My Journey .. My Story

I've decided to write my travels into a story, not just a blog... it’s a bloody long process though. 

More than 2 and a half years on the road, travelling the world, meeting wonderful people, seeing amazing places, having remarkable experiences, I thought I should create something to show for it, something to remember all the days and nights.

Keeping a diary, and writing this blog is the best thing I have ever done, yes, I have amazing experiences, I have seen amazing things, been to wonderful places, but without this blog I wouldn't have anything to show for it, I could tell my stories at anytime, the way that I remember them in that moment, but as time goes on, I would never remember them the same. I have so many more unpublished stories, in my head as well as countless "scribblings" in Word, 2 full diaries of thoughts and ideas, successes, worries and triumphs. 

I remember the last month, the last week before I left, right before I left security, safety, familiarity. I was afraid, nervous, and unsure, unfortunately I don’t remember feeling much excitement. I couldn't picture myself there, it was the great unknown, For weeks, I couldn’t think past the 11^th of June. That was D day, for the 4 long months, from deciding to leave, buying my ticket.. the 11th of June, that was the 'end.' I analogised it as jumping off a cliff, stepping into the absolute unknown.

My last 2 weeks in Melbourne, June 2011 I could only think in 12 - 24 hour blocks. I would wake up in the morning and just want to get through the day, I would go to sleep at night, counting down, 10 more sleeps, 9 more sleeps… until what? There was no resolution, just checking my bags at the airport, saying goodbye to the people I loved the most.

I left for a hundred reasons; I stayed away for a 100 more. Coming to the end of my degree, not wanting to pursue it as a career was a biggy! Not wanting to find full time work, to enter the 'rat race,' and not wanting to get stuck in Melbourne was another. When I left there was not much keeping me there, I have great friends, but I knew I would see them again and my family had made plans to come to see me.. eventually.

Budapest - September 2011

I traveled from the south of Portugal, via Madrid to see mum. I arrived in Budapest about 3 hours later than expected. My flight out of Madrid was delayed and instead of arriving at 1 am I arrived around 4 am. I got the bus from the plane to the airport across the tarmac, I heard a young girl abut my age tell an older man she was from Melbourne, travelling around Europe alone, I thought, awesome maybe her and I can get a taxi into town together. At the taxi rink we met a guy from England, who was in Budapest to visit friends for a bucks night/ weekend. We stopped on the way to the hotel to get some cash out. I was the last to be dropped off. Mum had spent the previous 3 weeks travelling around the Balkans on a bus tour with her friend Diaga.  They had 5 days in Budapest and I was there to meet them. We had a lovely time together, Budapest is a wonderful city, and mum treated me. We went to an orchestral concert in a beautiful old building, walked around the city, went to the Baths, but didn't bathe. It was sad leaving her, she had made plans to come back to Europe that Christmas, but I was on my own again. 

To think back on the fear and uncertainty of before I left, it is the best decision I have ever made, I can't bring myself to think where I would be now had I never left. We will be back in Melbourne for the second time in the past 3 years, in about a month, for 3 months. As much as I am excited to see everyone, be "home" again, I don't want to stay. I don't want to get stuck there again.

The airport in Portugal (flying to Ghana) - January 2012

I have never felt so physically ill in my whole life. I have never been so afraid, so unsure and so unbelievably uncommitted to my decisions. Even thinking back now, 2 years later the feeling returns. I remember the day as if it were the turning point in my life. Had I taken the easy way out and not taken that flight, had I not talked myself into it, I don’t know where I would be now. James left the hotel for the airport around 6am, he had a flight to Nice, to start work at the hostel there, where a friend of mine had worked the year before. My flight wasn’t for another few hours. I knew it would be almost impossible to buy things like sunscreen and tampons when I got to Ghana, and without anything better to do I went into the airport about 6 hours early. and if I didn’t leave the hotel I would never get to the airport, and never get on the flight. It was Australia Day 2012. I tried to check into the flight before mine, as I was so early the gate hadn't closed yet for the previous flight. That was the longest afternoon of my life.  I had to talk myself into getting the flight. Looking back on it, that was the longest weekend of my life. I was so far out of my comfort zone. Flying over the Sahara was spectacular, the sun was setting, it was as if I was looking out over red carpeted hills that went on forever. I could only just see the sun set out the window of the other side of the plane, it set so quickly before I could reach over to take a better look, it had already disappeared over the horizon and it was completely black. I got off the plane into an oven. That was just the beginning of Africa. 

After Ghana - May 2012

Reverse Culture Shock.. I had heard that it might not be instantaneous, but this is horrible. In the build up to leaving Ghana, I had imagined what it would be like, leaving Africa for Europe. I thought about getting to Istanbul, imagined what it might be like, mum had been there less than a year before, Istanbul was NOTHING like I had expected. I imagined it to be very dirty, (but not to the extent of Ghana) I had imagined lots of people sleeping on the streets, and kids begging. It was so clean and organised, cars drove in their assigned lanes, there was little to no honking and I felt safe. I never felt in danger as such in Ghana, but I knew that if something were to happen, we’d be stuffed. I love Istanbul, we ate mussels on the street corners, bought a wrap from a guy with a little push cart who made it was we watched, went to the spice bizarre and oh the most amazing experience was the Hamam. A hot stone steam room and full body scrub. After 4 months of Ghana, it was amazing to finally feel clean. The culture shock hit me most when I went to visit James in Nice, I went out with them to a local bar, they were running around trying to find people at a few different bars, they had all said they would be in different places, and the amount of money spent on drinks, I might have bought 3 or 4 - that would have been enough to travel to the beach and stay at big millys just outside Accra for a few days. I couldn't justify it. 

