Here I am, another airport. I’ve lost count of how many airports I’ve been to. In truth, I never really started counting in the first place. This journey is a long one though. Thirty three hours from takeoff to touchdown with a fifteen hour wait in the UAE. And I left ‘home’ five and a half hours ago. Wherever home is.
I am heading to Australia, Perth to be precise, and I feel – like I often feel – a torrent of mixed emotions. I feel uncertainty at going to yet another new place with no plan at the age of twenty seven – I have a one way ticket and a one way visa – and in direct contrast with the uncertainty, I feel excitement at going to a new place with no plan. Life is an adventure after all.
For the past few years, I have moved around quite a lot. Sometimes people descibe me as a traveller. I am not a traveller by choice – I do not travel to places for the sake of travelling. Travel seems to be an incidental outcome of how I choose to live my life. I went to London two days ago because I had someone to meet and a plan to make. I was in America recently because I had some very important people to meet for the very first time – I think it went well. I went to Iceland last summer because I wanted to walk. Every place I go to now, I go to for a reason – as opposed to going to a place for the sake of going.
Why am I going to Australia? To work, to live, to have a place of my own where I can further write and create. Do I have a great desire to go to Perth? No. It is the best place for me to go at this time. It is incidental.
So here goes: another flight, another new home, no plans, and one hell of a lot of kangaroos. I do not look forward to the spiders.