Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Packing 6yrs of your life is like a greatest hits with 12 songs

Well here we are.

I had so many Australia blog posts to write - the Mite Tasting (comparing 6 types of Marmite); that time the Invasion Day protest crashed the official Australia Day parade and it was totally awesome; why Aus & NZ buildings are made appallingly, because they still cling to a pioneer mindset; and so on.

But time has rushed away with me. It takes me so long to write blog posts I always put it off, and even then, I'm still not quite sure anyone really reads my blog...

But punctuation points in life require them. I started this blog in 2008 before I left on my big 1yr adventure to NZ, and here I am, nearly 7 years later, with a different accent and a different outlook about to begin to last leg back to England.

Talking of legs, if you think packing to live in another country is hard, packing to come back is like chopping off entire parts of yourself. No you can't take that. No you can't that take. No, that thing you were working on can't be part of life any more. No, that pile called "Absolutely Necessary" will have to be half that size.

I am worried people in my own country will keep correcting my English.

I am terrified there will be no one single neighbourhood in London, unlike Wellington or Fitzroy, where I can feel safe wearing a skirt.

But first, I have some time in Thailand, and maybe Laos too. Going to Thailand under the military rule - with democracy suspended - feels weirder than when I went to Laos, where they are communist and don't even pretend to be a democracy. Despite being a privileged foreigner, I will be more careful than ever what I say. But Thailand is depressingly used to coups by now, and I'm sure normal life continues for the most part.

I wanted to write blog posts about Melbourne, and Australia, and how I've barely visited Australia and just been staying in the progressive liberal cosmopolitan island that is Melbourne.

I wanted to write about how Australia DOES have a racism problem. Australia has mostly gotten over its petty European racism - hate and fear of Greeks, Italians, Irish and Catholics - and replaced it with ignoracism of boat people and refugees, and all the time, an utterly despicable treatment of Aboriginals. Australia is in the shadow of shame and is many, many decades from being free of it.

I wanted to write about how wonderful Melbourne is, but also how wanky it is, and how it takes a cynical Brit to see both of these together.

I wanted to write about my amazing housemate and Wellington friend Theresa, who has made my 15 months so so awesome.

I wanted to write about all the cool people I've met and the new friends I've made and the things I've learned in 15 months.

But here I am at the airport, like so many other blog posts, ready to travel without moving.

Unlike other blog posts, I'm about to mix a mocha and a pinot noir and finally create the dirty drink of my dreams: the mochapinot.

Cheers Australia, it's been good.

Mmmm, not bad.

1 comment:

  1. I follow your blog (after a long while of only very sporadically). Love and luck to you good sir, and I will see you again for hugs and BS.
    Safe travels! Love you long time <3

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