There’s no doubt that Rome and Paris are incredible cities . Rome for its amazing ruins ,the Vatican , great shopping and awesome food and Paris for its incredible style ,grand museums , monuments and refined food . It would be a tough decision choosing one over the other but the history of these places is enchanting , something that Australian cities can’t compete with . It’s the other stuff that really comes to mind . It’s the way the people live over here .

I’ll stick to what I said earlier ; the Italians are better looking than most . You struggle to find any junk food in the shops or shopping centres and when I did I noticed the ingredients were simpler with less of the chemicals and colour additives that Australia and America have in everything . The junk food aisle would be no longer than 5 meters in your major supermarket , most of the time less . Italy isn’t a multicultural country , not at least where we travelled . There doesn’t seem to be a lot of immigrants, nothing compared to France which did surprise me with its diversity of people . In Italy you eat Italian ..everywhere . It’s rare to see any restaurants that are not Italian . Carb loading is the order of the day . Heaps of amazing pasta and bread is served before everything , every time ! You are not going to eat a lot of meat , like we do back in Australia. Snacking or eating on the run is also something you won’t see a lot of . Their meal times seem to be a tradition that demands respect . The long lunch and late dinner is the norm . You won’t normally eat dinner until 8pm and in Paris we ate closer to 9-10 pm . A late afternoon nap is common place after lunch .

Smoking is big in both countries . A lot of people of all ages smoke . I was surprised at how many French women smoked . I thought that the French would be concerned about their complexion ,but not enough to keep a cigarette out of their mouth . Eating outside is big in both countries. Emma and I ate 80% of meals alfresco style . Be prepared to share your meal with smokers , it’s unavoidable.

Body odour . Really surprised. People take great pride in how they look and how they smell . It was one of the regrets I had once I got here ; having no aftershave . In crowded trains , packed streets , restaurants, whatever ,both French and Italians nearly always smelled good . There’s even a famous street in Paris that just sells fragrances , amazing .

They’re smaller in Italy . I’m 5-10 and there were times I felt like a 6 footer . It was less so in Paris . They’re definitely thinner in both countries , which helps with the way they dress for sure . Figure hugging attire is easier when your narrow . Also when you live apartment life I think you probably gonna invest in looking good as out what else are you gonna spend your money on outside of eating out .

Chivalry is dead I’m afraid ladies . I thought us Aussies were uncouth , unromantic and not the greatest role models in our street treatment of the opposite sex . Wait to you get over here ,especially in Italy . It’s every man for himself . Don’t expect someone to give you a little extra space as you walk in high heels on cobblestone pavers ,offer up a seat in a crowded train or help you with your bags just because you’re a woman . Nope , not if your gonna cost me anytime or comfort . It’s dog eat eat dog over here in the crowded cities . Same with lines and queues . Hold firm and keep the lurkers out . You have to .

Toilets : I’ve given this a fair bashing . Paris was a whole lot better than Rome but in both cities it pays to be conservative with your fluid intake .

Shopping . Insane ! Even me , someone who has long given up on trying to buy the nice threads was eventually roped in . The choice , the quality and the way people like to represent themselves when they step outside made me feel very insecure about the way I dressed . I dumped quite a bit of my packed luggage over here . It got to me . Everyone wears their clothes well fitted . Designer sneakers , jackets and raincoats are must seen items . You really see how we get ripped off in Australia when you go shopping for clothes over here for both quality and price . Do not over pack on your holiday here , keep some space as your gonna need it . I’m telling you , no self discipline is keeping you from buying the new threads in either country , and if you’re on a budget good luck sticking to it . Leather goods too . Holy shit , Emma wanted to come home with 6 hand bags !

Apartment living is how everyone lives , even in country towns . There’s no back and front yards . Space isn’t wasted on living quarters . Every bit of extra land can be used to grow something. It was very surprising to see 3 storey apartments in small country towns in Italy .

Birds . Where are they in Italy ? Pigeons are nearly the only bird I saw apart from the odd seagull ( they’re bigger over here ) . Apparently dirty old pigeons are protected . Most of the time the fruit trees were without nets. I can only assume anything with wings is fare game .

Wow what a trip . An unbelievable area to visit . No kids definitely works better . Young teens and kids would be a major handbrake in Europe , they wouldn’t stop whinging about having to visit ruins and museums and having to eat clean food . Do not bring them ! You gotta do a tone of walking , so pack a good pair of runners or shoes , preferably white as our black assics definitely didn’t fit with the European look . The wine … wow . Prosecco and champagne I could drink all day long and at very reasonable prices . Charcuterie in Rome …. Insane . Don’t go looking for burgers ,chips and parmas , stick to what they do best over here and you’ll eat better and for cheaper . People watching … hard to beat . The churches ….. incredible living breathing pieces of artwork . Do not walk past churches without popping your head in for a second . They’re free entry and you’ll be gobsmacked once you get inside . They were a highlight of our trip .

Well , there you go kiddies . I’m on the plane flying over the top of central Australia ,nearly at the end of a final gruelling day , but it is worth the pain . A European adventure masterfully organised by Emma is complete . I’m extremely grateful . If you can do it , even just once in your life , you won’t regret it . It’s time to shut this blog down for a little while now .

I’m writing this with a couple of beers downed , so excuse me if it gets a little messy .

I’ve done absolutely nothing . And I mean nothing . It’s been all Emma . She’s a tour de force . This whole trip is entirely of her making . It’s been an achievement that any travel agent would be proud of . The risk , the attention to detail ….nah it’s definitely not me . I couldn’t do it . Travelling does rely relinquishing control and on this last little leg we sure did .

