So in my last blog I lied. I didn't actually leave Sydney in 'two hours' as I said I would, but missed the bus, thanks to the ineptitude of my travel agent who told me the wrong bus stop, and spent a woeful 2 hours in the teeming rain at 11 pm trying to find accommodation. After the string of bad luck since Christmas though, there really was only one thing to do - laugh - which I did in an recklessly lunatical fashion in the taxi on the way to a new hostel, much to the dismay of the taxi driver. Having decided that this was simply ridiculous, I actually then had a lovely time in my last day in Sydders. I met some Swedes, demanded a refund from the travel agent, spent some time in the NSW Art Gallery, ate Starbuck's cake (mmmm :-) ) and hopped on the next bus to Byron Bay.
Byron was beautiful. I very luckily had a one off gorgeous day (after a significant spell of storms causing lots of flooding) and met up with Jane, a friend I made in Ecuador. Jane and I went up to the lighthouse, sauntered round the national park, ate organic deliciousnesses in a hippie cafe while serenaded by a random traveling guitar player and attempted to get into the whole free-lovinf, free-living Byron scene by reading the tea leaves in the bottom of our cups. Don't ask me why this is at all a hippie activity - but it was fun. Next stop on the whistle-stop trip up the coast was Brisbane. Not being a beach town, Brisbane instead was adorned by a lovely artificial lagoon right in the centre of swanky, artsy Southbank ( on the South bank of the river), where I spent an afternoon sipping coffee and getting arted up in the art galleries and museums. In the evening I chillaxed back in my hostel in Chinatown and got into the backpacker spirit with a few bevvies and a pub quiz, from which I won a bottle of wine. Always nice. Although I can't quite understand why Brisbane is epithetically known as Brisvegas, it is a pretty bustling city. I preferred it instantly to Sydney, even though my quick touristy trip around the main sights of the town hall, government buildings and botanical gardens was in yet more drizzling rain. Brisbane has a much more cultural feel than Sydney, plus being in the sub tropics it's a damn site warmer and seeing palm trees scattered along the pavement edges and brightly coloured butterflies decorating the plants was a bit of a novelty for me. But alas, I had to leave Brisvegas after just one short but sweet day, and head on...
Next stop - Noosa. Noosa is very beautiful. Even in the rain. The horrendous downpours of the first day did make me wonder quite why this was called the Sunshine Coast...but hey. I met some great French people in my room, one of whom I convinced to teach me how to surf. Unfortunately we never did get chance for a lesson (darn rain!) but did have a lovely long walk through the national park, oggled a couple of koalas, saw some goanna lizards and got attacked by leeches. Lovely. Two days in Noosa and...Next stop. Hervey Bay, gateway to the world's largest sand island, Fraser Island. After meeting up with Kim and Meiken, some Danish friends from Sydney, for a quick drink in Hervey, I was quickly whisked off to Fraser at the unseemly hour of 6am. The early start was definitely worth it though, as Fraser was amazing. In my group of 11 (4 Norwegians, 5 German, 2 English) we drove around the island in a 4 wheel drive, taking in the sights by day and sitting around campfires by night, drinking goon over traveling tales and bonding over some seriously 'interesting' camp-cooked meals! On the first day we trekked to a little lake in the centre of the island before heading up the beach to our aboriginal camp site. The first night we got to see some aboriginal dances, get our faces dawbed with body art and get a glimpse of the aboriginee culture. It was a lot of fun - perhaps now quite as exhilarating as finding a death adder under our bench and panicking slightly as he instantly struck a strike pose before sulkily skulking into the bush, or dodging spiders the size of our hands on the way to the bathroom - but definitely a good craic. Aside from the spiders we also fended off a fair few dingos who popped into the site to say hello, dodged shored bluebottle jelly fish as we wandered up the beach, and marveled at the different types of lizard and gecko we saw. The second morning, on our way up to Indian Head lookout, we also saw an eagle swoop down into the bush and pick up a stunningly brightly coloured coral snake for his breakfast. Amazing! Aside from the wildlife, however, Fraser is also a natural landscape wonderland. We took a dip in the Champagne pools - rock pools where the tide washes up forming froth and foam - the only place on the island where you could swim in salt water. The rest of the sea is inhabited by jelly fish, fireweed (which can give you third degree burns) and is the mating ground for tiger sharks, which have been known to attack humans. That, added to a deadly rip tide, and I hereby conclude Fraser's sea is not bery hospitable! We could swim in the pure fresh water lakes and streams on the island though. We took a trip up to Lake Allom, where we played with some inquisitive turtles, swam in Lake McKenzie, a gorgeous clear blue lake surrounded by white sand, and trekked over sand dunes to dip into Lake Wabby. And if this doesn't sound exciting enough for you, I also had the additional fun of driving on sand, getting the car stuck, getting everyone to get out and push, and getting so stuck on a couple of occasions that we had to dig ourselves out! Fraser was fun :-)
