Au revoir (again), London!

Just a short one today… mostly to share a photo I’m pretty proud of!

London really turned it on for me on my flying visit yesterday. In over ten years living there, I don’t think I’ve taken a better photo than this one, westwards from Waterloo Bridge at sunset. Fitting that my favourite viewpoint in town was the last place I spent time in central London before scuttling off to catch a train from Waterloo. My office used to be very close to Waterloo so, much as I’m sure Sydney Harbour will compensate, I’ll miss my daily dose of the Thames and views like this will always give me fond memories of home.

I’ve been asked what I’ll miss most in London. Obviously the thing I’ll miss most is people – the majority of my friends are in or around London after all. Beyond that I’ve come up with good beer and old buildings, neither of which Australia is very good at (I hope to be corrected on the beer front!). Also London has incredible (and free) museums which I’ve loved reacquainting myself with in the last month or two. I look forward to seeing what Sydney has to offer in that department!

Au revoir London – not goodbye!

A false start and silver linings

Writing my first posts from the UK was not the plan. After a whirlwind but carefully choreographed week after leaving work, my 97 boxes had been taken away to begin the long journey to Sydney, my suitcases for the plane packed, flat cleaned, leaving drinks enjoyed (perhaps a bit too much… ahem), and boarding passes printed. But some things can’t be controlled… the night before I was due to put my one-way ticket into action and embark on a 10-week dream holiday, I learned of my grandmother’s death and threw the plans out of the window.

Suddenly it was one decision at a time. Starting with “Do I fly tomorrow morning?” Once I’d settled on “no”, I decided that everything else could wait until tomorrow. After each decision I worked out what the next one was and gave myself time to make it. I’ve now got further with the decisions: staying with my parents until the funeral on Monday, flying to Sydney the next morning, rebooking this week’s Tasmanian tour to start the weekend after I arrive, cancelling the following week’s tour and picking up my original travel plans from the Adelaide test match onwards. Still things to sort – insurance (more on that in a future post), flight refunds, post-tour accommodation… but I’m getting there.

I think I’ve been able to help with funeral arrangements (typesetting orders of service are within my skillset, it turns out, and knowing a nice pub in the right bit of Oxford should mean we have the post-service refreshments sorted). But going from the rollercoaster of getting myself ready to emigrate to suddenly having close to nothing to do has been strange. Very strange. Nothing to do is really not my style. I go mad if I have to sit still for ten minutes let alone two weeks. But, in a desperate attempt to stay sane, I’ve discovered and enjoyed many things – the view from St Giles Hill in Winchester (where my parents live) and a stonking lunch in the lovely Wykeham Arms, which I’d never got to before; a country walk along the Thames with a friend on his week off between jobs; catching up with people who couldn’t make my leaving drinks; a new and superb coffee shop in Oxford; some bonus time with my parents who I’ll miss immensely; a chance to draw breath in a way I wouldn’t have had I got on that plane as planned.

The last fortnight feels like three months, I’ve no idea what day it is half the time, and there’s definitely a big grey cloud I’d never have chosen. But it’s one with silver linings. Australia will still be there when I arrive, and the sun will probably still be shining. Right now, family comes first and I’ve a final few days of Autumn colours to enjoy here.

Passport burning a hole in my pocket

Since announcing my plans to emigrate to Australia, several months ago, I’ve been asked “why?” more times than I can count. And it’s a fair question. Why would I walk away from London, one of the greatest cities in the world, a job I reckon I’m pretty good at in a company where I’m supported and immensely valued, more friends than I can count, and my beloved parents 90 minutes away?

In short, because I can. I’m fortunate enough to be a British-Australian dual national, thanks to my Sydneysider mother (who, 45 years ago, did the classic “come over for three years” thing, met my dad and changed her mind about going home – so intercontinental moves are in my blood!). That little blue passport opens the doors to Australia, and indeed New Zealand, for as little or as long as I want to stay there, no questions asked. It offers me the opportunity to live in the same continent as my cousins, who are fantastic but I’ve not had enough face time to be close to as I’d like; to experience a lifestyle which may be similar but definitely has differences; to see far more sun and sea and sand; to visit all the stunning bits of Aus and NZ I never get to on holiday because by the time I’ve visited my friends and family it’s been time to fly home; to reset expectations on my work-life balance over 10,000 miles from my previous job; and to take on the challenge of applying my skills in a new market. After returning from a year in NZ in 2007, I’ve always thought I might go over for longer one day. Recently I’ve concluded “if not now, when?”.

After looking at it from the perspective of what will I regret more in five years’ time, I decided to give it a whirl. It’s for three years minimum, unless I decide I really don’t like it, so I have to invest in a new life and new friends. Sounds alarming, three years, but what was I doing three years ago? Pretty much what I’m doing now. I had the same job (or a more junior role in the same place), the same friends, the same flat. I’ve loved absolutely all of it, but in my mid-thirties it’s time for something to change. I wouldn’t have chosen the single life, but while I’ve got it I want to enjoy it to the full – and one big advantage is being able to make decisions for me and only me. As a friend and former colleague put it, “You only get one shot at life”.

With a combination of careful planning and some slices of luck, I’ve managed to set things up quite nicely. I have landed a good job in the heart of Sydney at an international professional services company, but not to start until mid-January. For this cricket tragic, the timing of two months off and the Ashes in Australia is no coincidence – I’ve tickets to eleven days over three matches. And I will also walk the Overland Track in Tasmania, explore Kangaroo Island, spend two weeks in New Zealand over Christmas, and catch up with many friends and family members.

There’s a huge amount I’ll miss, but a lot to be excited for. Time for the little blue passport to stop burning a hole in my pocket.