About a month ago I was offered the opportunity to go to Austin for a week. It's for work, and it's only a few days on the ground, but how could I say no? I love the city, love the country and well, if someone wants to pay for it, then who am I to refuse the offer?
See, I think about America everyday. Living there was an absolute privilege, but it had to come to an end. Life had to move on, and as the calendars pages flipped over, the place I grew increasingly fond of moved on as well.
|Snow. In Australia. In November.|
In the time since Australia has been good to me. I've had friends from around the world come visit, graduated from uni, picked up work for a magazine, celebrated the return an Illawarra team to the NSW Cup, watched Bruce Springsteen live, twice, and moved to Newtown, Sydney. The job has sent me to some new parts of Australia, even to China, while life in the city has oft had its own adventures. But still, I'm reminded constantly of America, of living in Scotland, of walking around Tokyo at night and I get itchy feet again.
About one week after I got home two years ago I booked a course to learn to ride a motorcycle. Travelling from Cape Cod to San Diego overland had its own challenges and rewards, but it was still an insulated experience jumping on a bus or train and being a passive entity while the ground moved underneath. Riding the bike reintroduced the adventure, the work and the reward.
|China: Weird weekend.|
Once university finished I rode to Mt Kosciuszko, through the Snowy Mountains and up the South Coast of New South Wales while my speed was curtailed by the law at a meagre 80km/h.
One year later I rode from Sydney to Tasmania and around the island for 10 days before turning back home. It was incredible, vastly usurping unemployment spread out mostly at North Beach as the best way to spend the warmer months. And still, America is never far from my attention.
|Tassie. Shit yeah.|
Now I'm about to get another hit. I'm still stumped that someone else is footing the bill, but again, as if I was ever going to say no.
It's time for a solid 15 hours on a tin can. If I'm lucky at the end of it I'll get a few moments to grab a PBR, eat all the burritos in Texas and watch the Bulls bash the Heat. Ideally though, I'd be about eight weeks late for my flight home and see the places I missed last time. I guess there's still some unfinished business.
|Sam Hawley & Sweaty Mke.|
Arrows - All Passwords are Brisbane
These guys are the best band in Australia. Get on it.