Today, I have been in Tasmania for seven weeks. Seven short, surreal weeks. Tomorrow I will leave. My vocabulary lacks the adjectives to do justice to my time spent in the South West Wilderness and I am reluctant to write too much about it for there is so much that would need to be experienced to be understood. I have just re-read an old blog that I wrote whilst at the chalet but never posted, for the same reason just mentioned. I simply cannot put it into words. Unfortunately, this does not make for an interesting blog, so for your sake I will try to offer you a vague insight.
In the past month I have found myself; found friends for life; challenged and surprised myself; discovered; explored; loved and left behind. I have found pleasure in simply living; in being; in waking up in the most beautiful place on earth, breathing in my surroundings and feeling at peace with myself (despite getting somewhat noticeably fatter), others and the world.
In my unpublished blog, written a week after my arrival, I wrote of never having felt so at home so quickly in a new place and with new people. I have laughed more in the last month than possibly ever before and still cannot help but smile each time a memory comes to mind, despite missing all of my accomplices terribly. Never before have I felt so entirely at ease; so completely uninhibited; so loved and appreciated; so free and so happy.
I have enjoyed amazing company; amazing walks; amazing views; had the pleasure of conversing with many interesting people from all walks of life (as well as the predictable “Can I take your room number sir, so I can put this onto your account?” “Can I take YOUR room number?” nightly exchange with almost every bikee passing through, each of whom, of course, thought they’d invented the joke), who have taken a genuine interest; inspired and encouraged me along the way. I have learnt new skills (I pulled a mean pint – once) and more importantly, put myself forward to try new things, without a second thought for my pride or shame; without an ounce of embarrassment (despite now being publicly renowned for my appalling coffee-making skills). I have showed resilience and felt confident, proud, strong and determined.
From one extreme to the other, I have just spent the last two weeks living in solitude in a freezing, lonely barn on a flower farm. However, I have been able to carry forward my new strength and resilience and the support of new friends. I have seen the best of a bad situation, stuck it out for the sake of a second year visa and come through the other side unscathed and with a smile on my face.
Now in Launceston, I have been kicking back for a few days recovering from a severe episode of Run-down-itus. A very English city, it has cured my short bout of homesickness (whether that is sickness for my Lake Pedder home, or for a need of a cuddle from my mum when I’m sick; I cannot tell). After spending seven weeks out of reach of anything even slightly resembling a town, I have welcomed having a few city luxuries (like supermarkets and warm showers) for a while. Launceston has the balance right in this respect. All the conveniences of a city in walking distance; only a ten minute walk to untouched wilderness. Beautiful, friendly people; still space to breathe.
Tomorrow, I must bid this beautiful state farewell. It’s with sadness and fond memories that I say goodbye to quite possibly the first place I have seen myself calling home one day. On Wednesday, I arrive in Darwin where I meet my new family for the next three months. In all honesty, I am feeling a little travelled out at the moment and am eager to find somewhere to call home for a little while; to make friends that I don’t have to leave behind a week later; to finally unpack and see what has been living at the bottom of my backpack for the last five months; to have a little routine – just for a while. I am excited to begin this new era and am in the best shape I could be to embrace it head on, thanks to a truly life-changing experience in “the natural state”.
I know that I cannot leave this state behind; I have unfinished business here and I will put my faith in fate that I return in the way I wish, with whom I cannot imagine doing it without.
Journeys Inside and Out 