Travelling feels like a full time job. The emotions you get
out of meeting different people and seeing different things, while in
comparison to a desk job are mostly positive, can be uplifting as well as
taxing at the same time. I’m now coming to an end of my Melbourne era, and
while it was "gammon budddd" in some respects, I’ve found
yet another group of friends that have hugely impacted my life in the most
positive way I could imagine. Throughout my five years away from home, there
have been a number of different groups of friends that have all massively
improved my life, from the first group of Aussies I met in Nomads in
Queenstown, who taught me privacy is for those with their own rooms, to the
Irish for a year who taught me how to Guinness race as well as the happier side
of drinking and how to sail like a pro (in good old Jason Darulo) Then there
was the Scottish who worshiped the sun more than the Ancient Greeks, knew the
importance of body image balanced with a healthy serving of Jager Bombs and
pints. The South Americans who taught me how to appreciate general company as
family, friends as dear loved ones and easily the best BBQ’s anywhere in the
world, Aus does not even come close! Next came the English who showed me both
the grime and shine of Manchester, from the best night life I’ve experienced
anywhere in the world, to the most pretentious swank I’ve ever tried my hand at
(and failed miserably, 20 pound old fashions almost bankrupt me).
It’s been the French in Melbourne who have made smiles come easy. Coming from a world appreciated
music scene like Manchester back to anywhere in Australia is never easy, and St
Kilda certainly had different styles to offer than what I was expecting. I chose Melbourne
specifically as I thought it would be a good transition city back in to Aussie
culture, as it has got a multitude of European aspects. Having broken up with a long time girlfriend and obviously still having feelings where she had none, I had to try avoid the mainstream St Kilda scene (as fun as it was), as that was her domain. Instead I sank my teeth in to the warehouse scene with le copains, which provides just a taste of
Manchester but with a lot more short shorts and a lot less Air Max and skinny
jeans (in the summer at least).
So the next step for me is home, to catch up with the first
group of friends I’ve had, see one of my best mates get married to the girl I
introduced him to on New Year’s Eve so many moons ago. After that, my fingers
are crossed for my Canadian visa, sitting there in the application pool
taunting me. I’m thirsting for my fourth country of residence in three years.
Although having a bunch of different countries of residence is a pain,
especially when applying for visas and having to get Police Certificates from all
the different places. But hey, travelling feels like a full time job. After Canada, who knows, I’m almost TEFL
qualified now and might head to South America to teach English, so pretty soon
some Columbians or Peruvians might be answering your thankyou’s with “No drama,
banana farmer.” Looking back on my last five years, I can write a letter to my
16 year old self. The boy who wanted to live in New Zealand because of Lord of the
Rings, England because of Castles and Canada because of the cold. I can tell
that little nerd that years down the line two of those he’s crossed off, and a
third is on the cards, although all the agenda has changed, the places are
still the same. I can happily say that even though my Superannuation/KiwiSaver (401k)
is telling me to die at 42, I’m enjoying every last moment of my life at this
point in time.
“Did you seen the stylish kids in the riot, shovelled up
like muck, set the night on fire”
