TRAVELFor work, for family, for sport, for recreation... spend too long in the one place and I go a little stir crazy!
As I come to the end of a month in Bali – this beautiful island with just the right mix of spirituality, relaxation and entrepreneurship – I’m loathed to admit that I’ve spent nearly every morning of my stay lamenting at how I’m ‘wasting my precious time here’.
I’m sitting high on the hilltop, the sun warm on my face and the butterflies fluttering around my head as finger pitter patter on my laptop. It would be easy to romanticise my life – imagining that my newfound life as a digital nomad is epitomised by the beauty of this single moment. But like every generalisation there’s much more to it than meets the eye.
It’s a strange feeling. To fly away from your ‘home’, not knowing when you’ll return.
This afternoon I flew out of Canberra airport. My parents took the afternoon off work to take me to the airport and we enjoyed a relaxed cup of coffee and a lamington together before my flight had to leave. It was lovely. But it also made it hard to leave.
Once upon a time walking to the fridge was a mindless habit. I wouldn’t even notice I was doing it until I felt the cold air from the refridgerator hit my face. And then I would be jolted into reality unsure of how I had even got here.
Recently my mindless habit has been Facebook. I would find myself staring into the Facebook app on my phone at the weirdess and most inappropriate times…. 6am in the morning, half way through a run – or worse! – halfway through a conversation with a real human being.
I decided it was time for a break.
This afternoon I had my first ever surf lesson. I had come to Costa Rica with the intention to at least give surfing a go. But the very thought of it scared me silly, and so I procrastinated over it as long as I could.
So I know what you are thinking… I am Australian! Surely I know how to surf.
Nope. It may surprise you to know that I’m not that keen on the ocean, let alone the surf. The heat. The sunburn. The relentless pounding of waves. The power of the water. The ‘getting dunked’. The fear of getting dragged out into that big bad ocean.
This Christmas I am doing what most of my friends are doing. . . fleeing London in search of friends and family. Except that unlike most of my friends, I won't be taking a train or a plane. On the 17th December 2015, I will embark on the longest run of my life - as I...