The Real World and the Paranormal
Well, I’ve been absent from these boards for quite a while. I finished working for the Disney Cruise Line a few months ago and Internet access on the high seas isn’t that good. Still, I’m back in good ole Blighty now, have been for four months.
I hate coming back after travelling. It’s great at first, you catch up with your family and friends, have a bath that leaves a black ring round the top and say hello to your cat. But after a while, the whole thing seems kind of flat and lifeless and devoid of colour. I always find myself feeling a little out of it, like I’m one step behind or in front of everyone else.
My mum is getting married in September of this year and as bridesmaid, I kind of have to be there for it. Therefore, I need to stick around to at least September. Unable to reconcile myself to still living at home at 23 when I have no reason to (ie. not saving for travel), I moved out.
My sister has always made very un-subtle digs about how I don’t live in the real world. I don’t understand why the real world is considered work, mortgage, kids and debts but it is. If that’s the “Real World” then what is camping in the African bush or digging your own dunny in the outback, fake? Still, I moved out and got myself my own place and rent and bills and, yes, debt. After about a week, the novelty wore off and I became really depressed. I couldn’t believe life was “get up, catch the bus, go to work, eat chips, go to bed”. That was it? There wasn’t anything else to it? Without travel, what was my goal in life, what did I have to look forward to? I found myself spending lots of time looking at my photos or re-reading my travel journals or staring at my map of the world. I honestly believe that life without travel for me, isn’t really life. It’s stagnation and I felt unable to cope with the apathy I was feeling.
One night, I was pacing my room, talking aloud to myself (sometimes that helps). I was crying and feeling like my life had hit a dead end. I picked up a photo of my Grandparents, both have been dead for a long time now and I asked them, “what do I do? How can I cope without travel? What’s the purpose of my life? Now I have rent to pay, I can’t save and therefore I’m grounded.” I asked them for a sign. Some sign that everything would be okay, that somehow my life wasn’t over and I may be able to travel again. I didn’t realise I was holding my breath until about 30 seconds had passed and I’d recieved no “sign”. I put the picture back and went to the mirror, wiping my eyes. Then I resumed my pacing. As I got to the end of my bed, there was a loud noise. Nan and Grandad’s photo had fallen down and AT THE SAME TIME, my map of the world fell off the wall and landed at my feet. I felt like they were telling me, “the world is at your feet”, literally. I know it sounds like a coincidence but I have loads of things stuck on my wall in my room. I have a map of the states, a giant picture of Johnny Depp, a calendar with foxes on it, numerous photos yet the one thing that fell down was my map of the world? I’m not a big believer in ghosts or paranormal activity but I felt that it was a sign. Excited, I rang my mum. In hindsight, this was a bad idea. Ringing your mum in tears at 1am saying your dead relatives had pulled your pictures off the wall is not a very reassuring sign of your stability. Mum totally wouldn’t believe it was anything but coincidence but I think it was something more. At the very least, it gives me comfort to think that.
The next day, I got a phonecall from my best friend, Louise. She told me she was planning a trek of Australia with her boyfriend, Paul and sister, Kate. Then she invited me along. I was over the moon but I realised my rent situation wouldn’t allow me to save what I needed. Later that day, my housemate, Estee, asked me if she could take over my lease (I have the bigger room) so she can move her boyfriend into her smaller room. Things seemed to slot together. I don’t believe all that was a coincidence.
So, that’s where I am right now. I’m still paying rent as I’m still living in Margate but by the end of the month, I’ll be moving back to mum’s in Herne Bay. It should enable me to put aside £500 per month so I can go to Oz with Lou. She’s planning a three week trek with Let’s Trek Australia (a company we’ve used before and highly recommend). After that, she’ll fly home and I’ll spend a year in Oz on a Working Holiday Visa! Yay!
I intend to keep this blog up to date so I know where I am and what I’m packing and how I’m saving. I might consider fundraising again but it’ll be alot harder to get people to pay for something that benefits no charities. Still, it’ll be interesting to say the least and it’s a good start to the year.
I’ll let you know how everything goes, until then, look out for dead relatives with redecorating fetishes!