I’ve been flying blind . Have been for awhile . Autopilot for months on end . A European adventure awaiting , but now I’m here . When Emma said we’d be sailing around Sardinia as well I didn’t really put the effort in to comprehend. I assume we were cruising on the P ‘n O or something like that , but no . It was more intimate . Emma tells me , “Just a few couples , no one we we know but we’ll have our own room “ . Whatever I say, It’ll be fun on a small ship “ . A couple of days out I work it out . We are on a catamaran with 5 other couples . Holy shit this is a leap of faith . I quickly spiral into overdrive . We could be on a boat with five 20 somethings listening to techno , posing for Insta shots with nothing more than g strings and sunscreen for company . Fuck …… I should’ve been in the gym 24/7 in the months before this trip . I need to stop eating now and start working on my push-ups .

It’s dark , it’s hot ,I can barely breathe and I think I need to run outside and scream . Both hands are against the wall . Fuck me ….. I’m trapped on this damned boat ,sweating , thirsty and I’m on the edge of a full blown panic attack . I’ve gotta a mild case of claustrophobia . It takes me a while to talk myself down from this cliff. “ Its ok dude , you’re a little drunk , dehydrated and wedged into the corner of your room , Emma right next to you blissfully snoring away in the spread eagled position . Yeah it’s true you’ve been living it up for 2 weeks , living like a fucking king , all on the back of your wife’s tireless organisation . So calm down , take a piss and thank your lucky stars you’ll only wake up with a stiff neck , sore back , 3 hours sleep and 6 days in a Mediterranean paradise to look forward to

Of corse it made sense . You weren’t going to get young influencers on this boat . It was the cost . This is gonna be 40 + and most definitely Europeans . Here we go kiddies .We are probably getting on a boat with 5 other couples who are definitely from other countries and may not speak English …………. Almost true on each but we have another older Aussie couple from Sydney .

The Aussies immediately connect . I don’t wanna be biased ( I always am ) but we roll into conversation straight off the bat , leaving everyone around us standing stiffly in a permanently paused position waiting for introductions. “ Shit Howie , we’ve gotta break away from Ian and Kaz and talk to the others “ , Emma says . “ True darl , but I don’t speak German “ , I laugh . Ian and Karen nod with a chuckle . They’re true Sydneysiders ,natural entertainers and fearless travellers and both around 70 years young . It turns out that they’re natural leaders and entertainers and so charismatic . It’s a Sydney thing , I reckon . The spotlight is where they do their best work ,it’s when you wanna a little more depth the Melbournians take over and keep a conversation interesting . We’ve got Fred and Kat ( late 50s ) from the Netherlands , a couple we end up with a natural connection to . Anja and Thomas from Germany ( late 50s ) a couple we just come around to late , Ian and Kaz from Sydney , Simon and Judith ( French Canadians ) in their late 20s and the Argentinans Vivian and Carlos ( weird fucks ) . We gotta a mixed bag , kiddies . Talk about jumping into the deep end .

This is no luxury cruise . It’s sailing in a large catamaran with 10 others and 2 crew . That’s 14 on a boat in pretty tight quarters . There are complications pretty early when we see some have alcohol allotments and some haven’t . There’s a miss communication on bookings and requirements . It’s still unclear but it seems some of us had been given a choice wether to bring more alcohol and only off a very restricted list of Sardinian and local wines . We had 1 hour before we set off and we didn’t have any extra alcohol , as did our fellow Aussies . Minutes later we are power walking to the local supermarket 1 km away . Emma grabs 5 bottles of Prosecco , I grab a slab of peroni and a large bottle of beer . Once leaving the supermarket with my box of beer broken open to scan ( we don’t know why ) It dawns on us we have to get this stuff back to the boat in 20 minutes . It becomes a mission of complete importance ; me holding a broken box together on my shoulder Emma with the 6 bottles slung over her shoulder in a bag , both sweating profusely in the midday sun . Of course we make it , but there’s discomfort as we’ve brought stuff back outside of the chartered provisions . This becomes a snapshot of the cruise . A little confusion , a little language misunderstanding and a little frustration all mixed in with a little gratitude of being on a catamaran in the Mediterranean, mixing with the ultra rich and those that are a little important , but fuck me that bed was hard and a little tight ,and shit that pillow was like a stone wrapped in newspaper . Geez I can whinge …..True , I always do .

In the end our cruise is cut short . The 25th consecutive and final week of the season was always a gamble . We had 3 pretty good days before the last 2 days are to be spent in port . The 2 crew are noticeable cooked and over tourists. The weather hung on and gave us 2 beautiful days before it turned , it felt like a similar vibe on the boat . The Argentinians were fitness nuts . Carlos didn’t drink or speak English . I’d look up in a loathing exhale to see Carlos doing push-ups ,squats or crunches at all times of the day ( no joke ) and his 60 year old partner bathing in her g-string legs spread eagled over the bean bag …. Fuck me , can’t I just drink and put weight on guilt fee . There was discomfort bordering on mutiny when we were told off for exceeding our 2 glass per day allowance of alcohol, then to have our Argentinian friend complain that she only drinks Rose and we’ll drink her allowance if we have that next bottle in the fridge , and then to find the crew had a large stash of wine (20+ bottles ) that we apparently couldn’t touch after forking out thousands of dollars for the privilege to be on this cruise . We come to the conclusion they hoard the wine for the end of the trip to be divided amongst themselves . Yep , it gets petty quick , even amongst mature adults . 14 middle aged adults on a big floating caravan in paradise was always going to get sticky , especially when you’ve gotta spend 2 ( actually 3 when you consider our enforced stay in Maddalena island harbour ) in port for the cost of a weeks holiday in most upmarket places around the world .