Having had such a good time in Fraser, returning to Hervey Bay to hear that further up the coast they were victim to cyclones was not exactly the best news. After a day of calling hostels, tour operators and boat companies etc. (and of course, chilling out in front of a few films), it appeared that we had hit proper lucky as the weather took a very sudden turn. Despite the cylcones causing massive floods in Airlie Beach (my next stop) and even destroying a bridge, buses were starting to get through and I was able to head off up to Airlie Beach to meet my Irish friend from Sydney, Marian, and wait for a day in glorious sunshine for our Whitsundays cruise to start. And we have had noting but glorious sunshine for the whole trip. Airlie itself is a stunning little holiday town with a beautiful artificial lagoon (can't swim in the sea because of the stingers), but the Whitsunday islands are even more so. Pristine white sand surrounding lush green islands set in perfect azure sea, deep blue sky above and dazzling sunshine, cruising through the waves on a sun-decked boat listening to music, dipping into the waters of the Great Barrier Reef to spot corals of every shape, size and colour and kiss the tropical, multi-coloured fish, bedding down for the night on deck, watching the most romantic moonlit scene unfold as the stars twinkle into a velvety sky and the southern cross rises above the islands, sipping wine and pondering the wonder of the world.........this was my Whitsunday cruise. Of course, I did a fair amount of chatting, dolphin and turtle spotting, and playing drinking games with a forfeit of downing a snorkel bong (a snorkel with bottle on top contraption devised to supply amusement to onlookers and distinct bewilderment to person having to down goon [Ozzie boxed wine] through said implement) too - but the most part was spent realising that I am obscenely lucky to be here. I have had a fabulous time up the coast so far and I am rapidly revising my ambivalence to Australia as each new place I go to seems to be more pardisical. The only disappointment of the Whitsundays is that I didn't find Nemo on my snorkelling excursions...but as I head further north into the tropics I am sure I will find him somewhere!
I'll leave you with the Whitsundays for now - but tales of Marian and Helen's stunning Queensland trip are in the making as we speak, and I'll will keep you posted on the next marvels and wonders of Oz.
Love for now,
xxx
Friday, 22 February 2008
Saturday, 9 February 2008
The long-awaited, celebrated, ill-fated tales of Helen in Sydney, and so forth
Well hello there,
Apologies, yet again, for an exceedingly tardy blog entry. No excuses this time - I'm just lazy :-) I left you all in a tantalised and cliff-hanger-esque state, green with envy of the wonders of family holidaying and The Best New Year's Party In The World I was about to experience, poised with anticipation and waiting on my every word...well, maybe not...but I am very pleased to say that Christmas and New Year was every bit as good as I hoped and that it provides some worthy blog-fodder with which to start this entry. Finishing up work before Christmas with some boozy business bashes, Mum, Dad and Rachel were the first to break me out of my working-world and get me back into family living. Although it was obviously fabulous to see them all and get some hugs, I do have to say that the Cadbury's and Marmite they brought with them were almost of equal fabulousness. With Sarah arriving from New Zealand the following day, we then set off for our beautiful apartment by the river in North Sydney. The apartment itself was lovely - I got my own room (albeit the living room), and my own bed (albeit a sofa bed) - bliss! Most days we slept in (woken only by the screaming cries of the parakeets outside the window who sounded like distraught babies!), did some stuff, ate Nice, Proper, English Food, and finished off with wine and chocolate, which is always good. The holiday activities comprised of trips to various touristy places, interspersed with touristy activities and other such touristy things. We went to Taronga zoo and marvelled at the Tasmanian devil scurrying back and forth in its enclosure like a possessed yo-yo, visited the aquarium and were sorely disappointed that the touchy-feely pool wasn't open, meandered through Paddy's market, hopped on and off the monorail, perused the sights of Darling Harbour, learned the history of Sydney in the Sydney Museum...we also had the mandatory beach-days in beautiful Manly and found a gorgeous little secluded beach called Chinaman's Beach with a park right beside it and an ice-cream man (simple things...). One highlight was going to the Blue Mountains, a national park a couple of hours out of Sydney. Aside from the memorable journey there, in which I attempted to get behind the wheel of our hire car after 6 months off the road, there were some awesome sights there. The little villages up in the mountains were quaint and parochial, with great backdrops of mountains and jungle. The Blue Mountains actually do appear blue, due to the refraction of light through the oils released into the atmosphere by the jungle trees. We hiked to see some waterfalls, went on the world's steepest railway, and had us three sisters' photo taken with The Three Sisters (a rock formation of three upwards-jutting rocks) in the background. Nice. Other activities included mosying round The Rocks' market, seeing a spectular production of Billy Elliot, and Sarah, Rachel and I went to see a Jose Gonzalez gig. All rounded off with a few meals out (including at Nico's where I worked, ostensibly so I could take advantage of the staff discount!) and some present buying ( in which I successfully coerced my parents into buying me a beautiful opal necklace), the holiday events were definitely memorable.
