Saturday, 27 August 2016

Diary #5 - Tears, tiredness and tequila

Well hello there. As I sit and write this, I'm currently in my dorm bed, at 8:48pm on a Saturday and accompanied by a cup of tea and an extremely large bar of Dairy Milk Oreo which I swear either has crack cocaine in or I just have staggeringly low self control and I would not like anyone to tell me which one it is... But yes, on a Saturday night in the lively city that is Melbourne, I'm in bed - totally living 'the dream'.

The concept of 'the dream' is a funny one isn't it. Before I started travelling, I couldn't wait to leave the UK behind with all of its responsibilities and uni and work and everything that comes along with having to actually grow up and start being an adult (ugh, who even thought of that ever being a good idea?). I've been travelling now for just under four months and you know what, this blog is my little space on the internet and it's always about being real, whether that be about homesickness at university to politics to and so yep, I'm going to admit that I've found the past couple of weeks of the trip really hard.

I know most of you will probably be sat reading this thinking that I'm either clinically insane, indescribably ungrateful, a complete moaning minnie or all of the above because duh, I'm on a trip of a lifetime so quit whining and enjoy it but sometimes, sometimes, it isn't all that it cracks up to be and I'm reeeeeally sick of people online pretending that it is.

So as I've mentioned approximately 736793 times, the 6 weeks I spent in Cape Town was pretty much the best time of my entire life so far. I fell completely in love with the city and the people and pretty much everything about it and it was only as we were about to leave South Africa that my friend and I realised just how much of a mark it had left on us. We then headed to Bali and really, it was quite unfair on the place that it was having to follow somewhere that we had adored so much because it was basically like watching Beyonce perform for like 5 hours straight and then Leona Lewis coming on afterwards, like it was okay and great and everything didn't particularly blow us away. Some of the people we met were so rude, one of the places we stayed at was terrible, there was nothing authentic about literally anywhere we went apart from Jimbaran Bay and we even tried to bring our flight to Perth forward by about 10 days because we just weren't enjoying ourselves.

But it was okay, because next up was Australia, somewhere we'd both wanted to go for years and years so it was fine. We were going to get there, find jobs immediately because everyone says how super easy it is to get jobs here and then we'd be living it up and never want to leave ever, ever, ever.

So now, almost a month into Australia, it's insane to me that this is where I've been the most unhappy of the entire trip. Firstly, I love Melbourne and I'm excited to be here and to explore and to experience the city but I'm putting it out there, this leg of the trip has not been particularly easy. After heading to Melbourne from Perth due to realising there were very few jobs there and not a huge amount to do when it's not summer, we were told repeatedly that it's easy to get a job in Melbourne, easy peasy lemon squeezy. 

Weeeell, I've spent the last 2 weeks going round the city doing trial after interview after trial after interview...and nothing. Absolutely nothing. And you know what? 2 weeks of solid rejection is not easy on the whole emotional wellbeing, I'm just putting it out there. In one of our many, many, many, #deepandmeaningful chats we've had over the past few months, something my friend said one night really resonated with me. 

'If one of your friends was as horrible to you as your own mind was to yourself, you'd never speak to them again'.

And it's so true. Because as each rejection came along, my brain has decided to become meaner and meaner and the past week especially, I have been so miserable. I'm in bloody Melbourne in bloody Australia and I have bloody cried 3 times in the last bloody week over bloody waitressing jobs. 

Well, no more. I'm a massive believer in what will be, will be, and so... that it will. The whole point of this year away was to enjoy it. To relax, to experience different cultures and countries, to meet new people, to drink and eat and laugh and appreciate life. But if I'm stressing about getting a job and money and this and that whilst in a country that I'm seeing absolutely nothing of because of stressing about getting a job and money and this and that, then... what's the point? 

So, I'm done with being consumed in applying for jobs and attending trial shifts and going back home to apply for jobs and go back out to attend trial shifts. Because whilst I will try my hardest to find work, I'm not sacrificing the next few weeks or months for it. I'm not making myself sad or becoming awful company because a few waitressing jobs that I wasn't completely bothered about haven't chosen me.

Travelling is seen as the most incredible thing in the entire world and it IS the most incredible thing in the entire world but what I've realised is that, backpacking as such, isn't for everyone... and that is okay. It's okay to try something, to try a certain way of travelling and actually, admit that nope, perhaps this way of seeing the world isn't for me. Perhaps I'd prefer to have an incredible 6 months, where life was completely carefree and to then go home. Or perhaps something will come about and I won't want to go home for 2 more years. Who knows, but neither is a failure, neither is better than the other. 

Most of you reading this will probably be reaching for the world's smallest violin because isn't it such a terrible problem that travelling around the world isn't the most incredible experience all of the time but, it's just me, being honest about life. It's just me, letting you know that all of those incredible photos you see on social media taken by people who appear to be 'living the dream' aren't always what they appear to be. And if you're reading this knowing exactly what I mean, or struggling to find work, or missing home, it's okay, go and fix yourself a hot drink and whack out a bar of chocolate and chill, we've got this. We properly actually have got this. 

Okay, end of ramble. Off to demolish my chocolate and plan fun things to do in Melbourne this coming week.

P.s Being away from the UK has made me really appreciate how bloody nice and polite people Brits are and also, that our Dairy Milk is the best in the world, no doubt about it, no arguments, nothing, full stop.

Love ya!

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  1. I really don't think that anyone should be judgey about the fact that you're not enjoying travelling as much as you wanted to! You don't know how much//little you'll enjoy these things until you try them. I would be the exact same if I was handling rejection in the UK where I've got the 24/7 support of my family and friends, let alone all the way across the world! I hope it gets better soon

    Steph -


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