Technically I don’t have a Jan 31 this year
​It still feels like the 30th when I left
Right now I’m flying over the Pacific
Sydney bound
The joy of airports
The novelty of duty free
And giant Toblerones
And whiskey and gin
And oversized packets of cigarettes 
In Vancouver, it’s
Maple-flavored everything
Maple syrup, maple fudge, maple chocolate, maple short bread, maple tea.
Not hungry? Have a maple leaf on a t-shirt
Thinking about the stories of all the people around me
The humanity of it

Vicky left Australia when I was 10
Every time she called was an Event
It cost a fortune to call long distance back then
("In the late 1900s," as the kids now say
*eyeeee roll*!!!!)
It was always so special to hear her voice
The phone would be frantically passed around
"Hiiiii! Aunty Bicky! How are you? We miss you! We love you!" 
And now I live on the other side of the world 
And tonight my sister called me
And we chatted for 5 minutes while she walked to her car 
She filled me in on what she was buying everyone for Christmas
And the call was free
We could have chatted on video if we wanted to
And how extraordinary that in my lifetime
Computers have gone from being giant hulking blocks 
To tiny machines that fit in our pockets
That allow instant communication from New York to Sydney
And I so rarely feel homesick 
But this year Christmas is different
It's my first time without my husband 
Because he's not my husband any more 
And I miss him 
And everything has changed
And no amount of technology can bridge the gap in between 

Oh London
You gorgeous magical lovely wonderful creature
I don’t want to go home
I want to keep wandering the streets
And re-discovering all your secrets
I promise to be back

​Dinner with Aussie cousins
Catching up after several years apart
Delightful conversation and delicious food

I’d never much understood
The restorative properties of
“The English Seaside”
That you read about in books
And see in movies
But after a few days in Cornwall
I totally get it

Today, first stop, St Ives
A pilgrimage of sorts
I expected a little countryside village
But it’s on the coast
A seaside town populated by beach going tourists
We stopped for a truly delicious coffee and hot chocolate in a narrow side street cafe
Tourists and locals, families and older folks,  Hipster couples
And a plethora of puppies
We wandered the streets
And popped into the pretty stores
Full of local glassware and pottery
Beachside paraphernalia
And paintings of the view
We had a delightful seaside picnic
Sitting on a little wall down from the walkway

And then we drove past Penzance
(Tarantara!)
To the Minack Theatre
Oh what a place!
The way Rowena Cade carved the seats into the very rock and
Hauled bags of sand from the beach
To build her theatre on the cliff
Imagining the magical and terrifying Tempest that was performed there almost 100 years ago
What was it like to walk down those steep steps guided by lamps powered by car batteries?!
And the view!
Every time I looked up it took my breath away
The sheerness of it
The grandness of it
The drama of it!
And then home for dinner
A delicious seafood stew
Being made to feel so special in the way only your aunty who has known you forever and practically raised you can

The coastal path from Polperro to Looe
(Pronounced “Loo”)
The gorgeous steep cliffs
The sweeping views of the sea
The path lined by blackberry brambles
(Did you know that a blackberry bramble growing intertwined with a rose bush will produce blackberries that have a hint of rose?!)
It was hot and humid - I was sweating buckets
(Abuela: “Horses sweat, people perspire”)
It was gorgeous
Vistas so beautiful they took my breath away

We got to Looe and
Dipped our feet into the freezing cold water
A welcome respite from the heat

Lunch at a quintessentially British cafe
Bunting and tea cups and an older British dear who panicked at having to make a flat white and a macchiato
(I bet she could do a mean tea though)

Wandering the streets and alleyways of Polperro
Climbing up to the rock
And looking out to the sea
And back at the village
Watching the kids and kids at heart
Jumping off the pier
Learning about Cornish piskeys and Devon pikseys
And Joan the Wad
The Queen of the Cornish piskeys

Seafood stew for dinner
Mochi for dessert
Falling into bed
Tired and happy

​Getting to see Vicky after 8 whole years
And Trevor after 11
Being in Polperro
Falling asleep to the sound of the ocean
Bliss.

Being somewhere else
You better understand where you come from
Along the Thames
The parks are packed with people enjoying the weather
It’s 31°C/90F
My inner Aussie is thrilled
Finally! Proper summer!
The Brits are confused by the heat
A couple walks by
The husband: look at all the people out!
The wife: oh it’s lovely. Like a holiday!
Four businessmen in matching blue shirts who definitely earn a lot of money wander by
Gleefully licking ice cream cones

There’s a softness to London after living in the US
Traipsing across the city
Re-awakens the desire to be a full-time flanuese
The history of it
The delight of it
The way it’s so recognizable
The way you come across tiny unexpected pockets
Mews and squares and alleyways
And 19th, 18th, 17th century buildings
Walking back through time
It helps the weather has been heavenly

The best day ever?!
Breakfast with Katie
Lunch with Julia
Operation Mincemeat matinee
Hilariously funny and devastating and brilliantly executed
My seat mate, the only other masked person in the building
It was nice to share the show with them
The exquisite torture of a missed connection
Walking across the Thames
Past South Bank
Wave to St Paul’s back across the river
Dinner at Lantana - “a little piece of Australia in London”
The Third Man at the Menier Chocolate Factory
Such fun to see Tom performing again
I’d told him I’d watch him move chairs for Trevor Nunn
But I didn’t expect Trevor Nunn to be in the building
Or shouting the cast to a post-show champagne
Grabbing a drink at the pub
(Drinking in the UK is so much nicer than in the US)
And then walking back across the Thames and ending up on the steps of St Paul’s
Ten years of catching up
And saying until next time
When they turned out the lights at 1am.