Sunday, August 30th
Dear not even remotely Australian friend, no really, stop saying “we Aussies” no one’s buying it,
First, let me just say.
I told you so.
Paris is a beautiful town and you were clearly missing out by focusing on its smell, really. But then Bordeaux is an amazing town and I completely missed that one as well. I think I want to add something to your “how to fit in a new life” tutorial: sometimes, it won’t work. Sometimes, there’s just something and it might be the town and it might be the people and it very simply might be you, but it happens and it’s no use getting yourself down bec ause of it. Just do your best and move on.
Which is what I’m doing now.
As in, moving. Quite literally as I’m writing as we’re driving to Calais, where we’ll be taking the shuttle to Dover, and then driving to a small town called Cambridge.
Heard of it?
It’s pretty.
Looking back, I think you could say this was all very predictable: you can’t spend 6 months moaning about missing the UK and then move there and expect people to be surprised. But of course, it was nowhere near that simple in the making. From looking for a Ph.D., to giving it all up and planning to go horse-riding in Canada, to receiving and accepting a job offer in Cambridge, and finally cancelling my plane tickets (much more simple than I would have imagined, thank you very nice – who’s surprised really – Canadian guy) to Vancouver. I guess the lesson there is, nothing’s ever set in stone. If you need things to change, well they can, and they will. And it’s never too late. Kind of gives you faith in life turning out not too bad, right? Or quite the contrary, if you’re the pessimistic kind.
Which I’m not.
No, really.
Can you see me trying really hard to squeeze out some blog-worthy life advice out of this mess? Because I am. We created this as an intent to combine both our writing urges – you adjusting back to life in France after a year in Australia and me flying off to Canada and, uh, petting alpacas – but now my side has turned into a whole different adventure, still exciting but much less exotic. I still have no idea what my input on the long term will be. I could try and make a lenghty post on how I built my home abroad a year ago, as you did, but the truth is, I didn’t really do much, did I. Unless drinking beer counts.
…Who am I kidding, of course it does.
What’s left now for me to do (once I find a room, buy a bike and sleep for 3 weeks) is to go on about my life, and to ask myself regularly: am I happy here? What do I want to do next? Is there an afterlife? Why is the sky blue? etc. I’m used to having the answers to these questions figured out (alright maybe not the afterlife one), so this will be an interesting change.
Love, puppies, and philosophical nightly debates,
Lulu
"We're not done baking" 