After only four months on the road I was by no means ready to go home. Not at all. It was never in my plans to be setting foot on English soil so quickly and yet at the beginning of June I found myself being picked up at the airport by my parents and it felt as though I hadn’t been away at all.
But do not be fooled into thinking that I ended my round-the-world trip early. Hell, no. Would I do that to you, dear readers?
By a crazy turn of events in Hong Kong, when in a sudden fit of despair about our itinerary, Scott and I found ourselves searching for flights like crazy people, we happened upon a flight to Eastern Europe via Manchester. The price was right, and it seemed only fitting that Scott should meet my parents, along with me being able to visit my new baby niece, and so it was that we booked the flight.
Most people long for home whilst they are travelling. They get homesick and look forward to the day when they can settle back into the stability they once knew. For me, going home made me realise that I don’t want to stop travelling. At least not for now. It almost felt wrong to be back at my parents’ home and to be wandering around the town I had not long left. I already felt like a stranger in my own home city.
 |
But there was one thing about visiting England that I was excited about, and that was showing Scott a side of the country that he had never seen – my two favourite cities: Manchester and York. I was excited to see my country through a foreigner’s eyes, something which I had never done before. His excitement became my excitement as I showed him around the snickleways of York, introduced him to new foods he had never tried before and tried to cram every tourist attraction I could think of into a packed itinerary of only a couple of days. Next time I will be sure to rent a cottage in York for the weekend and take him to places further afield that I love – Castle Howard, Eden Camp and Riveaulx Abbey – but our short time there this year will have to suffice. I went, I saw, I remembered. And at the end of our (albeit fabulous) time in England, I was all too ready to strap on my backpack again.
 |
In some small way, going home confirmed a few things for me; things which I had been wondering about since the day I left. I had constantly pondered whether long term travel was really for me and whether I would be happier to be back in a working lifestyle, earning a regular income and hanging out in the same spots every week with family and friends. I questioned whether I had made the right choices. Going back, even though it was sooner than anticipated, gave me the answers I was looking for.
For now, at least, I want to keep seeing as much of the world as I can. If and when I decide that I want stability and my own office space again I will have to make the decision as to which part of the world that should be in. But one thing is definitely clear – I don’t and will never regret the decision to travel. Going home just reiterated to me that I had long outgrown my little corner of the earth I called home and was desperate for new challenges and new faces.
Long may my wanderlust continue.
Leave a Reply