I feel like I'm trapped in that song by the clash. But whereas when they asked 'Should I stay or should I go?' they were talking about a relationship, and I am talking about a country.
The decision to come out to Australia was not taken lightly. And most of last year was spent waiting, waiting for the 11th January when I would I would fly off into the great unknown.
And when you take that plunge, into the great unknown, the great unknown quite quickly becomes something quite familiar. And you realise, its actually pretty easy to go to the other side of the world. You may be in a different place, but you're still the same person. The same person, but better.
Your eyes become opened to a whole new place, new people, new mindset. Years spent floating around in a pleasant bubble, in the same town, with the same people. Safe, comfortable, but so very boring. And all of a sudden it's all new. That stagnation, that predictability, is gone.
And you meet people. Some of the most amazing people you could ever meet. And because you're on your own, out of your comfort zone, you make the effort. And it becomes so very easy. In a couple of months you have a more intense relationship than you had back home with people you'd known for years. But then, you move on. Such is the nature of travel. And those friends you made in that place, in that moment, become strangers again. And then you find yourself in a new place, with new people, and you do it all over again.
The past year, I have just been floating around. It's like putting a blindfold on and putting your finger on a map, and going there. And once you go there that brand new, unfamiliar territory, becomes familiar. And then you move on somewhere else. I've seen the lights of Sydney, I've experienced being stuck in the outback, I've been to some of the most beautiful places on earth, such as Broome. And then I arrived in Darwin.
Arriving in Darwin, something just clicked with me. I fell in love with the place. I remember exploring the small city centre a few nights after I arrived. The luminous city lights shone against the backdrop of the balmy, tropical evening. And I heard music, beautiful music. I followed the music and arrived in a park.
The trees were filled with lights and lanterns, oranges, reds and indigos against the leaves and the starry sky. There was a tent in the middle where a female vocalist was singing, and people were lying on the grass. Some smoking, some drinking champagne, some just closing their eyes and taking in the energy. I closed my eyes, lay on the grass, let the music and the heat wash over me and I thought, "This is it. This is the place I want to live"
Everything conspired in the first few months to prove my initial reaction. The sunsets, the indigo ocean, the luscious plants, the exotic animals.
The Thursday beach markets were out of this world. Hundreds of stalls selling exotic jewellery, aboriginal artwork, candles, insence, tarot. Lots of food stalls sending the smell of Asia out into the still night air. Digeridoo music floating up to the star filled sky, and me, lying on the beach watching the ocean. Thinking I could sit there forever.
And the job! What a job. Teaching beautiful, well mannered kids, the timor sea your backdrop through the wide open windows.
Then the bike accident.
Hours spent inside. Sitting in hospital wards. Sleeping most of the day. Not able to work. Not able to do anything but think.
Then 'home' loomed in my thoughts. My family, my friends, all the things I left behind ten months ago. Darwin was too hot, too sticky. The heat was oppressive. The slightest task became a monumental event. I needed to take a couple of hours to psych myself up before having a shower, because of the effort it now involved. What was I doing in this isolated place on the other side of the world anyway?
Part of me wants to settle down, wants to get a full time job, wants to be in a position where I can embark upon a relationship in the knowledge that I'm not going to be moving on somewhere else in a few months
But Darwin still has its grip on me. Last night, for example, I went to the deckchair cinema. Outdoors, under the stars, surrounded by trees. The ocean to the left. Distant lights of ships hovering. The beautiful balmy night air. The smell of the plants
I don't want to go.
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