Emma and I exile . We grab a hotel and sleep . Tonight we catch up at Lorenzo’s parents restaurant in Sardinia for a final dinner and reunion , minus Fred and Kat . I’m hoping our dinner won’t be poisoned after the miserly tip they received , but fuck me whaddya do when it gets cut short . Ciao , I’m off to the bottle shop .

I had a perception about Italy that held strong in our 1st few days at Naples and the Amalfi Coast . I’ve now seen a whole lot more that is starting to change my narrative. It’s not always crazy busy , disorganised and in semi disrepair . There are places that are strikingly beautiful , carefully curated and very modern whilst preserving buildings and structures that are hundreds and at times thousands of years old . Monopli and Matera in Puglia are a perfect example

We’ve done a lot already . There’s countless churches that are truly incredible buildings , swam in the Mediterranean, eaten incredible food . We’ve been transfixed by the beauty of Lake Como , the massive scale and insanity of the Duomo in Milan and now Rome that I’ll save for later , as there is just too much to squeeze in one paragraph. I’ve found the way Italians do things just as interesting

I don’t want to sound like a dog on a bone and maybe this is a European and American thing . Actually a rest of the world thing …but where are the public toilets ? Why so few , especially in places that are heavily reliant on tourism ? Buckle yourself up .More to the point , buckle your bladder up . I get it . It’s heavily populated and why invest public money on stuff that never gets an Insta shot but geezus Christ when you’re walking for hours on end , often in guided tours and in public facilities 2 cubicles per 10 thousand people is just not gonna cut it . I feel sorry for the women who were actually forced to line up for the mens toilets yesterday only to be confronted by toilets with no seats covered in urine . I’m not exaggerating. And often to pay for the privelage is just a little too much . I know you can use the loo in the cafe you’ve just had lunch or a drink in but that’s the point , you’ve just consumed and now your off visiting sites for the next few hours . All I’m saying is be prepared .

The junk food : where is it ? Love this about Italy . Candy wrappers , chip packets and other rubbish are just not seen . No one seems to eat it and you definitely don’t see it advertised or prominently displayed .The kids eat the pastries that are at every corner store and why wouldn’t you as they are divine and so cheap . There is very few if any fast food outlets . You’ll find McDonalds but the stores are understated and from the facade are just like any other store . I love this . They can’t dominate the market or the streetscape and I never saw a burger or McDonalds wrapper on the street . There’s so much good food at reasonable prices why would you seriously eat there ? The kids look so good . Their skin , often blemish free . The Italian culture of loving good food is paying off . Then there’s the size of the Italians . They are thinner and as I said before they have great pride in their look and fashion all the way down to young children . There a dark side though .

It’s a ciggy lovers dream here . The Italians love a smoke and almost at any age . As Emma and I cut through traffic after a big day at the Colloseum and ruins we got swamped by a throng of kids pouring out of school . It was like walking through a forest fire burn off with many of the kids gasping away from cigarettes and vapes . There were several kids who didn’t even look as if they had hit puberty but no matter a cigarette will still lend you kudos . I think they must light up at the locker area and by the time the school doors opened it was as if the joint was on fire . In Italy you have to take it in your stride as passive smoking is a by product of walking the streets . Maybe this is why they’re thinner .

For now kiddies I’ll leave it there . In 2 weeks I’ve put 3 kilograms on . I might just go down and grab a box of durries and start my diet

Before we get to the sight seeing stuff there are some early observations that are starting to hold true . If you’ve got a bladder like an acorn as I have you’ve got to strategise carefully . Toilets are hard to come by , often cost 1 Euro , can be un operational , don’t have toilet seats and in city areas are nearly non existent ….so far. Puglia was much better than Naples and the Amalfi Coast . I didn’t dare touch a drop of any liquid once I left our hotel room , often spanning 5-6 hours so as not to be forced into panic , one hand holding old mate whilst feet involuntarily dancing in small steps . It’s a conundrum when at nearly every direction there is a plethora of cheap dining and drinking options , often with no visual sign of toilets . I find it tortuous as the one thing I’m happy to spend my money on is eating and drinking .

As I mentioned previously hospitality is aloof if not inconsistent. On one hand the Italians can be be the best of hosts , other times they couldn’t care less . When I inexplicably lost my phone in a torrential downpour exiting Positano we immediately located it as our ferry approached . I desperately scurried back to where our life 360 app pinged it , at a cafe some 50 meters away . I asked an older guy who was cleaning the tables where we just sat but he dismissed me despite my polite but desperate pleading . I then went to the cafe counter and asked if they had picked up a phone . They said they had and the waiter knew where it was but I would have to wait as he was busy . I look over my shoulder noticing the last of the travellers boarding our ferry in the rain ,but old mate was happy to wipe down tables and then commence to brew a coffee . “ Please “ , I plead . Explaining that I’ll miss my ferry ……. But nope . The waiter / barista ignores my plea . There is only one person in front of me waiting for his coffee but I’ll wait no matter what. Ferry missed ! I walk back forlornly, still without that damned phone as my waiter friend walks away without acknowledging me . I’ve fucked this one up , completely and hopelessly . Emma is drenched as she patiently waits at the boarding dock looking at the ferry chugging away …and I still didn’t have my phone .I feel totally stupid . We drag our cases back over the cobblestones which now look like stones in a river rapid ….and then it pours again .Monsoonal ….completely and utterly drenched .. I go back with Emma , both of us looking like pathetic drowned rats . Meekly , we ask if there had been a phone picked up . Of course there was and it is handed back to us with that typical Italian smile ,glint in eye and nod of the head . We ask if we can shelter under his awning he but says no. Thank you very much . When told we had to repurchase our tickets I laughed . Of course we do . Fortunately the lady at the kiosk is more than empathetic and reprints our tickets at no cost. . We catch that next ferry to Salerno to pick up our hire car , fearing we are now an hour late , but alas our car still hasn’t arrived. It will be some hour and half or more . All that lost phone pain and drenching was not even necessary.

