I was having a lot of issues with my camera by the end of the trip. My SD card was just deleting left, right and centre, my settings were playing up, and it was an all around mess. The photos below are just a handful of what my camera decided could live.
When I got back to London from Spain, I was on the count down back to Australia. I remember those final few weeks were just a battle of inner turmoil. Part of me wanting just for all of it to be over and to go back home. It had been 6 months without a familiar touch, and my heart was breaking. But the other half was slapping myself for not walking every single inch of London while I still had the chance. So I did what any logical person would do. I did everything. I saw shows on West End, I went shopping, I made friends and had meals at local pubs, I did a million walking tours, I got attacked by swans, I got rained on, I caught the tube, I did everything.
My final day in London is a blur. Somehow I managed to get 60KG worth of luggage onto two different tube services and a final train to Heathrow (with the help of a kind stranger -- my last London miracle).
I remember the stopover in Dubai. I met a man. His name was Michael. We were both trying to order food and I recognised his accent. He was Australia too. I asked if I could sit with him. He said yes and we talked all about our travels. He was living in Manchester, and I in Bath. During the sweaty 7 hour stop-over, we tried to get our seats upgraded for free. It didn't work, but it was fun trying, it killed time.
When the Dubai to Brisbane was called I almost burst into tears. I don't think I had ever been as happy in my entire life to get on a plane.
I was shaking when we landed back in Australia. Getting through Boarder Patrol / Customs was a breeze, it was waiting for my luggage to come that was the killer. I waited, and waited, and waited. Knowing that all that separated me from my dad and my sister was a wall. 6 months apart. 6 months without a hug. There was no more luggage floating around the carousel. I just wanted to collapse into the floor and never stand up again. Everyone else from my flight was gone and there was just me, standing, waiting for my bags. I started walking over towards the office counter to see what had happened. And there they were, hiding behind a pillar. Someone had already taken them off for me. I piled all three bags onto a trolley and headed for the exit, cursing the kind stranger for delaying me.
The second the doors strung open I felt the Australia heat that I had been missing. I desperately searched around for my dad, Maddy, anyone. There were so many faces, but none I recognised.
And then it saw them. Maddy running full speed in my direction with dad behind her. It was the best moment of my life. We all broke down crying in each others arms. My heart was so full, I couldn't contain it.
Ahhh, writing that, re-living that, woah. I think travelling alone for so long had a huge strain on my heart. Then coming back to Australia, my safety, the constant fears and loneliness I had suffered with, disappeared when I saw my family. It was in that moment I vowed to never travel alone again. Ever. And since then, I haven't.
The timing of this post couldn't have actually come at a better time. My partner and I just booked flights back to the UK.
However, I'm still planning blog-catchup -- next stop, Japan!
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