We’ve well and truly wound up down here in Sydney, the six-week trip tying itself up with a nice little bow. The last two weeks have dissolved into the one day we have left to go, and I’ve already mentally jumped ahead to what needs to be done once we land back in Germany. Six weeks is a long time to be away, long enough to feel like you’ve started living somewhere else, for the tiniest of initial roots to push themselves into the ground. We need to yank them back up and get on a plane, Germany – the other home – is waiting.
It’s a good feeling to miss a place, even when you love the one you’re currently in, to feel the pull back towards a well worn routine and familiarity of home life. It means you’re where you should be.
Even though six weeks is a long time, in a country as big as Australia, it’s almost the minimum time you can spend here and see enough (once you block out the first week to get over the jetlag). We didn’t even leave the east coast, save for a week in New Zealand where our family gathered for my cousin’s wedding, spending our time catching up with family and friends in Sydney and Melbourne, and a few days up on NSW’s north coast. And we ended up with just one free day with nothing planned.
So it is we’ve started packing up for the trip home, the both of us filled up with Australianness and precious time spent in fortunate abundance with friends and family. We’ve eaten sushi every second day, and Thai curry after Indian curry after Malay curry. We’ve seen movies in their original versions, catching up on as many of the nominated ones as we could. We watched a rugby game, the Australian Open, played with kangaroos, spotted koalas, swam, absorbed the Australian sun, ate good Aussie fish and BBQs, road tripped, and drank as much wonderful coffee as we could, before heading back to the land of filter coffee. We visited the Hobbits, took in the sun on Waiheke Island, and spent Waitangi Day in New Zealand’s capital, Wellington. I’ve had to purchase extra luggage to get things that have been waiting for me here, like old loved books, home to Germany. We are, and have been, so lucky. And it’s ‘lucky’ how I’ve decided to see this ongoing split between two homes, because the passport I have and the country I live in are both wonderful places, that afford us as people and our relationship so much, and to to-and-fro between them is a privilege.
A new German chapter is agitating to begin, and within its pages, already pencilled in, plenty of adventures. It’s time now to leave home and go back home to get started on it all.
All sorts of things await.