My Spiritual Home

I have been lucky enough to travel around the world all my life. As I said in yesterday’s post, my parents worked abroad from the time I was 6 months old to the time I was 5 years old. On our way back to the UK, which was by ship, we spent two weeks in Australia. I remember those two weeks very clearly, more clearly than anything else on that amazing journey to the UK.

The memories are somewhat episodic, as you would expect given my age. However, I can remember that we docked at Perth and stayed in a hotel. The first thing that I remember is coming down to the TV room along with a number of other children to watch the cartoon version of The Fantastic Four! I have never seen it before or since, though I would love to, but I still remember my reaction to it very well. I was gripped by a completely different style of programme and I wasn’t alone when watching it, so there was a kind of shared excitement. Outside of the hotel I remember feeding the black swans in a park in Perth. I had never seen anything like them before and they were fascinating to me, as every swan I’d seen in the stories was white. Finally, I remember going to a beach in a place called Broome where the sand on the beaches was red. For years I had a seashell from that beach with the red sand clinging to it as a reminder, but that got lost in one of my moves.

This early experience ignited my passion for the country and gave me a lifelong yearning to return. I have returned three times so far and on one of those occasions I took a Masters Degree at the University of Wollongong. Like my Dad, I got offered a job there, and like my Dad I had to turn it down. I still have a feeling, however, that my time with Australia is not done.