Made my way north to 1770 this weekend, otherwise known as the Birthplace of Queensland. Australia is massive. My little adventures are a drop in the bucket in the geography of this mammoth country.
I met Carl, a retired photographer/videographer/surfer turned Air BNB host, who lives in a house made of corrugated iron siding with his Border Collie, Bindi. I met Daniel, a German who has lived and travelled for the better part of eighteen years. He came to Australia from South America, by sea. It took five months. He’s still here, working as a dive guide.
I’ve been in Brisbane nearly four years, enough to have a good understanding of this town and a thorough lay of the land. I have a rich community of friends, a fulfilling musical circle, and a job that I love. When I look at it, it’s almost shocking at what an amazing little niche I’ve been lucky enough to be able to carve out, because things are pretty great.
Still, I know the journey doesn’t end here. Meeting these types of wayfaring souls always stirs something in me, even though I know full well that my scheduled existence does not always do well with unlimited time and flexibility.
I remember being a student in New Zealand, and realising that backpacking and travelling, for many, was a way of life. It blew my mind that people could afford this, that they could sustain it, that they could live this nomadic lifestyle and be fulfilled and happy.
Once you see that freedom as a lifestyle option though, I don’t think it leaves you. I haven’t been able to shake it in the years that have followed.
I know Brisbane is right for me for the near future. There’s been too much change and upheaval in the last while, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. But what comes later? Where to?
I’m curious to see what adventure will come next.