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As of 2021, I am 56 years old and about to embark on a new chapter in my life. The idea of a major change has been at the back of my mind for a couple of years now and during that time I have played with a variety of ideas and different futures that I could perhaps step into. My thoughts and emotions have oscillated between the good, the bad and the terrifying but there is no doubt that to stay doing the same thing in the same place is definitely not an enticing option. On good days I have been filled with optimism and excitement and can clearly see Ian and myself travelling the globe, visiting exotic locations, speaking new languages and re-finding that natural curiosity and keenness to explore that we are all born with. On bad days, doubts at the prospect of giving up everything that we, as a couple, have built over the last quarter of a century have been hard to ignore and there have been many OMG moments that acknowledge an end to our comfortable, controlled existence that has provided us with far more than we ever imagined. I am certainly not an energised 20-something any more and there is every possibility that I am having a mid-life crisis and this will be the biggest mistake ever.

The good days obviously outnumbered the bad because we are now about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime and head off into the world with our Land Rover Defender and Rottweiler Leroy. Our plan is to drive around the world at least once.

So, what brought me to this point?

I was brought up in North Wales, a beautiful part of the UK close to Snowdonia National Park and the coastal resort of Llandudno. Mine was a pretty regular upbringing, the highlight of which was the annual family holiday that involved towing our small caravan to various camping parks around the country where we spent a fair bit of time crowded round a tiny portable television which was sat on an equally tiny pull-out table, waiting for the rain to stop. Surely there was more out there than this. I was in my mid-20s, armed with a 2 year secretarial qualification and husband number one, before I left Wales and headed for London. We didn’t quite get to London but lived and worked in Milton Keynes for a couple of years before separating and I continued on to London. Here I worked for 5 years in a merchant bank in the City and it was during this time that I met Ian, my current husband. A work colleague was leaving the Bank and had invited his friend from University to join us for drinks at a champagne bar overlooking the winter ice rink near Liverpool Street Station. I noticed Ian straight away. It could have been that his pastel pink chinos really stood out amid the sea of navy and dark grey suits along with his complete indifference to the fact, but whatever it was we spent most of the evening covering a variety of topics including the need to separate whites and colours when doing the laundry. Perhaps I gave him the idea that I was the domestic goddess he was looking for, as we were engaged within 18 months and married shortly after. That same year we applied for, and were granted, Australian visas, resigned from our jobs, rented out our flat in Dulwich, SE24, and caught the tube to Heathrow where we hopped on a flight to Lima, Peru. This was the start of 11 months travelling to a new life in Australia.

We were moving to Australia for a number of reasons. We had an idea that the cost of living would be cheaper than in the UK, the lifestyle would be more carefree given the increase in sunshine hours and Ian’s twin sister lived just outside Sydney, which gave us a base. We hoped for the opportunity to accumulate enough financial security to see us through the rest of our lives.

The journey to Australia was pretty typical of a low budget back-packing experience and we spent 6 months in South America, a couple of months in Africa and the remainder of the time travelling through Malaysia, Singapore and Indonesia. We spent many nights in our small tent and the entire trip was definitely life changing for me. The sense of freedom was like nothing I had experienced before. More than just living without an eternal list of jobs to do and bills to pay, the lack of possessions and the accompanying responsibility of caring for them was an astonishingly liberating discovery. I also observed a marked difference in the people we encountered. Gone was the unsmiling, frantic pace of life witnessed in London, instead, people who at first sight might appear to be lacking in many “essential” comforts and possessions were the happiest people I had ever come across. This realisation really struck a chord as, up to this point, I had been conditioned towards materialistic accumulation, the achievement of which would surely bring me security and happiness. Instead, I now had a bicycle (purchased in Malaysia), a backpack containing everything I owned and not a care in the world. During a particularly arduous cycle up a mountain in Sumatra, I made a promise to myself that whatever happened in the future I would make every effort to return to this nomadic lifestyle.

And so here I am, fast approaching 60 and hoping to revisit my former self.