After a year of travel I met someone very special, someone with the same ideas and plans, someone I could enjoy the journey with. We have been together for more than a year and a half now, inseparable. We have traveled Scotland, southern France, northern Italy, through Austria, all around the western part of Czech, spent a night in Guangzhou, 3 months in Victoria and all around New Zealand. We make plans and change plans and make new ones everyday, but regardless of the 'destination' of our plans, the journey remains the same. We are loving every day together. We have been planning a business together for some time now, we love talking about it, how, where, we're very excited. 

Just another day. Rotorua - July 2013

In one word, Rotorua is hospitality. 

The town is packed to the brim with cafes, hotels, souvenir shops and restaurants. 

Sunday afternoon, I was sitting in a lonely little café in town, it was completely empty when I walked in. I don’t usually make a habit of it, I tend to judge a book by its cover when it comes to restaurants and cafes. If it’s empty, it generally means they're  doing something wrong. But I was dying for a pee, and some peace and quiet couldn’t do me any harm. I like scoping out the competition anyway, see how we match up. Unfortunately, like most, I don’t like spending money on shit coffee, so I’m very selective of where I go in town. I chose a hot chocolate and rushed off to the bathroom. On my way back to the table I picked up a few magazines, Adam and I want to buy a house, and I haven’t been in the mood to look at home improvement magazines for years, but they had a few. So I wondered over to my table and started flicking though. I’m putting off my assignment, hoping to change courses soon, so as I stare at a blank screen on my laptop, enjoying my peace- wondering why there are 4 staff working and no customers, I take a sip of my hot chocolate. Like I expected before I walked in, SHIT, it burnt all the feeling out of my mouth. Luckily the lady brought over a jug of water – so I could drink some cold water that has probably been sitting in their dirty fridge for weeks. 

To take a quick stab in the dark.. I'd say the reason they are dead has something to do with the drink being shit and the place smelling like deep fried oil.

I chose a seat near the window as it was a little fancier then the rest. All in all, the café is a joke. I knew though, as soon as I sat in the window, people passing by would notice a body in the once empty café, and walk in. It didn’t take long for someone to walk in, she walked past as I did, and then came back. It was the magazines in the corner that attracted me, I wonder what attracted her, She walked in, the rest of her group mulled in the doorway. She approached the counter, and stared up at the board. The waitress asked if she would like to see a menu, the girl laughed and said “I’m sorry my eyesight is shocking,” in a British accent and continued to stare at the blackboard behind the waitress. She walked back to her friends at the door, and in a loud voice whispered “$3.50 for a flat white $4.50 for a latte.” She was snickering, but something caught their attention and about 10 people walked in. “Ohh, it smells nice in here.” They are kidding, surely.

The group of 10 are sitting right next to me now, that’s nice, I can’t distinguish one particular conversation, but there’s a mixture of German English and British. “They gave me a 10 grand pay rise, I didn’t tell them I was going travelling” That'd be nice, I barely earn 10 grand. 

So much for some peace and quiet, the only thing that I liked about the place was the peace. And now that it’s gone, should I move on?

Rotorua is full of accommodation; motels, hotels, backpackers, holiday parks and campsites. They are all pretty much the same. I would like to find the statistics on small businesses in Rotorua. Taking a stab in the dark, I would say 50% of the shops are Cafes or Restaurants, 25% Retail and 25% closed, waiting to become some form of hospitality. There is no care taken though, no pride taken by the owners in their businesses. You would think, with so much competition in such a small, predominately tourist driven town, they would take more pride in their work, set themselves apart from the rest, instead of just recreating the same crap. 

I came into town with Adam this morning; he’s working for the boys again today (at one of the nicest hotels in town- it floats between first and second on Trip Adviser). I spent the first 2 hours at a café I really like; it’s good more than it’s bad. I decided I should get out, go for a walk, I was occupying a table that could seat 10, and I was a lonely one. I headed up the main street, had a look in same clothing shops I look in every time I come into town. My wardrobe is full of summer outfits, and yet all I buy is black- for work. This is the most winter I have had in about 3 years, and it feels like the coldest of my life. And yet, all I buy is black- work is life at the moment.

The big move.. Rotorua, NZ - November 2013

We gave ourselves about 5 days to pack up and clean our unit. Adam would say I am using the word 'we' too generously.. We sold our furniture, and slept on the floor the last 2 nights. We scrubbed and patched the walls, we cleaned the bathroom, kitchen and outside. We made, what seemed like never ending piles of what we were keeping and getting rid of, and then the 'maybe' pile which just seemed to grow and then shrink and grow again as we couldn’t decide between what we wanted and what we needed. We were headed north, after about 11 months living together in the one city, it was definitely time for a change, time to see more. We packed our lives into our car, gave away our cat, and left.. just like that. We were headed to the Bay of Islands for a workaway job we had organised. We drove to the Coromandel first, then around to where Adam had spent 3 weeks planting trees, past Auckland, and further north. Paihai, the hub of the Bay of Islands is beautiful, but there was not enough there to keep us interested for the summer, and we didn't have a secure job organised just work in exchange for accommodation. 

Adam and I are now living in the South Island, in New Zealand, in Queen Charlotte Sound, at a lodge here. Adam does maintenance, housekeeping, some bar work, whatever needs doing really, I work in the bar and restaurant. 

We are headed back to Melbourne in 39 days.