Bonjour, Ciao, Hola, G’day, Alright Butt?
Hello friends, family and strangers, welcome to my cosy corner of this vast wide web of a world. Thank you for taking the time to visit me. Some of you will have been here before, way, way, way back in twenty-fourteen, so I apologise for the long ol’ silence. It’s not like I haven’t had anything to say, I’ve just been uber busy, which is a completely rubbish excuse for someone who has completed a writing degree. A few lessons have been learned since returning from my first bout of travels:
It’s okay to be a workaholic, how else would we reach our goals? However…
- Always make time to do what you love
- Don’t stop reading
- Exercise makes everything better
Oh you’re from the UK, do you live in London?
The place I call home is a sleepy Victorian coastal town in England. If you’re a fan of Banksy, you might know of it, for our dilapidated Tropicana on the seafront was the venue for his famous art exhibition, Dismaland, in twenty-fifteen. By car, Weston-super-Mare is about thirty minutes South of Bristol and three hours West of London. Rain or shine (normally rain), thousands of people visit us every year to eat fish and chips on the beach, and wander along the promenade with an ice cream or stick of rock. A holiday in The Mare isn’t complete without a donkey ride across the sand.
Surely you miss home?
My best friend has four legs. He’s ten years old and is sporting a handsome grey beard. We go for walks for about an hour and a half every day, which is great for our Fitbit/fitness obsession. Sometimes we invite friends to join us, especially if they have their own four-legged companion; Len-dog loves socialising. After our jaunts along the beach, we head home to be greeted by our beautiful fluffy mini tiger, Mr Jelly Cat. A house is not a home without a Maine Coon, that is, with the exception of those glorious days that he’s managed to catch a bird and bring it home as a ‘gift’. The hardest thing about the lifestyle I now lead, is having to leave these two behind.
An ‘about me’ section wouldn’t be complete without a paragraph about my amazing parents. They’ve probably both known about my wish to leave the UK longer than I have. For two and a half years, I’ve been living at home and working seven days a week. It would not have been possible for me to save all that money for the trip I had planned without their support and patience. People always ask me the same question: ‘how do your mum and dad feel about you leaving?’, and I always have the same answer: ‘they tell me that they’ll be disappointed with me if I don’t go’. So that pretty much settled everything. Nobody wants disappointed parents.
That sounds great, but why don’t you want to live in the UK?
Travel isn’t just about exploring. I’m actually trying to find my place in the world, because as much as I love my home, and it will always be my home, The Mare is not the place I want to be. I feel this way about the UK, too. I admit that I probably haven’t seen enough of my own country to make this decision, but something is telling me that the only way I’ll know for sure, is by flying.
I’m searching for my forever home.
Enough questions, it’s over to you
Anyway, I hope you enjoy your time here (feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated). Make yourself a GnT… Wait, what? I said a cup of tea. Behave. Make yourself a cup of tea, wriggle your feet into those fluffy slippers and follow my meanderings around the this world. It’s certainly cheaper than a plane ticket – but don’t rule it out.
*psssst, download the Skyscanner app or check out the website, you know, just in case.*
This page was written to the sound of an Ibiza Cafe Del Mar Chillout Mix on YouTube.
Kinaesthesia 