After having a wonderful lunch as per usual . The food and the service around food have been 1st rate ; we cruise back to our rental car provider . I’ve scanned maps looking for toilets in Salerno to find there are apparently no public toilets in a 200 thousand people city . I’m sure this is not accurate but what do you do. I’ll just ask the guy at Budget Rentals as surely he’ll allow me to relieve myself considering our car is 2 and 1/2 hours late for pickup . “ No sir you cannot use our toilet . Maybe go next door and buy a coffee he may let you use his toilet “. …Ahhh , thanks mate . Ciao

I’m under no illusion that things are different over here . The things that are a given in Australia are not as valued . It’s a busy populated country swarming with tourists from all over the world that often can’t speak a word of Italian ( me ) . It’s very busy . No one will move out of their way for you on paths or lines or even on the road , It doesn’t matter if you’re struggling up a hill with suitcases in the hot sun or pouring rain . They’re not moving for you . You can be delayed on a bus or in a terminal and there’s probably not even going to be announcement let alone an apology . In fact right now as I write this we are learning that our luggage belt is broken at the carousel , after our flight left 30 minutes late without any explanation . It looks like we’ll miss our connection from Milan to Lake Como and yet not one official has explained anything to anyone , it was Emma who sought out the problem and to then pass the news on to everyone else . Of course she would . When international travelling I’m learning the hard way that you’ve gotta toughen up , have your wits about you and not expect any fanfare just cause you’re an Aussie . The locals will generally help you and have done several times . … And don’t lose your fucking phone ……..Arrividerci. PS , By the way we are on our train to Lake Como after a desperate down to the minute push that has the cortisol at peak level .

So you’re heading to the Amalfi Coast . That most revered coastal stretch of Italy where movie stars , influencers , the wealthy and any one who wants to be seen to be someone will be seen . If you’ve gotta trip booked here and you’re on a bit of a fitness kick so as you can look good for your Insta shots here’s a word of advice ……Ozempic , oh and throw in Botox too . Trust me you’re gonna need it . There’s a dress code needed and I definitely missed the memo .White leather sneakers , pastel coloured shorts or chinos ,white cotton shirt with buttons , preferably long sleeved and rolled back to the elbows. Maybe a nice wool necked sweater draped over your shoulders .You know the look . American preppy boy and shit the joint has been invaded with them too , along with their cheerleader partners . It’s a spectacularly beautiful spot , with postcard shots at every turn . That’s the give away really . We are all here for the shot . It’s not the place for stars anymore . They left in the late 90 s .It’s for the rest of us try hards . Sometimes it sucks to be Australian. We hear that we are good looking and popular . Take out Hugh Jackman and Margo Robby and a few other young stars and your left with the rest of us .Irish and English stock . Plain ,really fucking plain , borderline ugly I’d say . Compare us to the young Texans , Floridians , the Europeans and of course the locals and you’ll soon realise you were born hitting most of the branches on the way down .

When we exited the ferry ( the Positano jet ) in Positano you are met with a throng of travellers crammed in on a cobblestone landing leading into a beautiful little beach cafe area with stone beach perfectly marked out with blue and white lounges . You know the look . That one you’ve always seen in magazines and travel shows . We get set upon immediately by porters spruiking their services ,for this place you have to walk like a mountain goat via several pathways , steep rows of steps all the while shoulder to shoulder with fellow tourists . Don’t do what we did and google map your way to your apartment with heavy suit cases . After several attempts looking like complete flogs with fellow travellers smirking at us we gave up and used the porters . 20 euro was well worth the investment . Both of us were saturated with sweat and broken by the time we got to our apartment , but boy did Emma choose a place fitting of a Euro wannabe influencer .

This place is a pinch your self location . A fucking amazing . Pure eye candy for both people watching and for its postcard shots . Yes I’ve lived in LA and defended my adopted Americans to my Aussie friends . Where we lived the Yanks aren’t brash , aren’t loud and are not dislikable but here …..well the stereotype lives on strong . The Europeans are typically aloof , borderline rude unless your buying something from them . Mix it in with expensive art shops , restaurants,cool bars and alfresco dining and you’re in a Mecca for people watching . I do love judging and labelling a wanker , it’s probably why I loved this spot . 2 days here is all you’ll need . I thoroughly recommend it .

There’s nothing like a first trip to Europe . Emma had been before , but not I .A 24 hour endurance test . Fly emirates to Dubai , then Fly Dubai {don’t) to Naples . The latter was a 6 hour crush with no window , no inflight entertainment ( broken , and with no apologies from staff ) and seating engineered to accomodate small children only . 6 hours of flying in the tuck position … as horrible as it was we still get to the other side of the world in 1 day . I couldn’t imagine how anyone over 6 feet could survive on a FlyDubai charter .