And Christmas itself was also memorable. With everyone whole-heartedly agreeing with me that Christmas in Oz is just not 'right', we decided to try to do Christmas in English style. After the slightly odd festive offering from the Sydney Opera House, 'Chirstmas at the House' (where a rendition of 'Six White Boomers' [i.e. kangaroos] was a particular high point), and some rather disappointing 'carol' services in which all carols were belted out in the style of Mariah Carey's 'All I want for Christmas', we got our Christmas DVDs out, put traditional carols on the stereo, and settled down to a good roast. The fact that so many friends and family had sent cards and presents made the day more special, but just being with my own family made my Christmas perfect. The weather was not the 40 degrees we expected (but rather an overcast 20 degrees), the flat wasn't quite as cozy as home, but nonetheless the most important elements were there. New Year's was equally special, seeing us head for a neearby sighting point to have a picnic and watch the spectacular fireworks over the harbour bridge. From where we were we could see three sets of fireworks over the harbour, plus those in the city and Darling Harbour. Truly an experience which will stand out in my year of travels.
Sadly, though, after the festivities and activities (and one notably drunken cocktail party with the wonderful Marian and companions), the holiday had to end. I had to go back to work and resume my every-day Sydney life. And this is where the trials and torments, the long-awaited and ill-fated tales (as entitle this entry) begin....(cue drum roll and dramatic, suspense-fraught music). Although I tried to combat the homesickness by jumping straight back to work, my return to the restaurant was greeted less than kindly by my evil boss (the one who tried to fire me for being early), and was abruptly ended with me rather unfortunately doing my back in. Despite the heart-warming number of visits I got from gift-bearing friends while I was flat on my back for three days, injuring myself wasn't really the greatest of occurences, and was certainly not what I had in my plan. Nonetheless, after a few days rest I hopped back into the saddle and soldiered on back into the office. Not being able to work in the restaurant gave me a massive chunk of free time, mainly filled with tv watching and having meals with friends, but really didn't help my financial situation. I realised just after Christmas that I needed to get my head down and save in order to have the funds I wanted to start travelling again independently, but the back problem put the first damper on this. Then, as soon as I managed to find another restaurant job, I fell over at work, bashed my knee, and thus could not work - damper number two. And then, just to make life more interesting, my contract with Deloitte finished and I couldn't find any other office work. After many phone calls and pleas to agencies, I eventually decided that I needed to find some work - any work - to fill my time, and to stop me from frittering my money away on coffee and wine. Compounded with the fact that I had just found out I wasn't entitled to tax back, meaning I would have $1800 less than I thought to travel with, I was getting pretty desperate. Simultaneously I had grown tired of the tyrannical rules of my flat and had decided to move out ao as not to feel uncomfortable in my own living space, so I was jobless and homeless (ahhhh). This led me to moving back into City Central Backpackers - that paragon of cleanliness and luxury, where every oddball staying there and all the bugs in the kitchen give you pleasant company 24/7 - and getting into some work fundraising with a charity - Amesty International - for a basic salary, just to fill in the final days of Sydney. In actual fact the charity work turned out to be a very interesting and valuable experience. Working for Amnesty really highlighted to me how fortunate the western world is, the atrocities which occur in the world, and exactly how important it is that we take responsibility for it. Although face-to-face fundraising was emotionally and physically exhausting, having to remain unnarturally high all day in an attempt to convince people to sign up, it did hammer home that there are some amazing people out there. Of course, many of the people I encountered ignored me, one drunk man pushed me into a table, I was sworn at and laughed at, but many were genuine and kind-hearted individuals. Aside from my colleagues' admirable passion and enthusiasm for charity work, I met many individuals in the general public who really cared and were a joy to speak to. Nonetheless, not having the heart to admit that I had to leave to travel, I made an elaborate story up to excuse me from this job. It was made especially difficult as my colleagues were so positive and uplifting - and gave me some serious sympathy when my next disaster befell me....I got 10 mozzie bites on my foot, which I had an allergic reaction to, which then became infected, meaning I was put on hgh dose antibiotics, resulting in my very last night in Sydney being spent sober as the pope while all my friends merrily celebrated/commiserated in my start of traveling again/extraordinary run of bad luck in Sydney.
