Three Years

June 28th… no, actually – June 29th – marks a special day for me …  Three years ‘on the road’ (an anti-climactic cancelled flight to Thailand delayed me a day). Or at least, Three years since Australia, since Family, since Bubble-o-bills, Milo, and Three Monkeys chai. A few special occasions of relief – Peter once, Mum twice, Dad in San Fran and Sister a whole fabulous 3 months in Barcelona. While floating on Ramble I even got a package full of Milo tins for my birthday. But special treats aside, I’m now into my fourth year away.

Mum and Lil in the Caribbean

Family in San Francisco

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Away from what? I’ve built myself a Home in many places since, I’ve found new Friends, new Communities. I’ve relaxed on beautiful beaches, been to great gigs and slept on many a couch. But… … none of them have been Byron beach, none of them have been Mr Laneous at the Shire with the crew, and none of them have been Mum and Peter’s plush white sofa. I’m slowly losing my accent, gradually warming to the cold, and I’m even saying things like “Sofa”! I’ve learnt to spell like an American, speak like the French and eat like the Dutch.

I didn’t know what I was looking for, when I left in 2008. I didn’t know I’d find True Love,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nomad Bases,

and Bicycle Touring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sure as hell couldn’t have guessed I’d be living in a small city in the Mid West, building a northern hemisphere Home. But it’s a good thing I did, since that’s exactly why I left – to explore, to learn, to grow. Now, I have new words, new (old) boots, and a Whole New Family.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But I still dream of mangoes by the kilo, signs that say “Watch for Kangaroos” and especially, I dream of waking up on that plush white Couch, or camping amongst Bottle Trees on Dad’s farm “DeHavilland”.

If I were ever to make plans, I would say: I plan on this being my last year away. I plan on catching the sailing season in February, and riding the trade winds all the way HOME. I plan on Kilometers and Capsicums and 40 degrees Celsius. But plans are for fools. I’ll just wait and see.