A few weeks ago we passed the 6 month anniversary of returning home to Melbourne. It was a bittersweet moment. Bitter in that it was a Wednesday and we therefore had to drag ourselves up out of bed and go to work….sweet in that the weekend before we’d been partying at Golden Plains music festival and were very happy to be back in this lovely city, surrounded by so many wonderful people.
Someone we met along the road theorised that it took the same amount of time to come down from post-holiday blues as the length of the holiday itself. I truly hope this is not the case, but I have to confess that there are many days when I gaze wistfully out the window and dream about exploring twisting Chinese laneways, swinging in a hammock on a south-east Asian island, or even bouncing along a rutted track in a chicken bus with salsa music blaring out from tinny speakers above my head.
Probably the strangest thing about coming home is that the two and a half years spent doing an incredible number of fascinating, diverse, insane and often bizarre things feels condensed, surreal and like it happened to another person and in another time. I find myself flicking through photos in an attempt to make it all seem a bit more real, and to remember the little moments that made the trip so amazing. I try to dredge up the feeling of walking across the border into a new country and those first confused moments as you have to come to terms with a new language, new currency and completely new set of social norms. Even though you develop routines when you’re traveling, they are never so entrenched as the ones you live daily at home.
Working for Latin American tour operator means I get to spend more time than most legitimately dreaming about travel (and getting paid for it)…but living vicariously through other people’s travel plans doesn’t come close to being there yourself!!
On the other hand, we now have a cat of our own to play with. And after years of petting strays of questionable cleanliness that’s a welcome change!!