Still, despite the back/knee/foot problems, the losing the job, the not finding work, not getting tax-back, being unhappy in my flat, yada yada yada, Sydney has definitely not been all bad. These last few weeks I have spent some wonderful days in its Museum of Contemporary Art and the New South Wales Art Gallery, learned about its history in the Maritime Museum, been to the Observatory, wandered the coastline between Bondi and Coogee, been on night out in the dubious gay/transvestite/backpacker/stripper/traveler scene of Kings Cross, drunk absinthe in seedy karaoke bars at 4.30 am, and spent numerous nights drinking cocktails with friends and frequenting the Opera Bar after work. I have also met up with some lovely people from back home. Emma - Sarah's best friend - and I enjoyed Australia Day together, eating Pancakes on the Rocks and getting stuck into the free entertainment around the Harbour. A friend from Nottingham, Duncan, also made a visit in which we got thoroughly soaked in the dreadful weather Sydney has had recently and, again, ate pancakes ( pancakes make me happy :-) !) I also got to see some colourful Chinese New Year celebrations in China Town with my friends from my dorm. So not all bad at all....
Nonetheless, I do have to admit that Sydney is not really my city. I have never really felt part of this city or managed to engage with it. The things for which I love it also make me hate it: the multiculturality gives it vibrance and energy yet precludes any unity or depth of culture; the sparsity of history, given that it is a young country, means it is and exciting blank canvas but also means there are no firm roots or culture. Sydney is very transient, very glitzy, very glamourous, but it can also be alientating and lonely. Although I have had some highs here, I have also had the lows. The cents I worked so hard to save to travel definitely have two sides, and just go to show that traveling is not always the 'time of your life', the glamourous 'living the dream' that many imagine. It *can* be - don't get me wrong - but it can also be just living, just a time in your life, living away from home, friends and family and dealing with whatever life chucks unexpectedly your way. I have learned a lot here, but I am sad to say I am not sorry to be leaving. In 2 hours time I will be boarding a bus to Byron Bay and commencing the next leg of my travels. I'll be heading up the East Coast to Cairns, jetting to Ayers Rock, then to Melbourne, before making a last day-stop in Sydney before my flight to Indonesia. Hopefully the next blog will be full of fun stories and happy tales. Surely a change in scene will bring about a change in luck, and what I've learned here about survival and keeping going can only help to make the next journeys more enlightening. It will be odd to leave the friends I have made here and to make the transition again from relative stability to unpredictability. But that's one of the reasons I love traveling, and one of the elements that makes traveling such a valuable experience. And with that note of profound wisdom (ha ha), I am going to hit the road again and become a 'traveler' once more. Wish me luck :-)
Much love,
Helen xxx
Apologies, yet again, for an exceedingly tardy blog entry. No excuses this time - I'm just lazy :-) I left you all in a tantalised and cliff-hanger-esque state, green with envy of the wonders of family holidaying and The Best New Year's Party In The World I was about to experience, poised with anticipation and waiting on my every word...well, maybe not...but I am very pleased to say that Christmas and New Year was every bit as good as I hoped and that it provides some worthy blog-fodder with which to start this entry. Finishing up work before Christmas with some boozy business bashes, Mum, Dad and Rachel were the first to break me out of my working-world and get me back into family living. Although it was obviously fabulous to see them all and get some hugs, I do have to say that the Cadbury's and Marmite they brought with them were almost of equal fabulousness. With Sarah arriving from New Zealand the following day, we then set off for our beautiful apartment by the river in North Sydney. The apartment itself was lovely - I got my own room (albeit the living room), and my own bed (albeit a sofa bed) - bliss! Most days we slept in (woken only by the screaming cries of the parakeets outside the window who sounded like distraught babies!), did some stuff, ate Nice, Proper, English Food, and finished off with wine and chocolate, which is always good. The holiday activities comprised of trips to various touristy places, interspersed with touristy activities and other such touristy things. We went to Taronga zoo and marvelled at the Tasmanian devil scurrying back and forth in its enclosure like a possessed yo-yo, visited the aquarium and were sorely disappointed that the touchy-feely pool wasn't open, meandered through Paddy's market, hopped on and off the monorail, perused