71 days in, 71 days out.
The halfway point is already here.
Pretty crazy really, it feels longer than 71 days but also as if it’s all happened so quickly. In very, very few ways has this been anything like I expected it to be. For both good and bad. I’ve certainly got some epic stories to tell and I’ve had moments of unabated joy, and some where nothing sounded more appealing than jumping on a plane and heading home. I’ve been skydiving, scuba dived on the Great Barrier Reef, partied with some Swedish girls and a Scot whose been traveling his whole life, met two fellas named J Wiggy and Carl from an island of 300 people. I’ve slept in stranger’s houses, woken up across the entire city, been caught out in near hurricane force winds on the edge of a cliff, whitewater kayaking, rock climbing sheer faces, and sat on ledges high above the ground. I’ve learned to live on my own, how to shop at the Queen Victoria Market successfully, I’ve been to Sydney, taken spontaneous train rides to Newcastle, slept in parks, cars, on top of mountains, learned to drive on the other side of the road, driven the entire South Island of New Zealand, seen some of the most amazing and awe inspiring views on the planet. I’ve been to music festivals, rock concerts and more. Melbourne is natural to me now. I’ve done so much and I know there’s some already forgotten. I’ve yet so much to do and know that I won’t be able to do it all.
Life looks to be changing gears now, on more than one front. Not that I can give many specifics. It’s been a hell of a ride so far, cheers to the second half trumping the first.