Signing off

I made it home. And I even managed some sleep on the flight from Singapore - first time ever! Time to unpack, wash and settle back into home life. But undoubtedly a home life enriched and improved by some wonderful experiences. Through the people, events, achievements and encounters of this adventure I feel I've regained a little of the self confidence that had been waning before the trip. Thank you.

One of my first posts in this blog was about my search for heritage. In the end I didn't really explore heritage but the concept of belonging popped up time after time, in a number of different contexts. And for a while I thought I was going to come back with more questions than answers, but then a wise man told me earlier this week (paraphrased) that he thought the most important thing was to belong with/in/to yourself. I like that. That's something I can work on.

Until next time ... 

Au revoir

I don't think I've ever felt this sad to catch a plane. Usually, by the end of a holiday I'm ready to come home. To return to the comfort and familiarity of home, the routine of work, the company of family and friends. This time I'm not ready. Not at all.

My flight leaves Heathrow at 11:25am. I decided to get to the airport as early as possible and then relax there. I'll be able to use the Singapore Airlines lounge. I woke at my usual 5:00 and had my coffee while reading the social media feeds. Because the hotel is so close to the Picadilly line it made sense just to catch the underground. I was on the train by 7:00. The last carriage was only half full.

Getting out at Terminal 2. 

The check in and security processes were quite quick. Walking to the gates and lounges however, seemed to take forever. But I'm here now. I had a good breakfast and now it's just a matter of waiting. 

Looking back, I made a list (of course): 

• 36 days (38 by the time I get home) 
• 7000+ photos
• 7 flight legs
• 7 intercity train journeys
• 11 hotels/apartments
• 0 delays
• 0 cancellations
• 0 booking stuff ups
• +10 kilos of books and other purchases
• +2-3 kilos of me (too many full English breakfasts, morning teas and pints)
• Countless memories

Au revoir England. See you again very soon, I hope. ❤️

Windermere

It was an impossibly prolonged goodnight. Each time I looked up, expecting you to be done, you were still present. Slightly faded from the last time but still lingering. In no hurry to be finished with the day. 

But now you've finally fallen into the darkness. And I sit with the lights off, watching you rest like a parent watching in wonder at the peaceful sleep of their newborn child.

This is a bit different. With no evidence of any other life it feels like you and I are the only two left in the world. And you are in slumber. I keep watch alone. At least, that's what I like to think. I know there's really life inside you, hiding beneath the shadows. 

This would be the ideal time to make my confessions. But I just sit. Trying to hold on to this feeling for as long as possible. Afraid to fall myself. Determined not to squander this rare moment or surrender it to the numbness of sleep. 

In the early morning, when the first sunbeams sneak around the edges of the curtains, you are the first thought to enter my mind. What is your morning look? And though my eyes are heavy from insufficient rest, I can't resist the desire to peek. 

But you aren't ready. You maintain control and composure, shrouding your modesty with white mist. You force me to be patient and close my eyes for a little bit longer. 

Soon enough I try again. This time you're ready to greet me, though you rise just as gracefully as you fall. Gradually blossoming as the increasing light reveals your features.

We share a moment. 

And then, in an instant, that moment is over. Family surrounds us, darting across the sky and heralding in full voice. Exercising flight and song as if they were new discoveries being tested for the first time. Vying for our attention.

Time to go our separate ways. For a while at least. 

Have a nice day. See you tonight. x

Secondhand nostalgia

Today I visited the National Railway Museum. At numerous times I experienced a feeling of nostalgia. Seeing this picture was just one of those occasions. The rounded booths selling newspapers and refreshments seem so familiar. But the reality is I've probably never seen them in real life.

As a kid I was into trains and making models. The catalogues all contained English and European railway scenes and I think I grew up with those scenes imprinted in my memory rather than those of Australia. 

It felt weird to feel so nostalgic about something I've only experienced secondhand. 

Oops

Today I had by first travel mishap. Luckily it was resolved and there should be no lasting problems. 

It began when I went to the train station to collect my tickets for my next train journey on Wednesday. I needed to use a machine that required me to insert the credit card I had used to book with. I had a bit of difficulty entering the correct booking code and got a little flustered. Subsequently, I left my credit card in the machine by accident. It wasn't until much later in the day that I realised the credit card was missing. I assumed/hoped that I'd left it in the machine - I figured it would have been my best chance of recovering it. 

I made a beeline to the train station and asked. Yes, someone had handed it in. Unfortunately, their policy is to destroy cards if they aren't claimed within 10 min. I can understand and appreciate that policy. At least they confirmed that the card had been handed in and was now destroyed. 