the sights of Darling Harbour, learned the history of Sydney in the Sydney Museum...we also had the mandatory beach-days in beautiful Manly and found a gorgeous little secluded beach called Chinaman's Beach with a park right beside it and an ice-cream man (simple things...). One highlight was going to the Blue Mountains, a national park a couple of hours out of Sydney. Aside from the memorable journey there, in which I attempted to get behind the wheel of our hire car after 6 months off the road, there were some awesome sights there. The little villages up in the mountains were quaint and parochial, with great backdrops of mountains and jungle. The Blue Mountains actually do appear blue, due to the refraction of light through the oils released into the atmosphere by the jungle trees. We hiked to see some waterfalls, went on the world's steepest railway, and had us three sisters' photo taken with The Three Sisters (a rock formation of three upwards-jutting rocks) in the background. Nice. Other activities included mosying round The Rocks' market, seeing a spectular production of Billy Elliot, and Sarah, Rachel and I went to see a Jose Gonzalez gig. All rounded off with a few meals out (including at Nico's where I worked, ostensibly so I could take advantage of the staff discount!) and some present buying ( in which I successfully coerced my parents into buying me a beautiful opal necklace), the holiday events were definitely memorable.
And Christmas itself was also memorable. With everyone whole-heartedly agreeing with me that Christmas in Oz is just not 'right', we decided to try to do Christmas in English style. After the slightly odd festive offering from the Sydney Opera House, 'Chirstmas at the House' (where a rendition of 'Six White Boomers' [i.e. kangaroos] was a particular high point), and some rather disappointing 'carol' services in which all carols were belted out in the style of Mariah Carey's 'All I want for Christmas', we got our Christmas DVDs out, put traditional carols on the stereo, and settled down to a good roast. The fact that so many friends and family had sent cards and presents made the day more special, but just being with my own family made my Christmas perfect. The weather was not the 40 degrees we expected (but rather an overcast 20 degrees), the flat wasn't quite as cozy as home, but nonetheless the most important elements were there. New Year's was equally special, seeing us head for a neearby sighting point to have a picnic and watch the spectacular fireworks over the harbour bridge. From where we were we could see three sets of fireworks over the harbour, plus those in the city and Darling Harbour. Truly an experience which will stand out in my year of travels.
Sadly, though, after the festivities and activities (and one notably drunken cocktail party with the wonderful Marian and companions), the holiday had to end. I had to go back to work and resume my every-day Sydney life. And this is where the trials and torments, the long-awaited and ill-fated tales (as entitle this entry) begin....(cue drum roll and dramatic, suspense-fraught music). Although I tried to combat the homesickness by jumping straight back to work, my return to the restaurant was greeted less than kindly by my evil boss (the one who tried to fire me for being early), and was abruptly ended with me rather unfortunately doing my back in. Despite the heart-warming number of visits I got from gift-bearing friends while I was flat on my back for three days, injuring myself wasn't really the greatest of occurences, and was certainly not what I had in my plan. Nonetheless, after a few days rest I hopped back into the saddle and soldiered on back into the office. Not being able to work in the restaurant gave me a massive chunk of free time, mainly filled with tv watching and having meals with friends, but really didn't help my financial situation. I realised just after Christmas that I needed to get my head down and save in order to have the funds I wanted to start travelling again independently, but the back problem put the first damper on this. Then, as soon as I managed to find another restaurant job, I fell over at work, bashed my knee, and thus could not work - damper number two. And then, just to make life more interesting, my contract with Deloitte finished and I couldn't find any other office work. After many phone calls and pleas to agencies, I eventually decided that I needed to find some work - any work - to fill my time, and to stop me from frittering my money away on coffee and wine. Compounded with the fact that I had just found out I wasn't entitled to tax back, meaning I would have $1800 less than I thought to travel with, I was getting pretty desperate. Simultaneously I had grown tired of the tyrannical rules of my flat and had decided to move out ao as not to feel uncomfortable in my own living space, so I was jobless and homeless (ahhhh). This led me to moving back into City Central Backpackers - that paragon