For a year, the decision to leave had felt like an easy one. As we landed back in Aus after a quick month trip away, we knew we needed to do more… and needed a longer time to do it. We made the promise to save like crazy for the next year, finish renovation on the house and then quit our jobs, get renters and go for as long as our money would stretch.
We both knew that we needed to do it. Stu had been in the same career for 16 years and was already coming home sounding like a man twice his age- grumbling about this and that for at least an hour just because he felt so done with the whole thing. For me it was more about finishing what I started. When I had moved back from England I had sworn that I would continue to travel and see the rest of the world – preferably before thirty. It was also perfect timing as I am still to try and ‘advance’ in my career due to my gypsy ways and for Stu as it would give him a well earned break and the time he needed to decide his next move in his working life.
The only problem to come was that we were stupidly happy (well maybe not in the work dept for Stu) in our little Melbourne bubble. We have amazing friends who we get to see all the time, family who are close and all the opportunities any 20 or 30 something could want. So while I was still excited about the adventure, nerves and the question ‘is this really what we should be doing?’ kept haunting me.
But as we finished cleaning the house for the renters, said goodbye to friends and family once again, it seemed crazy to let the nerves win. We are so lucky that we CAN just take off for a year, there’s so many in the world who never even travel beyond their town of birth.
So here goes nothing!