Hey peoples,
Hope you all had a nice weekend. I certainly did and to those who helped me celebrate the big 26, thanks cos I had a great day 🙂
Here’s testament to the friends and good times of London–read the excerpt below.
Have a good week and who knows–maybe the rhythm of the sun will about face and come out on the weekend cos so far the weekly sunny outlook is dismal!
Nat x
Life goes on… A working holiday in the UK gives us just enough time to get far too comfortable. We soak up a new way of living, weekends become a blur, we make new friends, enjoy great parties, different work and carefree travel. But before you know it, you find yourself in an empty room drinking cheap wine straight from the bottle while you try to cram two years of life into a couple of tea cartons. It’s only when the rug gets pulled from under you that you remember the whole thing was only temporary. It’s the bittersweet finale we all face eventually. Going home isn’t easy when you don’t necessarily want to go. You may be headed back to the best country in the world, but it’s little consolation for everything you’ve left behind or the gut-wrenching reality that descends with your final long haul flight. The first tentative weeks are a novelty. Or rather, “you” are. Old friends mock your accent, Carlton Draught is back on tap and mum washes, dries and irons your laundry the same day you threw it out. Then suddenly life seems far too normal and you realise that, apart from the new McDonald’s drive thru restaurant and the death of your old next door neighbour, nothing much has really changed. It seems that while you spent the past two years carving it up at house parties, skipping across to the Continent and generally taking as little responsibility for life as possible, all your mates were getting married, taking out mortgages and buying golden retrievers. And just to twist the knife, they don’t particularly want to hear how good you had it.
That’ll leave you to contemplate a 500 pound overdraft you still can’t afford to have processed. But it’s not the end of the world. Chances are you could still get your old job back and, if you don’t want it, you have the freedom to shop around think about life and what exactly you plan to do with it. It’s easy to forget how good London can look on a resume. In the grand scheme of things, there aren’t many people who’ve done what you have–pulled the plug on life, headed to a new one on the other side of the world, claimed a legitimate job of your own and not had a mental breakdown in the process. You could turn up drunk to an interview and the employer will still think you’re responsible, motivated and independent. More importantly, though, coming home finally gives you an opportunity to relish all those things you missed most. Things like cruising down the coast with the window down and the stereo blaring with all the music you never got sick of three years ago. You can eat hot pies from the servo, order Chiko Rolls with the ends burnt and drink chocolate milkshakes that aren’t thick with preservatives; shop assistants actually assist and nobody heads down to the pub before 11pm. Meanwhile, the only person deemed worthy of conversation in Australia these days (apparently) is a bloke called Shannon Noll–a farmer turned popstar who’s been swooning the nation singing about his black car. Jebediah have a new album, Daniel Johns has done something different with Paul Mac and Andrew Denton is more popular than ever. If nothing else, there’s always Ray Martin–Channel Nine put him back at the helm of A Current Affair and the ratings have soared. Perhaps the strangest part about coming back is getting used to the little things you never gave much thought to in the first place.
Like watching the weather report and seeing a map of home instead of a cloud covered Blighty. Back here you top up electricity, not your phone and, while we’re at it, folks SMS each other–they don’t text. Coming home is certainly an experience. Everything’s different on the one hand and nothing’s changed on the other. But you’ll still like the place. For a little while, you’ll still log on to Yahoo.co.uk to get news updates and check Ryanair to see where you can fly for 1 pound, but eventually you’ll sink back into the way it was always going to be. It’s likely your local Kmart plaza will still be dominated by pregnant teenagers and politicians will still be rambling on about the Children Overboard affair. You’ll still miss the other side of the world, but you can frame the best bits and sit them next to the pictures of friends you made and left behind. Most of them will keep in touch.
The really good ones won’t have to.
(Author not known.)