We got out and into our transport pretty quick . You’re still up , fatigued but vacant . Just staring out into the madness of the traffic in Napoli .Little or no etiquette. Mopeds and small European cars tooting horns , cutting each other off , dodging pedestrians on foot crossings . It’s every man ,woman and child for themselves . In a weeks time we’ll be driving in it …please help me god . Our driver stops on a side of a big roundabout in the middle of Naples. It’s a pretty run down area that doesn’t seem the slightest bit touristy . There’s a seedy old guy locking eyes on us and a few others checking us out. Tourist bait . There’s confusion . Emma insists this is not where our hotel is . Our driver is confused , she doesn’t speak English , we don’t speak Italian . She makes a call to her boss ( we were guessing ) then apologises and dumps us in the middle of Naples some 20 minutes from our room . 65 Euros for the privilege. She points us to a taxi and gestures we grab it . We stand out like proverbial dogs balls . Welcome to Naples .

Our taxi driver was great , he got us to our hotel in his little rusted out shit box for 15 Euros . Lesson learned. A taxi from the airport may have been better . The anxiety of been stranded in a foreign city with not the greatest reputation for safety quickly turned to gratitude. On face value Naples isn’t for the faint hearted. Dirty , hectic , rundown and old . Very fucking old . A labyrinth of alleys , cobble stone streets , broken down historic monuments . It’s a city in decay , but it’s fascinating. It’s the people . The locals are so fucking cool . Walking around in their Sunday best , smoking thin cigarettes , groomed to perfection . Middle aged women and men in designer outfits , younger women and men straight out of a fashion shoot and the kids are all models . They are exude style . There’s barely a person without confidence. They are so well dressed and they are fucking good looking people . When Emma bought me a whole new outfit for our trip I rolled my eyes . Geezus , do I have to wear this stuff ? “You’ll see when you get there . “she said . Cafes at every corner , at every alley and and just about on every spare space of footpath . It’s a pasta and pizza lovers dream .

Just 1 day in Naples . 2 would be enough . It’s a melting pot of African street vendors , transiting tourists , Uber cool locals , alleyways , amazing food and architecture so old you can barely comprehend .

The Amalfi coast next : It’s not hard to feel out of place in this area.

Tired and weary ,but we are nearly home . We trudge our away around through the queues of people at the domestic check in transfer and head to the bus transfer lounge in Sydney airport . It’s easy to get fixated on people . You watch them , wondering what their story is . Is it their first big holiday abroad ? Did they go to Disneyland, Hollywood , Santa Monica , maybe even New York too ? Are they expats , US citizens coming Down Under . Everyone’s got a story , but is there anyone like ours ? Do they have their life in a suitcase ? Surely we are not unique . Of course we aren’t , many did it during Covid , but on this flight , today . Are we the only ones coming back home for good ?

I keep looking around but my attention keeps drawing back to another family . They look similar to us , just a bit . Husband , wife and 2 kids ; a teenage girl and a boy maybe a year younger than Leroy . I watched them in an adjacent queue . They looked tired and beaten too , but they had ski gear . Must’ve been a skiing trip to California. Probably Mammoth or Tahoe . What a time to do it , with some of the heaviest snow falls and biggest base in almost a generation . We find a seat to the side of the general seating area with a bit of space , I watch them enter the lounge . We catch eyes for a split second . They sit next to us .

“You guys go skiing in Mammoth ?” , I ask . I couldn’t help myself, I had to intrude . “ No , we ski’d in my hometown in Canada “ , he replied . That was fortunate as any mention of an American accent to a Canadian can now be left alone . After living in LA for 6 years you’d think I could differentiate between the 2 , but no . “ I wish we did ski the Sierras , as the snow there is much better than in Canada at the moment “ , he replies . I hear his kids and wife talking , they have Australian accents , they almost sound English and are very well spoken . “Ahhh , you live in Melbourne I gather ?” “Yeah we do , and you ? “

It’s awkward ,but it feels preordained, a chance encounter with strangers that are very different people but have a similar story to tell . We know we won’t be lifelong friends but there s a moment in time when we can talk about our circumstances . “ Yeah , we visited my home town , caught up with the family and did some skiing . We lived there for 4 years as a family and moved back to Melbourne nearly 2 years ago ,” he tells me . “I met my current wife travelling and followed her back to Australia and had 2 kids . We decided to try life in Canada but we came back for my wife’s family . “ he continues . “ You guys will stay in Australia ? “ , I ask . There’s a pause ….. “ We live in Camberwell . It’s a good lifestyle but there’s a lot of commuting , you’re in the car a lot running the kids around . Melbournes a bit wounded at the moment , it’s post covid , but it’s crazy busy . We are fortunate we can get away to our other house in Blairgowrie .” He’s an environmental scientist who works onsite in Alaska 3-4 months of the year whilst his wife has a business she runs remote . I can’t help but build a mental map . They’re well educated , wealthy , progressive thinkers , probably vote the Greens and yeah ….I’ve gotta stop judging people , I know it . I guess I’m envious . But there’s something there , I know it . He knows that I know it . “ We are starting to consider planning to move back to Canada permanently.” , he tells me ……there it is .

