Life's pretty damn funny isn't it? In most cases you start off walking diligently down one path, head held as high as your spirits and a distinct outcome in sight. Then, without warning, a cyclone crosses your path (this did actually happen by the way!) and everything is up in the air. Everything! Your life suddenly gets forced into a new direction, the path a little clouded and spirits certainly not as high as they were or should be... Then what? Do you give up or do you keep going to achieve the goal you set out to conquer.
I'm sat writing this when I should be sleeping - only I can't sleep. This is a pretty standard affair but for the first time in months I've felt the need to put pen to paper and scribble down my thoughts and realise that it isn't just the booming music from the bar keeping me up. I know I've got several million other posts to write but they can wait.
I'm coming up to hitting the six month benchmark on my travels. That thought alone terrifies the crap out of me. Five of those months have been spent in Australia and I've met some of the most amazing people who I'll never forget. Never! I've travelled about 6000km from my original destination in Fremantle, Perth, to my current residence... Chilling on Magnetic Island as a WFA (work for accommodation) staff member at BASE backpackers. Who'd have thought?! Tomorrow my best friend leaves to head back to Scotland via Asia and I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do without him. Even when I was heading up the east coast feeling exceptionally lonely -sometimes having an awesome time, others having one of those "please god just let it be over" days - I KNEW I would be reunited with a best pal and everything would be all okay...
Now I'm alone again... Urgh!
A thought hit me tonight, funnily enough whilst watching the penultimate episode of Breaking Bad and someone mentioned the Ritz, but I think I've hit that point in the backpacker's life where they miss home. I miss home! I'm actually homesick and I don't understand why because I'm on some crazy island 8km off the coast of Townsville, I'm chilling in pure tropical bliss, and meeting more awesome people, but then the thought of the Ritz brought back a memory of home comforts. You know, being able to cook (for the love of everything wonderful I MISS COOKING), bake, blog frequently (I'm so sorry), sleep in a double bed with super clean and fresh linen, take a bath (lots of bubbles please), have a proper cup of English tea with a freshly baked scone, clotted cream, and strawberry jam, have a roast dinner, see my friends, have a pint that doesn't cost me $10, and just live in comfort for a day or two.
All of this coming from a comment about the Ritz? Mental, maybe, but justified. Before I left for Australia the wonderful mothership and I took a trip to London and spent one night in the famous 5* Langham Hotel and had the best breakfast from one of Roux's restaurants attached to the hotel. How different life is now?! I honestly wouldn't change it for the world, I'm living THE dream (I mean I wake up to the sound of the ocean on a daily basis these days) but maybe just maybe I wish I could fly back to the UK, see my loved ones, and realise that life before I left really wasn't all that bad. I just didn't appreciate everything there but they always say that you don't know what you've got until it's gone, right?
Raché, xo
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