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.