Category: Thoughts

#thisisWA

Today is a Public Holiday in my hometown, historically known as Foundation Day but more recently renamed WA Day in the land of the long weekend.

Apparently the freeway was a carpark on Friday, crammed full of carloads of locals heading away on our last long weekend until September. Until today the Autumn weather has been sublime, but this morning I see clouds building up outside and can feel a change in the air.

So apart from a short week at work, what does WA Day mean to me?

I guess it’s a time for reflecting on the way of life in what’s referred to as the world’s most isolated capital city, which in my lifetime has grown from feeling like a big country town where riding a bike from the beach to the city was an enjoyable pastime to a sprawling suburbia full of cars.

Memories of a childhood growing up by the beach, walking to school swinging my bag above my head to ward off the marauding magpies. The excitement of dressing up for a day in the city, the iconic Swan River snaking a path from Freo dividing local loyalties into North versus South.

The feeling that no matter where you are, chances are there’ll be someone there who knows you from somewhere.

The isolation is travel motivation but also a source of frustration because of the amount of hours and dollars it takes to get anywhere. And the long flight home when it’s time to return.

For me it’s the sunshine and clean air that refreshes my soul that is not comparable to anywhere I have traveled to. Our beautiful beaches, West Coast sunsets and abundant opportunity to enjoy the great outdoors; these are a few of my favourite things.

They say that familiarity breeds contempt, and maybe that’s why I have such a thirst for learning and wanderlust. You never know what you’ve got til it’s gone …

G’Day from WA, a little pocket of paradise in my opinion.

An Unexpected Scene

Our recent cruise on the Arcadia included a stop at the Port of Piraeus in our third week, and our party of four were very much looking forward to
our planned excursion to Athens.

The Acropolis for me was a must see, and certainly lived up to my
expectations, however a common sight during our time in Athens was dogs, including this cutie who seemed very happy and relaxed
resting in the field of poppies on the hillside adjacent to The Acropolis.

As an avid cat owner and spotter I have been accustomed to seeing my feline friends in unfamiliar places, but it was only in Athens that there
appeared to be a lot of very well fed and relaxed dogs laying around
everywhere we visited.

My travelling companion Maria was also intrigued, so asked our tour guide for information.

His version of the dogs being cared for by the local community seemed to make sense,
but since returning home I have been haunted by the thought of who
actually does care for them and why.

In researching the topic online I came across a number of commentaries on the topic, including this discussion of why stray dogs are a problem in Athens:

Not because they will attack you or chase you through the city streets but mostly because of an image problem of a major city and wandering around, lounging in the shade, solo and in packs are dogs

Source: Stray dogs are a problem in Athens

A Thousand Words

Forgive me if this post is somewhat melancholy, attending a funeral has the tendency to cause me to stop and reflect on my own life journey and contemplate what there would be to show for and what would be said about me at mine.

The old adage ‘A picture tells a thousand words’ never rings more true than at a funeral, when along with personal recollections by friends and family it is the lifetime of photos that tell the story of a life.

At forty five years of age I consider myself to be halfway through my story, and it is the circle of friends and family I have acquired who love and support me unconditionally and for whom I do not hesitate to do so in return that mean more to me than anything I have achieved or purchased.

I will admit to feeling a twinge of jealousy when entering a beautiful home, and well done if you have achieved your savings goal, but if that is all there is to show at the end of a lifetime I personally feel that to be a waste of life.

It is not the photos of property portfolios and possessions, or even bank balances that bring memories flooding back, it is the people and experiences that define a life, and I think that’s what’s driving me to see and experience more of the world in my lifetime.

The home pictured above was built by my husband’s grandfather and hosted a lifetime of stories, but at the end of the day it was sold when the Carn family links to the house ended and is now the setting of a whole new family story.

Sincere apologies to anyone I may offend by expressing this sentiment, but life for me is a journey not a destination so while I am still healthy and mobile I choose to live, and anyone who’s feeling stuck on the treadmill should consider doing the same.

First Day Blues

Well I did it, got out of bed before midday even though it felt like the middle of the night, put on my work face and made it to the office on time. Granted my day wasn’t terribly productive thanks to all the emails I had to read through and two catch-up meetings I attended, but it felt good to know I was missed and my return to work is valued.

So why do I now feel so flat?

The feeling started when I pulled down my holiday itinerary from the office wall, was reinforced after being asked about my personal highlight of the seven week holiday (seriously?), and set in with vengeance after my second cup of coffee.

The amazing holiday we planned and saved for and counted down the days to is really over, so apart from reading through my journal and blog, and revisiting the amazing places and faces in my mind there is nothing else on the horizon for me apart from work, friends and family for the rest of the year.

Don’t get me wrong, I like working and love spending time with my family and friends but that doesn’t stop me scrutinising every cruise email and travel website and fantasizing about a life where I get to work while I travel.

To paraphrase a Slim Dusty song my husband plays, ‘looking forward, looking back, I’ve come a long way down the track, got a long way left to go … making sense of what I’ve seen …’

Leaning forward to see what’s coming, the anticipation and excitement of venturing into the unknown, for me that’s a happy high that’s hard to beat.

Another point of view

Arcadia is at sea today, the first of four sea days before our next stop, Aquaba. A time for rest and relaxation, along with personal reflection about our experience at our recent destinations.

After three days in the UAE we spent Easter Monday in Muscat, the capital and largest city in the Sultanate of Oman, and encountered a unique blend of Asian, African and Arabic cultures.

Fahed, our shy and gentle young tour guide, led us on a journey of discovery of the heritage of Muscat with stops ranging from the Muttrah Souk (Marketplace), the oldest in Oman,
Al Alam (Flag) Palace, the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque and the Royal Opera House, the first and only in the Arabian Gulf opened in 2012.

The rocky, mountainous landscape presented a stark contrast to what we encountered in the UAE, with the dry 35 degree heat reminiscent of what we left behind.

Fahed, wearing a traditional white dishdashah (dress) with a kunmah (cap), patiently provided us with extensive information about his homeland and was happy to answer every question thrown at him.

Bordered by UAE, Saudi Arabia and Yemen, Oman is a Muslim state with Islamic customs strictly observed, but thanks to our ability to receive answers to our questions about Islam I can honestly say I have left with a vastly different point of view from that portrayed in the media.

Just as it was in UAE, Oman is proud of what has been achieved from the wealth generated by it’s natural resources, and tourists are warmly welcomed to it’s shores.

Highly recommended is a visit to the Bait Al Zubair (House of Al Zubair) museum inside a traditional Omani townhouse which provides a unique insight into Omani culture.

Walking amidst the locals inside the Muttrah Souk, inhaling the scent of spices and frankincense also provides an authentic shopping experience.

Who am I to judge or worse still condemn Islamic customs when we have been so warmly welcomed?

Shukran (Thank you) Fahed; Ma’salama (Goodbye) Oman.

And so it begins

New ZealandI am feeling very raw and exposed writing this, my very first blog post on my very first blog.

After all my years of journal writing I am ready to share my life travels and lessons with whoever might be interested, or not.

I recently heard a quote that feels appropriate:

‘Doctors bury their mistakes, journalists publish theirs’ …

So with a big deep breath, fingers crossed and lots of positive affirmations I’m putting myself out there warts and all.

Wish me luck!