27th October,
2013 – “The beginning”
Soundtrack: David Housden – Thomas Was Alone
Time since last sleep: 24+ hours
For 412 days, the timer had been ticking down. So, by that
rationale, we should all be ready to take on the great adventure that we’d all been
dreaming of for years.
I can’t speak for anyone else, but my guess is that I’ve wanted to
travel around Australia for at least 10 years. The memory isn’t all too clear,
but I remember my dad once proclaiming how fantastic it looked there. The skies
were always blue, the sands always golden, the patter always flowing,
412 days. I’d had an app installed on my phone, you see (Countdown
Widget, I believe is the app for anyone interested) and at a turning point in
my life, it occurred to me that maybe it was now or never. For some reason we
chose the 27th October, 2013. It worked out well around several
birthdays amongst other back-home events, though not so well around others. But
that’s the thing about timing. It’s never going to be perfect.
“It’s 7 weeks until Christmas, shouldn’t we wait until then and head
out after the New Year?”
“Oh but it’s my best friends birthday in February…and then it would
nice to spend Easter with my family…”
The timing was shit, but the timing was always going to be shit
whether it was the 27th of October or the 32nd of Julember.
We swallowed any regrets and settled on the 27th October. It’s got a
nice ring to it, though I don’t know if this is an acquired ring from months of
mental preparation.
Somewhere between days 300 and 250, we got our VISA’s. A Working
Holiday VISA, as none of us had the funds for all play and no work. This entitles
you to roam Australia as you please for up to 1 year. You can work casual jobs
for up to 6 months, and there are a few ways to extend it to 2 years, but let’s
not get into that right now.
With 212 days to go, we bought our flight tickets, followed by
several shots of Bar Tingle’s infamous “Mad Scientist” to seal the deal.
At around 200 I got my RSA license, which allows you to serve alcohol
in Australia (and subsequently work in bars and restaurants; a fair possibility
in the coming months.)
By 100 I’d written up numerous “to-do” lists and done most of the
to-do’s with 50 days to spare. Our accommodation was booked; Pirates Backpackers
Hostel in the town of Fremantle, WA, known by everyone (and ergo from here-on
referred to) as “Freo,”.
Time ticked on by. As it did so it didn’t seem to be going anywhere,
but occasionally I’d realize that several weeks had passed before I’d last
really thought about it. A unique blend of fear was beginning to mingle with a
strong dose of inexplicable excitement. Let’s not forget that hearty splash of
sadness. Oh, and the squeeze of euphoria.
With 10 days left, I flipped the lid on my laptop down, having
finished work in the UK for what I expect to be a minimum of 8 months.
With 6 days to spare I’d eaten my last meals with my family, to whom
I owe so much for their support at such an important stage in my life.
With 3 days to spare, my car was sold (yep, it’s paying for my
trip), my bags were packed (well, ready to be packed) and my mind was set. Kind
of.
With 3 hours until boarding, I kissed goodbye the love of my life;
Jessica; and held her tightly for what was possibly a very long time, but by no
means long enough.
1 hour before the start of our journey, we said goodbye to the
troops. There were a lot of troops, and it was an amazing send off from a bunch
of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. Hopefully you guys had a good night in
The Killoch. There were rather a large amount of goodbyes said. Photographs
too, in proper paparazzi stylee. I was the first to pass through the barrier,
followed by Megan Devlin, Blair Mackie, Jillian Todd and Emma Prytz (not
strictly in this order [in fact, almost definitely not in this order, but my
memory is already hazy from a distinct lack of sleep]. For the record, the next
child to scream across several continents [or on any flight I am on from here
on in, ever] is getting their throat slit).
Each person’s eyes (mine included) told the same story. Silent
recognition of this was present from all parties (though a few hugs were exchanged
where required). Saying goodbye to the people you cherish the most will never
be easy. Seldom comes a day where
goodbye’s of such magnitude occur.
Dazed and confused, we followed the signs to gate 30; a quick gander
at the duty-free (Captain Morgan’s are making a Kraken-style rum now…who knew?)
and my last piss in the UK (long, clear and satisfying [my apologies but I feel
it necessary to lighten the tone now before the end of this post]) were
included in the journey. This small part of the journey was short and quite
unmemorable (though I do rather enjoy those conveyor belt/escalator things that
make you walk really fast) and now, before we knew what had hit us, we were in
the air. It had sunk in to some more than others. To me it had hardly sunk in
at all. But the reality doesn’t change. In a matter of hours (okay, seemingly
an infinite number of hours [did I mention I hate screaming children?]) we
would be touching down in Freo to commence the big adventure I’d dreamt of for
a decade.
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