“This is it . We are flying back from 6 years of life in LA with our shirts on our back and a few suitcases …. Well 13 to be exact ! “ , I laugh . “Wow man , we know where you’re at “ , he replies . “The next 6 months are going to be the toughest , man . “ Actually , it’ll take a good 12-18 months to re establish yourself . It’s not easy . You’ve changed and when you come back home you’ll notice your friends haven’t . You’re different now , you’ve been reshaped , coming back to your old life won’t ever be the same . You just have to take it easy on yourselves . You’ll be living day by day without ever really feeling settled . We’ve been there , I wish you guys luck .” he says .“ We think we’ll probably head back to Canada . The small town lifestyle is something we miss , but hopefully you guys will find your groove . “

“Good luck , man “ “Good luck to you too , mate “I look over my shoulder and watch them disappear into the traffic . A chance encounter with a family with a similar story but a different ending . It’s been 6 months since we’ve landed . I wonder where those guys are at . Us ? We are doing ok . His advice ….. couldn’t be more accurate . Leroy was the first to adapt , he’s at home in Mornington and thriving . Emma’s on the up too , now that she has started her new job at L’Oréal . Tex ? He tells me hates it here every 2nd day . He desperately misses the surf at his front doorstep . For someone who hates it here he’s doing a lot better than he ever has . He has a girlfriend , gets to school ( just ) , has a part time job and is learning to drive . It’s the reason we came back . The kids have an easier pathway in Australia . . The rest ….. yeah our friends and family haven’t changedand thank good for that , that’s why we love them and want to hang out with ‘em . There’s a long way to go . It’s been bloody painful but there’s the first 6 months down . Gee, it feels a lifetime ago that we once lived in LA . Who’d of thought ?

Somehow we get our luggage to check in . Leroy has to push a trolley with 3 full suitcases and a backpack on . He pushes the trolley whilst leaning sideways so he can see the path ahead of him . I follow behind to shield him from the pack of rushing travellers . It’s funny how your body language changes when you sense tension . Tex pouts his mouth and puts his hand to his head , Emma’s all business , Leroy’s oblivious and I’m trying to exude an all cool approach , leaning back , smiling like this is a totally normal day . The check in is going smoothly . Some of the heaviest luggage is comfortably under weight . All 12 bags are on the conveyor belt but our guy looks across to myself and the boys , walks to his supervisor , his other colleague and then starts pointing back at us . Oh o, they’re onto us . He comes back to his desk , walks out into the thoroughfare and starts counting our carry on luggage . We can’t take it on the plane . We must check 1 piece in . We’ve already paid $600 for excess luggage and will have to pay another $200 to have 1 bag smaller than a back pack checked in . Emma protests strongly . Qantas management holds firm , we either check the bag in , leave it here or take luggage off the conveyor belt and reconfigure the bags , all whilst people wait behind us . They squeeze the $200 out of us . To rub salt into the wound an hour later at the boarding gate they announce that they are willing to check in extra carry on luggage free of charge , but it’s too late for us . $200 extorted . Thank you Qantas .

Once aboard the flight there’s little reminiscing. It’s bunker down , have a beer , watch a movie and please let me sleep . We are exhausted . In fact the flight is pretty good for a long haul 15 hour transit . Flying Qantas is nearly as good as it gets for my experience , it’s just that their customer service off the plane leaves a lot to be desired .We get to Sydney with all four of us achieving various levels off success sleeping , but we all got something . I reckon I got close to 3 hours , which is as good as it gets for me . It hasn’t been that way in the past . Taxiing at the gate then seems to stall . We wait and wait some more ,and then an announcement from the pilot alerts everyone that there’s a delay in parking the plane because the disembarking platform used to exit the plane is actually stuck in our parking spot and they are struggling to move it . In fact they can’t move it , a giant fucking trolley holds us on the plane . Geezus ! We’ve got a connecting flight to catch , like many on the plane . Tension rises , kids are crying , people are fidgeting , looking around with locked jaws . There’s small spot fires ready to ignite . We need to get off this fucking plane now! But we can’t . The pilot gets back on the microphone after half an hour and explains that we are stuck for sometime . The engine has been shut down and we are now blocking two aircraft along side of us from leaving for takeoff . The pilot lets out an exaggerated exhale at the end of his announcement . He’s pissed too . We would sit on the tarmac for an extra hour and half after flying 15 hours . Many of us have missed our connecting flights . After landing at 850 am we reach customs at 1050 am and the joint is a fucking ants nest with multiple international flights all funnelled into one space . Our 11am connect to Melbourne is a distant memory .

International travel is a privilege, but fuck it can be gruelling, especially when only one minor thing can create a snowball effect in the negative . It got worse when we got to the luggage carousel . Because of the delays there were 6 incoming flights all collecting baggage simultaneously. I happened to be alongside an air hostess from British Airways who informs me this is the worst she’s ever seen Sydney airport . She surmises it’s the post pandemic travel coupled with the near end to school holidays. The modest air conditioning was quickly overwhelmed with body heat and BO . It was like trying to navigate Christmas shopping in Costco with no air conditioning . We were all covered in sweat , beaten to a pulp in full zombie mode .. but wait there’s more . We wait an extra 40 minutes for the surfboards to clear oversized luggage . Now we can leave … sort of .

“ Ummm , I can get you on a 4pm flight “ , the Qantas employee advises us . It’s 1230 by this stage “ . Whatever , just get me to the lounge so I can sit down and sulk . “ . There were actually 3 seats available on the 1 pm plane , 53 people from our flight got on it , but the surfboard delay became crucial . We missed by 1 seat . Emma hates those surfboards . By this time it almost became funny , even when waiting to book in for our connecting flight there were delays as the conveyor belt moving the luggage kept stalling and broke down . The Qantas staff were noticeably agitated and sweaty . Security check before the bus ? Yep that too , our bag was pulled apart . Emma was on the edge of exploding as she repacked the bags .All four of us , Leroy included couldn’t look sideways at each other without breaking into petty argument .

