Without a Home

Of late I have had this overwhelming feeling of being rootless; being without a base; a place to call home. And I have to say it’s not a comfortable feeling. Actually quite unsettling. Having now left my little Italian family and my home in Tuscany my whole being is yet again lost in the wonderful world of living out of a suitcase from one destination to the next.

In the weeks leading up to my farewells from Patrignone I had this ever present nagging need that I continued to ignore or face. And that is the need for a base or home here in Europe. With all of my being now feeling quite Europeanised, Australia has its clutches less and less around my heart. With little left to tie me with Australia, except family and friends the need to continue building a life here in Europe is becoming ever stronger. And for those Australians within the audience I can assure you I haven’t come to that conclusion lightly. Home is where the heart is...Right? But what if your affections are divided between two homes, thousands of miles apart? Welcome to my dilemma!

In recent weeks I have travelled from one wonderful destination to the next, From Italy to the French Riviera, to the French Alps, to Paris, to London, to Oxford, Bath, Devon, Worchester, back to London, Brighton, back to Devon and back to the French Riviera again. Yet the most definitive moment through all those amazing experiences was the moment I found myself leaving the hotel in London yet again having made connections with people who had changed my life for the better once again. As I left the hotel in London the concierge ironically said to me ‘have a safe journey home.’ Instantly I felt the blow of such a cruel statement at the very moment in my life when I was struggling with the lack of a home. It was taking all my energy to continue along my mission. Not one part of me wanted to be leaving London. I am so damn tired of moving, of being rootless, of not having a definitive idea of where home is that I almost collapsed on the floor in defeat as life enjoyed kicking the heels in! My energy for meeting new people and exploring new places is dwindling rapidly, and my instinctual need for a place to call home is growing ever stronger.

All I ask is for a place to rest my suitcase full of memories for a bit. A place to call my own. Where I can place all of my belongings, where I can have a pantry and fridge full of food, a cosy sofa, where I can organise my life, where I can have friends and neighbours and enjoy buying my fruit and veg from the local market each week. It’s not much to ask for is it? But let’s not despair; life has a way of sorting these kinds of problems out...Right? I hope so!

And it’s all in your best interests to encourage me along this path, because then of course you will all have a place to crash in Europe! A place to housesit when I decide to go off on another adventure! So my energies are now beginning to concentrate on making some valiant attempts to putting down some roots somewhere! It may not happen tomorrow, it may not happen next year...But I can assure you, I will make it happen! I will have my little apartment in a beautiful Italian or French picturesque port or century old little pad in a Tuscan hilltop Town someday soon!

Long Lost Family

Who knew I had so much family hidden away in little old Europe hey! In recent weeks I have met more family of the Parsons family tree branch variety than I would have every imagined. Here I was thinking my Great Uncle Reg and Great Auntie Margaret were living all the way in ye old England on their own when in reality they have more family surrounding them than they could reach down the street and poke a stick at!

My memories of Reg and Margaret Parsons (my English grandfathers’ brother) are of the hazy recollections of a child variety from when they visited down under some 15 years ago. So I was delighted to find that I had second and third cousins dotted all over the UK, and not one Great Aunt but two! As I found out my Grandfathers younger sister is also alive and kicking with her own children and grandchildren which I am still to meet.

I can’t tell you how nice it feels to know with a short plane flight I could be with family for Christmas and have family to help me understand my heritage even more. And that’s just the English side of my family tree. I’m a little scared to even ask about my Italian family tree branches which I know are lurking in Sicily!

'World Famous!'

We've all got the odd mate in London, friends in Geneva, people we could call on in the US, a couple of Frenchies I'd like to hang out with again, some Canadians who said I should come stay some time....
And you know what?...It sucks!

Some people might like the idea of having friends all over the world, and although I do enjoy it and embrace the opportunity to meet new people every day, a large part of me just wishes I could have my true friends right here, right now! I mean where are my friends I can call up on a whim and meet for drinks after work?

I don't want to know that I could go out for dinner with one of my friends for a few nights if I ever found myself in New York. I want to know that I could go to the pub with them right now! I don't want friends on the other side of the world, I want them on the other side of the street or at least in the same city!

There’s an endless list of positives to travelling, I am not denying those or even remotely dismissing them but obviously there are downsides to every positive and although lack of money, living out of a suitcase, constant moving, missing the special family events, the newborn cousins I haven’t met yet and lack of a home are all obvious negatives to my travelling lifestyle, the worst is definitely not having my true friends and family around me. The bestest of friends, the friends who really KNOW me, where I have come from and what I got up to in high school!

I get to meet all these amazing people, have incredible experiences together, form bonds with like minded people, spend time and energy getting to know them and then I have to bid them goodbye. I tell my story over and over again to these relative strangers in the hope of being able to form a connection and friendship which may last longer than the experience of the time but then the ride finishes and we go our separate ways and all I am left with is an endless list of friendships from times in my life instead of lifelong friends. And how am I left feeling....Alone!

The internet's obviously made it easier than ever to keep in touch with people you meet while travelling. All it takes is a couple of quick clicks, and few minutes of reading status updates, and you can tell what your friend from your 3 days in Cinque Terre is up to these days. The wonder of Skype has also made staying connected with friends and family free and easy as pie! So sure, we swap emails, look each other up on facebook, try to keep in touch....but we both know there's every chance we’ll never see each other again. And that sucks and is becoming incredibly tiring. Besides who wants to spend all their time in front of a computer screen on facebook or typing madly on stupid European keyboards just to stay in touch with ‘friends’. Am I not supposed to be TRAVELLING! And not just staring at a computer screen.

While it’s true that people are generally more open to meeting new people while travelling. The very act of getting from one place to the next, trying to decipher and speak a different language, or just the sheer act of living life in another country allows you to forge close friendships very quickly. But are they friendships worth holding onto for a lifetime? Unfortunately not always. Most of the time you find you actually have nothing in common and are from very different worlds which just aren’t compatible outside the travel destination.

Working within the tourism and hospitality industry also means I get to meet new people every day. Which is great because I get to spend time getting to know them while they get to know me. But then at the end of the week I have to say goodbye and start all over again with the next group. Sound tedious to you....well yeah it is! Very bitter sweet....Welcome to my life!

Have you ever thought about how many friends you make on a day to day basis? Can most of you say that you get to meet 2-3 new people a day where you spend time swapping stories, getting to know each other? And if so, how much energy do you think goes into forming a new friendship? I’m here to tell you, it’s a lot! I am tiring of having to constantly use my now finely tuned judgment in assessing whether it’s actually worth getting to know someone when I know it may not last beyond the week.

Some of you would have said that surely being gunned down by drug smugglers, poachers and pirates should rank fairly high on the list of negatives of travelling and of course they do but considering that these moments happen rarely in the travelling world and meeting and leaving new people happens millions of times a day by people all over the world, far more people are dealing with the hurt of loosing close connections every time the world calls you to a new destination, a new unknown and new people.

But let’s leave this on a positive note shall we. I have plenty of time to mull over my next farewell! Besides who am I to complain, I mean life is pretty good within the kimba chronicles right now. The Snow is falling on the French Alps again, I am gearing up for another 5 months of skiing, partying and working mayhem, I am in the midst of completing yachting courses with a new career move insight all while living on the French Riviera! I have had family and best friends come to visit me and by the end of the week I will yet again find myself back in London with 5 nights of freedom before I become a slave in my beloved kitchen again!

Maybe what keeps me going is actually the fact that having friends all over the world and being ‘world famous’ is actually quite cool and not something to be criticised. Although not having my best friend down the street does just kinda Suck!