Loco

Last time I wrote I was grappling with the harsh reality of re-entering the modern world after a brief spell as a barefoot, pig farming wife in Tonga, and an ever shorter spell of being a hardcore, fish catching, shark wrestling sailor in Fiji.

But the delights of Big Bald Bob and his teeny tiny speedos, or limbo competitions and serious snorkel action in a tropical paradise are far behind me now, and I am once again well versed in the joys of safe tap water and double beds. Today I face the prospect of making the even harder transition from straight hair, high heels and cocktails, to bare feet, dorm rooms and carrying my evil monster backpack.

In short, I’ve been so busy being fabulous in Sydney that I have gone a bit soft. My wrists are free from beaded shell accessories, I don’t even own an anklet and frankly, my pedicured feet are just too damned pretty to go without some sort of silk slipper at the very least. But before we tackle that bad boy let’s take a look at what the bejesus I’ve been doing with myself for the last 9 months.

After suffering a sequence of small seizures due to things like shopping centres, dress codes, and rush hour traffic, I pulled myself together, like the proverbial drawstring on the duffel bag of life, and got involved in some serious city living.

I got a job, in a pub, and I worked really hard, but it was fun, and I accidentally don’t have much to show for it! That’s because I simultaneously rediscovered the pleasure of frivolous consumer living; skinny jeans, live music, clubs, pubs and delicious cheese from the deli counter. I went to the beach…a lot, and broke the world record for the most number of people floating on inflatable flip flops on Bondi beach.

Sydney was a blast, and that is why I accidentally lived there for 9 months. But lately I’ve been sort of thinking about contemplating maybe missing England a bit, it has been almost two years after all so I decided it was about time I got back on the road.

I have decided to undertake the last leg of my trip not by sea, but by land, and believe me this overland adventure is going to be a beauty! Although I normally like to (not) fly by the seat of pants this one requires a little more on the organisation front, especially since I will officially be going behind the iron curtain, into a world of scary scary vodka swilling Russians.

So I’ve been busy looking at maps and calendars and have devised an all-mighty plan that should see me home in early October for a great big party of monumental proportions with candy floss, and a big band, and a ticker tape parade, maybe even a lion tamer, you’re all invited…sweet! But before I get carried away with that I have to tackle the small challenge of getting all the way from Singapore to the UK, and once again get used to sweating profusely while lugging my backpack around unfamiliar cities and battling foreign transport systems.

Bring it on. Let’s go Loco again.

Images courtesy of Kate

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One response to “Going up over”

1. Borge says:
   June 19th, 2009 at 2:35 pm

   What a beautiful picture! Looks familiar as well Haha loved the post though – glad you finally got involved with the blog, can’t wait for the next sourcey one!