We finally get out of Melbourne at 6 pm and on the road with our driver carrying our whole life belongings to a new home . It’s a typical steely grey Melbourne day , it actually wasn’t we are told but a cool change had swept in with our arrival . Not a word is spoken on the 80 minute drive to Mornington. We should be buoyant , relieved to finally be heading back home . No , it’s the pain , it’s finally kicking in . We are not going back , this is final . It’s 8 pm on Saturday night , 29 hours in transit later we are finally back in Mornington .

The hurt is deep . I write this with a lump in my throat Its a somber first night in our new place . Tex is noticeably upset . it’s hit me harder than I ever thought it would . It’ll take a long time to get over . We are grateful for the experience we’ve lived . We’ll miss Hermosa Beach and more importantly the friends we’ve made . We’ll see you again and in person too . We thank you from the bottom our heart …… I guess it’s time to move on

The final days were frantic . The weeks before that were …well sort of aloof on our part . I think a subconscious detachment develops when you know you are leaving . It’s a protective behaviour that manifests on its own . It was never going to be easy but it nearly was .

Sleep has been poor . Every morning around 2 or 3 you wake , you think , you worry and you think some more . Fortunately I don’t have a job like I did in my previous life where I had to get up just after 5 am . Usually I drift back to sleep just before 6 and then wake by 645 . That last 45 minutes is enough to allow me to function throughout the day . Every morning for the last month I wake up nervy , anxious , stuck knowing that things are going to happen soon , but until then I can’t control anything . In the last week and then days the anxiousness increases , the sleep is down to 5 hours a night , but I’m still energised , stretched taut but grinding away whilst the brain spins a loop of “ what ifs .“ In the mean time Emma works a full time high performance job, wakes every night at around 2 , organises luggage , furniture , school requirements , landlord needs , social engagements and a shitload more , before then dropping back to bed at 6 am and waking again at 7 am . I’m popping vitamins , probiotics and a host of other self help remedies whilst trying to stave off an inevitable crash in the immune system . Currently, our bodies are holding up , but still the sleep is poor .

For the last 2 weeks , actually pretty much since before Christmas we drink nightly . It’s almost like when covid hit when we all said “ fuck it , let’s party cause who’s gonna know what happens next “ . Social engagements , goodbyes and thank you’s come every 2 nd day . I feel guilty . We really haven’t been able to express our gratitude. That aloofness , the one eye always on the wheel attitude holds us at arms length . The shield is up , there’s no crying today . “ We are too busy . I give my car away to charity , I don’t get a cent for her .I’m surfing almost everyday . The gods have delivered amazing waves . It would always happen this way . In fact they’re probably as good as they’ve been since we moved here nearly 6 years ago . Are we sure we want to leave this ?

It gets to the last 24 hours . Geezus Christ how are we going to pull this off ? There’s couches , beds , furniture , bikes and surfboards to sell or give .There’s cleaning , packing , repacking , taping up and adjusting . Late morning I pause and see the task ahead . “ We can’t pull this off . “ , I declare . A manic state sets in . To purge as brutally as we have is liberating . The thrift shops can’t believe their eyes when I bring in 70% of Emma’s wardrobe . There’s literally thousands of dollars of barely worn dresses and shoes , some not even worn . Our garbage bins are full , the laneway stacked with things to take . The ability to throw stuff in the laneway and just watch it disappear is something you’d never see in Australia . People start to arrive mid afternoon to grab furniture .The last pieces disappear minutes before we leave for the airport . As night falls we begin to shower whilst either Emma and I continue to clean . Once in the hot shower that’s when it starts to hit . It’s the only time I’ve been still all day and the enormity of what we are trying pull off sets in . We are leaving the US with the shirts on our backs and not much else . Fuck are we crazy ? We are coming back home with no job, cars or furniture to fill a rental we are committed to with nearly every last cent . Leroy lands in Australia and starts High School 5 days later . We haven’t even locked in what poor old Texy is going to do .

12 suit cases , , 8 carry on bags and 4 surfboards . We are so lucky to have great friends here . 3 cars from parents of kids in Leroy’s friend group volunteer to drive us . I hate to think how else we could get everything there and at what cost . We are haemorrhaging money in the move but we knew that’s what would happen We drive off in the dark , I don’t look back . Their cars are stuffed to the brim . Even when dropped off at LAX we are still in a state of anxiety , instead of a state of gratitude and sorrow . We thank Daniela , Lindsay and Jeanie . They shed a tear , but we can’t letup , we have to stay strong and get on that plane . We also have to balance 20 bags and 4 surfboards on 3 trolleys , navigate through the always crazy Tom Bradley airport and somehow get these bags checked in . Tex thinks we are fucked , and have no hope of pulling it off . He’s adding tension to an already stressful situation . Once at the Qantas check in you can feel the eyes on us . People are looking at us like we are crazy . You can see the thought ticking away . “Are they really taking all that luggage on the plane ? “ That’s the moment when the Qantas check in crew stop and meet mid check in with our luggage . Fuck .

I’m not the person to declare “ no regrets “ . In fact I believe having regrets is a healthy reminder that you could have done things differently . “Next time I’ll change direction. “ There have been many moments in the last 6 years in LA where things could and should’ve been done differently.

