This holiday life…

Wow. Well, traveling for three weeks whilst couch hopping with a toddler in tow… is… exhausting! We are home now. Well, not home, but back in the city. Melbourne was amazing. It’s such a fabulous city. Such a magical place steeped in culture and amazing people doing inspiring awesome things that make my once-creative soul cry out for attention.

A sat at dinner and listened to the tales of my old comrades from Drama School days. From the days where we spent 12 hours a day in an exclusive class where we learned how to breathe, we pretended to be trees and we stressed, endlessly about our progress. We also drank copious amounts of alcohol. Funny that. I sat, a different person, and listened to their stories. Listened to stories about artist lives and real world jobs and failures and successes and inspirational projects and so many stories of coming so-close-but-not-quite-there-yet… We shared food and stories and talked a little about the past but more about the future. We laughed and sipped wine and then we went our separate ways.

We went to breakfast with a friend, a favourite friend, who I’ve known since we were children and she lived up the road from me. Our paths cross endlessly throughout our lives, and here she was, once more, taking my little Bo to see cows and sheep at a city farm and eating fair trade organic pay-what-you-like food at one of my all time favourite eating spots. What a treat.

Bo and I walked the streets of the city, early in the morning, as china town began to open and people in suits rushed around looking important. Doing important things. I walked past bars and hidden party places that i used to frequent regularly. Streets and alley ways where I met amazing people and had incredible nights and drank out of science beakers and test tubes in themed beer gardens, in ice rooms, in fake-grassed 50s themed establishments. Places where I lost jackets and cameras and sometimes a little self-respect (though only in the best way possible). Places that I crawled home from, high heels hooked over my finger, bare feet stained from the dirty city streets. Alleyways I stumbled around in, sat on the verge in and had endless deep-and-meaningful-conversations in with people I never saw again. Alleyways were I loved and lived and played and made out with strangers as an early twenty something. These places that are so hip and so exclusive at night, are nothing but a smelly corridor and a graffiti covered door during the day. We walked past my favourites and I reminisced in the morning light.

The alleyways of a former life. It was fun and surreal and bittersweet.

Everything always looks different in daylight, doesn’t it?

Bo and I met with friends in parks and sipped smoothies and played on swings and felt the grass between our toes. We went down the coast and played with new friends that felt like old friends that I had known since the beginning of time. We snuggled new babies and kissed old friends and curled up into balls in the late of night and watched trashy TV when we couldn’t sleep because of a sneaky cold that crept up on us (Bo, it crept up on Bo, I totally would have LOVED to sleep…)

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There was so much goodness in Melbourne so much so I’m overloaded with stories and photos that I can’t possibly fit into this post without it taking hours to read… Amazing new-favourite cafe’s, excellent company, beautiful days and lots of laughter and light and respect from some pretty awe-inspiring women who I am so very lucky to call my friends. It was like being amongst family. So much so I was reminded why I loved to live there so many years before. And I have been very tempted to return. I’m working on it. Thinking about it. Maybe… just maybe… sometime in the next year we will return there. To live. We’ll see what life has planned for us.

Coming home is always bittersweet. It’s lovely to be back with our wheels (however crappy they may be) and our own space (thanks to my sister who is off gallivanting through Europe and has kindly left us her house in the city to “sit” for her), but I can’t help but feel a little at a loss too. The holiday was LONG and SHORT all at once. Rushed meetings with friends. Never long enough to chat or inspire or float ideas around… but three weeks is far too long alone with a toddler to be couch hopping around the place. Bo’s sleeping went from very average to un-believably ridiculous. Good thing she’s so cute really.

I’ve been writing a bit for Kidspot of late… you can rad some of the articles here, here and here if you’re into that kind of thing.

It’s Easter this weekend, so for those of you who do celebrate I hope it brings you lots of peace and wonderful celebration with your family and all that. For those of us who don’t celebrate, I hope you also have lots of peace and wonderful family time too.

Happy weekend friends. xox

 

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