It’s been a long time. A really long time.
I recently had the great pleasure of doing some writing for an Australian travel blog. I was thrilled to have the opportunity (a bit of a dream come true; Paid writing! About travel!), but I was also weirdly nervous. As you can see from my blog, it’s been nearly 2 years since I last posted, and even then it was a rare update after a few months of radio silence. Apart from a few things I’d written for work, I was very out of practice.
But what it did for me was remind me just how much I love doing it, and it really made me miss my blog. I’ve attempted to pick it back up before, but worried that as so much time had passed it wouldn’t be relevant anymore, throwing me into a cycle of more delay, more nervousness, and more situations where it went into the ‘too hard’ basket.
So here it is, started once more, in the vain hope that this time it will last. That life and work won’t get in the way and stop me from doing it, that I won’t lose my nerve, and that I will continue to remember how much I love writing.
But it comes with a few changes – a change in the look and feel, a change in my approach and a change in title.
When I first started this blog I was in my early 20s, I was a kid really. I had left Australia with a plan to travel the world and to live in London for two years (a pretty standard rite of passage for most aussies). It was an adventure. And it was temporary. Hence the previous title, ‘Adventures of an Aussie Girl in London’. It was intended to be a narrative of my nomad life, a collection of travel stories as I explored the world.
What I didn’t appreciate at the time was that I was actually, slowly but surely, building a life in London. I’ve married a wonderful man, I’ve built my career, I’ve made some wonderful life-long friends, I’ve joined running clubs, I’ve bought furniture, I’ve planted herbs in the garden, I’ve planned things well in advance – I’ve settled in.
I recently celebrated my 6 year anniversary of living in London and it occurred to me that 6 years in one place is actually a really long time. Apart from my home town, it is the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere. I have adapted to the culture, my accent has changed (slightly), and it has well and truly become my home. I may still have one foot (ok maybe just a toe) in Australia, and will always consider it ‘home’ but I realised, I’ve almost, almost, become English.
Almost English is a name I am shamelessly borrowing from the book Almost French, a book that really resonated with me, about adapting to a new world, a new culture and a new life. If you ever find yourself uprooted and suddenly living on the other side of the world, you might find this book a comfort that you are not alone in feeling alien, in not understanding the way things are done, and in missing home.
So here it is, blogosphere. My latest attempt at a regular journal of my life – the world, the stories, the inspiration and the wonder. I hope you welcome me back with open arms.
Almost English 