Ole Mate Marcus was a classic example . I tend to be a bit gullible. Not in the sense of being conned or hoodwinked but more with giving a bit too much time to the oddball . I do tend to get drawn to them a bit . Old mate carcus would grow to be a thorn in my side . Emma holds a passionate disdain for him . The continual door knocking , messages , phone calls and hounding would drive us insane . There were many moments where he caused me grief but the one I look back and laugh at the most is the time I stupidly allowed him to take Leroy to the golf range . Leroy’s a ball kid , with really good hand eye talent . Ole mate identified it as well and thought he’d be a natural golfer . After relentless badgering I allowed him to take Leroy to the golf range . Emma was enraged when she found out . I didn’t think it was that bad until Emma reminded me of the six car accidents Ole mate had been in in just over a year . “His car is covered in dents and his door is taped on ! “ she yelled . Ok , fair point . Ole mate said Leroy was amazing and he wanted to seriously tutor him in golf and take him to the course . Emma said over her dead body . Leroy would later tell me that Marcus nearly got into a fight ( another one , people regularly threaten him ) at the golf range . I wondered how ole mate was going to afford the golf range . It turned out that the guy next door to him at the golf range reached down to grab a ball out of his 2nd bucket to discover it gone . Ole mate had slid it over to his booth and that’s how he and Leroy were able to get a good session in . Once he discovered what had happened he initially wanted to beat the shit out of Marcus , but as per usual Marcus’s age , red balding head and obnoxious but pathetic attitude disarms him enough to just complain to management. Marcus and Leroy are duly kicked out . Marcus would later complain that rich people are assholes and that he didn’t need a 2nd bucket . Eventually Marcus gets kicked out of his apartment across the road . The whole neighbourhood could not stop smiling . I block his number . Now I see him occasionally. Ummm , yeah I could’ve done that a little bit earlier , like 2 years earlier .

We made a mistake not bringing our dog over . He was a great little dog but the cost , effort and stress might have been too much . Also we thought we’d be here for only 2 years. There was the Australian quarantine to navigate as well . 6 years later we realised we should’ve brought him with us , especially knowing that this place is like a dog Mecca . Everyone has one no matter the apartment living , no backyards and small park space . The paths are always filled with people walking dogs . I oughta know I became a professional dog walker for a while . Yeah that one was a bit of a regret . Working for WAG sounded good , started good but soon enough lost it’s lustre . As a stranger retrieving frightened dogs from cages in others peoples homes soon became a chore . It wasn’t fun anymore after an escaped dog , a bitten arm and several near misses . Nope , there are better ways to love dogs .

When I clicked the button on my phone I didn’t think things would happen so quickly . Within 15 minutes I receive a phone call . I get interviewed a day later and within a week I’m at a training session for my new job . I don’t have any regrets about clicking the button , it ends up being a great job with good people and the best boss I’ve ever had . It was the schedule , Sunday nights . At first I dismissed it . Nah , it won’t happen . Before we came to America the boys and I started watching NFL games in Australia. We’d tape the Monday morning Chanel 73 forecast and watch it on Monday afternoons . I adopted the Rams . We live in LA , we may as well follow the local team . It was a good decision . The Rams are a winning team with a great coach and organisation. As a St. Kilda supporter this is a breath of fresh air . Late 2022 the Rams are starting to look a threat , not quite a title threat but still there’s an inkling that something’s brewing. I’m a glass half empty guy , geezus I barrack for St. Kilda I’m justified aren’t I ? This time I’m extra pessimistic. I’m scared , my gut intuition is saying” this is it .” I’ll miss the Super Bowl for the first time since moving here . I’m depressed about it but shit you can’t ask your new boss at your new job to have the day off so you can get drunk and watch the football with the rest of America …. “Can you ? “ I decide to stay the course . “I’ll work it , the Rams can’t beat the 49ers or the Packers . They are not tough enough “ , I declare .And then it happens , the Rams beat their bogey team in a last gasp play . They beat the San Francisco 49ers just the once in the last 4 years and go to the Super Bowl . I’m despondent . Can I at least once see a team I support win a title ? Just once ? In a quiet dark room I spend the 5 hours working at exactly the same time that the Super Bowl is on . To rub salt into the wounds it’s just 10 km away in Inglewood , at the newly built Sofi Stadium . On my lunch break i go outside and can actually here echoes of music coming from the stadium . It’s the half time show . Totally true , I can here it from work . I go back to work with messages from Emma coming through on my phone giving me constant updates but I can’t look at them I just feel the buzz on my leg . I finish work at 8 pm and look at my phone and the last message from Emma . “ They won it ! “ Oh fuck , Cincinnati has won it . When I snuck into the toilet between services Cincinnati were in front with 3 minutes remaining . The next message from Emma then said it all . THE RAMS WON ! ……. Bitter , bitter sweet . I’d missed it all . To be put it in AFL footy parlance it was like missing your team kick a goal to win the premiership in the dying seconds because you were working . The pain , the regret . I shut it out and still do ,but that hurt . The only Super Bowl I miss is the one my team wins . What are the odds ? I was still lucky enough to go and see a Rams game at Sofi Stadium . I don’t want to ruffle any feathers as an ardent Aussie rules man who has been to 3 Grand Finals but that game day experience is close to the best sporting spectacle I’ve seen . It probably is .

The regret I held the longest was moving here . I thought it was a mistake . For years I thought we had it wrong , but no I had it wrong . We’ll go home with no regrets …..yeah I know I’m totally debunking my mantra , well sort of …just this time . We’ve had an amazing experience , it wasn’t easy , we’ve made mistakes but we’ve gained way more than we’ve lost .