of cleanliness and luxury, where every oddball staying there and all the bugs in the kitchen give you pleasant company 24/7 - and getting into some work fundraising with a charity - Amesty International - for a basic salary, just to fill in the final days of Sydney. In actual fact the charity work turned out to be a very interesting and valuable experience. Working for Amnesty really highlighted to me how fortunate the western world is, the atrocities which occur in the world, and exactly how important it is that we take responsibility for it. Although face-to-face fundraising was emotionally and physically exhausting, having to remain unnarturally high all day in an attempt to convince people to sign up, it did hammer home that there are some amazing people out there. Of course, many of the people I encountered ignored me, one drunk man pushed me into a table, I was sworn at and laughed at, but many were genuine and kind-hearted individuals. Aside from my colleagues' admirable passion and enthusiasm for charity work, I met many individuals in the general public who really cared and were a joy to speak to. Nonetheless, not having the heart to admit that I had to leave to travel, I made an elaborate story up to excuse me from this job. It was made especially difficult as my colleagues were so positive and uplifting - and gave me some serious sympathy when my next disaster befell me....I got 10 mozzie bites on my foot, which I had an allergic reaction to, which then became infected, meaning I was put on hgh dose antibiotics, resulting in my very last night in Sydney being spent sober as the pope while all my friends merrily celebrated/commiserated in my start of traveling again/extraordinary run of bad luck in Sydney.
Still, despite the back/knee/foot problems, the losing the job, the not finding work, not getting tax-back, being unhappy in my flat, yada yada yada, Sydney has definitely not been all bad. These last few weeks I have spent some wonderful days in its Museum of Contemporary Art and the New South Wales Art Gallery, learned about its history in the Maritime Museum, been to the Observatory, wandered the coastline between Bondi and Coogee, been on night out in the dubious gay/transvestite/backpacker/stripper/traveler scene of Kings Cross, drunk absinthe in seedy karaoke bars at 4.30 am, and spent numerous nights drinking cocktails with friends and frequenting the Opera Bar after work. I have also met up with some lovely people from back home. Emma - Sarah's best friend - and I enjoyed Australia Day together, eating Pancakes on the Rocks and getting stuck into the free entertainment around the Harbour. A friend from Nottingham, Duncan, also made a visit in which we got thoroughly soaked in the dreadful weather Sydney has had recently and, again, ate pancakes ( pancakes make me happy :-) !) I also got to see some colourful Chinese New Year celebrations in China Town with my friends from my dorm. So not all bad at all....
Nonetheless, I do have to admit that Sydney is not really my city. I have never really felt part of this city or managed to engage with it. The things for which I love it also make me hate it: the multiculturality gives it vibrance and energy yet precludes any unity or depth of culture; the sparsity of history, given that it is a young country, means it is and exciting blank canvas but also means there are no firm roots or culture. Sydney is very transient, very glitzy, very glamourous, but it can also be alientating and lonely. Although I have had some highs here, I have also had the lows. The cents I worked so hard to save to travel definitely have two sides, and just go to show that traveling is not always the 'time of your life', the glamourous 'living the dream' that many imagine. It *can* be - don't get me wrong - but it can also be just living, just a time in your life, living away from home, friends and family and dealing with whatever life chucks unexpectedly your way. I have learned a lot here, but I am sad to say I am not sorry to be leaving. In 2 hours time I will be boarding a bus to Byron Bay and commencing the next leg of my travels. I'll be heading up the East Coast to Cairns, jetting to Ayers Rock, then to Melbourne, before making a last day-stop in Sydney before my flight to Indonesia. Hopefully the next blog will be full of fun stories and happy tales. Surely a change in scene will bring about a change in luck, and what I've learned here about survival and keeping going can only help to make the next journeys more enlightening. It will be odd to leave the friends I have made here and to make the transition again from relative stability to unpredictability. But that's one of the reasons I love traveling, and one of the elements that makes traveling such a valuable experience. And with that note of profound wisdom (ha ha), I am going to hit the road again and become a 'traveler' once more. Wish me luck :-)
Much love,
Helen xxx
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