The card was really only a backup anyway ... and I have a backup backup credit card just in case! The only thing I definitely needed it for was to collect my final train tickets. Luckily they were able to do that for me since they knew the card had been destroyed. So all good. 

I guess, considering I have organised the entire trip myself, I'm doing pretty well if that's been the only hiccup so far. 

Photos from a train

Train photography is difficult and frustrating.

You perform the pre-photo check. Shutter speed fast enough to compensate for train movement? Check! ISO high enough but not too high? Check! Aperture acceptable? Check!

You spend your time waiting for a gap in the trees, embankments and other obstacles.

When there's a break you quickly frame your shot, assuming there's something to shoot. If you're lucky you get it. More likely you get another tree, or train signal or one of numerous other types of poles.

So you wait for another break. And wait. And wait. And wait. No break. So you lower your camera. Just for a moment.

Then suddenly the perfect scene appears. Quick! Aim! Focus! Tree! Damn!

When you finally get the scene you wanted to capture you check. Did you remember to avoid the reflections on the glass from inside the carriage and the opposite window or is your beautiful scene marred by a massive white patch? Or worse, your desperate expression in reflection! Or did the rocking of the train bump you just at the last moment? Is it light enough? Is the right part in focus? Is any of it in focus? 

If it's an epic fail you delete it straight away.  Otherwise you keep it. 

You work on the principle that the more shots you take, the greater the chance of success. Luckily you brought lots of memory cards. You're going to need them!

And on top of all that you want to be considerate of the people around you. Don't want be a nuisance. Though to be honest, this last one is just a matter of managing guilt. Nothing is actually going to stop you from trying to capture this moment. Nothing!

Waiting

Feet tired from tiny alleys cobblestoned over hillocks.  I rest beside the sea.

Waiting. 

Ice cream satisfies my craving for sweet creaminess. 

The sound of a saxophonist busking fills my right ear. A mixture of building sounds, passing cars and chatter fills my left. Both are punctuated by the occasional gull cry carried on the steady breeze. 

Boats are bobbing in the water. 

Here I sit. Miles from home. On the water's edge in Bergen. Not quite half way through this adventure. A pinch me moment.

Content. Calm. Not yet relaxed, but getting there. 

Waiting. 

Random

Today I caught the metro to Central Station to catch my train to Oslo. I was in the lift about to go up and a woman motioned me to hold the lift for her and her pram. That was lucky because I didn't know which floor to select and she was able to help. 

Then she said she recognised me. Was I at the Dark Mountain event last night? Of course I was, and on second look I recognised her too. We had a brief chat about the event before having to go our separate ways. 

There would only have been 20-30 people at the event. How random to bump into one of them next day! 

I think the universe may be telling me this group and what they are about is important. 

Hello May

After taking some medication, I slept better last night. Today is 1 May. Last night was Walpurgis Eve (https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Walpurgis_Night) and there were to be bonfires and singing. Unfortunately, in my brain addled state last night I forgot all about it, but I would have been in no condition to be out in the cold anyway. It's a little disappointing to have missed it, but plenty more to see and do.

Today my primary goal is to hit the museums and top of the list is the Vasa Museum (https://www.vasamuseet.se/en). I'm very excited about it and plan to get there at opening time. 

About time

For the past few months I've subscribed to some London visitor sites on Facebook. The posts have been both tantalising and frustrating as I've been teased with activities I can't yet attend. Until today! I saw an advertisement for an open day at the London Transport Museum this coming weekend. And I will be there. All booked. Yay!

Heritage

I was born in Dartford, England. We lived in Wilmington, 25 km south east of London.  My family moved to Australia just before I turned 7. And as soon as I arrived here I felt like an outsider. In time I would realise that my place of birth was only part of the reason. But at the time I reacted by discarding my English-ness. I did my best to lose my accent. I happily subscribed to the  local view of an irrelevant mother England. 

I had a casual interest to go back but it never materialised until 2010. And as soon as we arrived, as soon as I opened the curtains of the hotel on that first morning it felt like coming home.  The intensity of that feeling and the sadness when we left took me by surprise. Since then I have been slowly reacquainting myself with my homeland. Wondering what it means to be English. 

This trip will be my fourth time back to the UK. So far I've spent the most time in London, my favourite place in the world. But this time I've decided to venture further afield. To discover other parts of my homeland and hopefully connect with a broader dimension of the land that is in my blood. To explore my heritage.

38

Today is exactly the same number of days until my adventure begins as the number of days I'll be away - 38. Everything important is booked. I just have to wait it out now. Feeling excited!