Return ticket

I’ve made this trip many times before. However, this is my first time leaving London holding a return ticket.

It’s a bizarre feeling. The thought of going home for an overseas holiday is a little hard to compute. It’s home! Australia isn’t overseas!

It’s caught me a bit off guard. Compared with trips in my early 20’s, the anticipation hasn’t been quite as strong. After all, I know what’s coming. There’s no need for guidebooks, I know my way around. And there’s really no need to plan what to pack. I know where to go if I need something.

I know I’m ok in Australia. It’s easy.

That sense of security caught me off guard late last night, when it finally sank in that I was about to take the long haul flight and I wasn’t at all prepared. I was up until the early hours chaotically throwing whatever was on the floor into a suitcase. Normally a meticulous ‘roller’, I could only manage to scrunch clothes into a ball and toss them onto the pile. Before I knew it, I was a few hours away from my flight with no clear strategy on how I’d even get to the airport. Evidently, peak hour plus luggage makes me the most unpopular boy on the Tube.

Now that I’ve had a chance to catch my breath here at the airport, I’m thinking, wow. Wow, I’m going home. But wow, home’s not really home. Wow, it turns out I really don’t know what to expect after all. It’s kind of freaking me out! (The complimentary vodkas may be a contributing factor.)

When I booked my ticket back to Australia all those months ago, I was so excited. London was hard. I was navigating so many things; new job, different culture, no friends, new friends. It was exhausting! And while I was determined to see it through, the idea of a little reprieve was very appealing.

And then London crept up on me. I began to get some rhythm. I learnt how to weave through the hoards during the peak hour crush (I hardly knock anyone over anymore). I taught myself tricks on how to beat the cold (mostly beer and central heating – I still haven’t come to grips with thermals). And I found some great people in this city, with more arriving every day or so it seems.

Now that I’ve found that rhythm, I want to stand still a while and let it flow. Don’t get me wrong, I’m totally looking forward to catching up with the people I’ve missed. The sunshine and I have so much catching up to do. And I do love Melbourne. But part of me feels a couple more months in London before returning wouldn’t have gone astray.

I suppose I’m just a touch afraid that I’ll return to London and be offbeat again. That the lure of old friends, warm weather and yes, decent coffee, might mean having to go through the adjusting one more time.

But then I suppose there are worse positions to be in. Woe is me! I have to return to a sun-soaked country for an awesome time before resuming my trip of a lifetime. How terrible!

And I get to go back with a fabulous tan.