Itchy Feet

Itchy Feet

It is a family tradition of ours that unless the smell of aviation fuel fills your nostrils then it isn’t a real holiday. I will be the first to admit that I have been very spoilt growing up with a father who embraced this custom wholeheartedly. We moved from Australia to Germany when I was a mere 2 years old and I don’t think my passport has rested since.

I have been to the comforts of countries such as France, England and Greece; slummed it around South East Asia and visited crazy out of the way places like Mircronesia (Guam anyone?).

I have fled to Italy for months on solo finding-myself-missions, met friends in Bali for yoga retreats, cruised the Mediterranean, eaten Haggis in 500 year old pubs in Scotland – the list goes on.

I am forever grateful for the experiences and wonderment that my travels have allowed me, but as a result of this, it has the crazy effect of leaving me with constantly itchy feet, and I am always (always) ready to pack my bag and head off on a new adventure.

As I get older, a small whisper of guilt visits occasionally that I have not settled into grown up life like my peers. I have no desire to settle down and live the Great Australian Dream. I haven’t bought the house; upgraded the car; renovated the bathroom or landscaped the backyard. This guilty feeling is always fleeting and when I dive deeper into what the alternative is to our current life it really has no allure.

So when we were in New York and my husband and I came to the realisation that yes, we certainly and unequivocally would want to live there that we didn’t hesitate to start planning. (Did I mention that I was ridiculously lucky enough to marry a man that shares my sense of itchy feet?). We welcomed the idea of a new adventure. A new place to explore together. A new place to call home.

Our plans have been a little delayed due to an unexpected job offer here in Australia but by no means has it changed them. It just means that we have longer to make them a reality. Longer to save some extra cash for the move and to ensure we have everything in place.

I can’t wait to be packing our bags again, passports at the ready. To be heading off together to our new home. To scratch my itchy feet once again.

On Being an Introvert

On Being an Introvert

Yoga

Yoga