A Pitstop

This blog, much like New Zealand’s many volcanoes, has lain dormant for a while now. My attention was focused on the latter. For two weeks Kati, Sarah and I travelled around the north island: Auckland, Rotorua, Taupo, Napier, and Tauranga. When I get back from my next adventure I will write in more depth about the trip – but right now it’s 1am, I have a flight in six hours, and I’ll just say it was fantastic. I’ll leave you with some Ben Merito, a Maori musician perfect for a volcanic, sulphur-scented Rotorua roadtrip. But more about that next time.

It’s very strange to think that, had I not extended my stay, I’d be flying home in just five days. Most of the other internationals are gone already, leaving Yarra even quieter than it was when I arrived. I am not ready to return home. Returning to Melbourne from New Zealand was a homecoming, in a small (if rather cheesy) way. We sat on the balcony, the scene of so many jokes, chats, fights, and make-ups, and drank tea like we always do. And this morning I was back on my bike, warmed gently by the greenhouse breeze, and wishing the one month I have left here were six.

Yarra is almost empty now, but one thing I feel I have learnt this semester is how to be on my own. It’s introspective o’clock and my journey to Brisbane begins at 4am, so I apologise for being so self-indulgent. When I return to Yarra once again in five days, I’ll have a week almost to myself. And yet that’s just fine. It’s been, overall, a very calm semester, and it’s finished gently, not like in St Andrews when I’m left at a sudden loose end, scrambling to fill loose time, keep busy, do something, don’t crash. But the gradual conclusion of my time in Melbourne is met with a very firm idea of what matters. And my ideas for what to do next, once vague wishes, are actually, I’m recognising, real chances.

Quotes from travels. Quotes from my Aussie home. A Mischmasch. Who’s who?

“I can’t believe that when we first met you thought I was a die-hard Tory.” 

“Well, I’m sorry, but you said to me, and I quote: ‘I am a die-hard Tory.’”

In Australia it is customary, when one wins a prize, for all one’s friends to chant “YOU ARE A WANKER” ten times or more. Kati, however, didn't quite catch on. Through the bellowing, I heard her shriek: “WHERE IS THE WAITER?”

In our last hostel, after sniffing a well-worn jumper: “Ew. Wow, that smells.” After a pause: “Smells like I could get away with wearing it for a few more days, I mean.”

A less than fluent Spanish speaker attempted to compliment my cheeks, but ended up complimenting Kati and Sarah: “Me gustan tus chicas.”