So if you've come to this page, I figure you want to hear a little bit about me. So let me start from the beginning...
I wasn't always destined to roam. I suffered with severe anxiety when I was a child and was was terrified to spend one night at a friends house down the street, let alone form any sense of adventure. The thought of doing something out of my comfort zone sent me into an emotional spiral and I could hardly function. Airports and flights made me physically sick and I spent most of my trips as a child trying my hardest to be brave, eyes full of fear, white hands clasped so tight around my parents.
If it wasn’t for my father doing a lot of business travel, I don't think I would have developed a yearning to see the world. Watching him come and go from all his adventures started something in me. I would stare in awe as he walked through those big blue doors at Perth international airport in the 90s, jumping onto that big plane and flying into the night to some big city. Every night he was away, i’d imagine him in his big hotel building, high up in the sky, looking out at all the lights of Tokyo, or Istanbul, or Rome, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Los Angeles.... He’d come home from his trip with stories of midnight karaoke sessions with Japanese business man, long meetings in the Turkish countryside, getting pizza in his jocks in Naples because his suitcases were lost. And the gifts he brought home - oh my gosh. Little trinkets and snippets of the culture he’d experienced and the places he’d been… chinese tea cups, Turkish spoons, Japanese artwork.
Experiencing these things second hand really fueled a desire in me. I KNEW I was missing out and i KNEW i needed to see so much more of this world.
Luckily, as I grew up, I learnt to identify and deal with my anxiety… and one day I had the stark realisation that I was this tiny little dot, in this tiny little suburb, in this tiny little city, and there was so much more to the world. I just couldn’t NOT see it anymore.
So I took the plunge. A few months of saving my measly 18 year old wage, and my best friend and I were off on an early morning Air Asia flight, landing 5 hours later in Kuala Lumpur. My first city outside of Australia and New Zealand. I will never forget walking outside the old low cost KL terminal; the lights, sounds, smells (haha) hit me SO hard. But this time, I didn't die with fear. I died with excitement… with wonder, with awe. I will never forget that feeling. I get it everytime we land somewhere new now. It’s one of my favourite parts of travel.
So here I am. 12 years and 14 trips to KL later (it’s definitely our weekend getaway spot haha), and I roam. I roam as often as I can, as far as I can, and as open minded as I can. And, most of the time (those stories are for another day), as fearless as I can.
BUT, I want to be clear. Travel is a HUGE part of my life. But it’s NOT my life. I work really bloody hard to juggle seeing the world without sacrificing my home life. I want a wholesome, loving marriage, a rewarding, successful career. I want to come home to a beautiful home I am proud of, to my gorgeous noisy Staffy puppy. I want to cook the Omani inspired dinner for my husband while drinking a bottle of wine we’ve brought back from Jordan, using the chopsticks we bought in a back alley of Hong Kong, while he sits at the breakfast bar watching youtube videos of Moscow, researching flights for our next long weekend. And then I want to go to work in the morning, feel challenged, learn about myself and my clients and my colleagues, then come home and do it all again. It’s hard to have it all, but I want to have as much of it as I can.
So that is the life I live for. I’m happiest when I roam, and I'm happiest when I'm home.
I want to cook the Omani inspired dinner for my husband while drinking a bottle of wine we’ve brought back from Jordan, using the chopsticks we bought in a back alley of Hong Kong, while he sits at the breakfast bar watching youtube videos of Moscow, researching flights for our next long weekend.