll be spending my first week in Brisbane. It’s where my sister lives but I’ve never spent much time there, so I’m looking forward to getting to know the city.

Then it will be off to Sydney, to meet some new faces (my friend had a baby!!) and see my first AFL game in far too long. My boys (Geelong) are playing in Sydney and I am ridiculously excited.

In early June I’ll be returning to Tasmania, my home. I’ll be there for a month and hope to see some of the sights I keep recommending to people I meet but haven’t seen myself, like the Bay of Fires. It’s not the best time (read: it’s the worst time) of year to visit, but I’ve packed my rain boots from Vancouver so I’ll be set.

After Tassie it’s back to Queensland and back into travel mode. My parents are little globetrotters too and are spending about a year exploring Australia with a caravan. I’m going to join them while they head to Far North Queensland – a part of the country I didn’t think I’d get to explore for a long long time. I’ll be sleeping in a swag and I can’t wait. Apart from a flight change in Cairns many years ago, I’ve never been any more north than Brisbane. And that’s pretty low down on the map when you look at it.

I’ll be finishing up by attending ProBlogger on the Gold Coast at the end of August. It will be my first blogging conference since TBU Rotterdam last year and I think a brilliant way to cap off my time in Aus.

So stay tuned while I finally get to share some stories with you from my fabulous home country.