Home Sweet Home

The concept of ‘home’ is interesting. Is your home where you live? Or where you spend most of your time? Or where you grew up? Or where you came from? Or simply, where you are most happy? There is definitely a difference between a house and a home.

As the saying goes, ‘A house is made of bricks and stone but a home is made of love’. But of course, having those bricks and stone certainly does help. To former couple, Alex Ebert and Jade Castrinos; who duet as part of Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zero’s song ‘Home’, ‘’Home is wherever I’m with you.’’ And when Buble sings, ‘’I wanna go home,’’ his words evoke much more than an image of an abode.

Home and housing has never meant more to me than since I decided to move out of the family home (where I’d happily lived for 22 years-besides the month long stints at a caravan park (trailer trash!), the house across the road and a sparse share house in the northeast of WA)and halfway across the world to London.

At first I lived out of a backpack and spent most nights sleeping in bunk beds in hostels. The life of a traveller isn’t so much that you’re homeless, but rather, constantly on the move. Home meant, to me at this time, unequivocally Perth.  When the time came to settle in London I found myself facing the dilemma of figuring out where I would actually now live, something that I hadn't really thought about until then, Only due to my own unpreparedness if course. We’d never actually decided when we would stop exploring Europe and start living in London so there wasn’t really much of a plan in place. So began the dossing on my sister’s couch, the timing worked out well that she was going home for Gavin’s wedding so I could then take her room and pay her share of the rent for a few weeks.

This was when house hunting could begin.  A loose plan was formed where, as Jen’s housemates were heading home to Perth, she and I would set-up a new place with a third housemate. We had time to on our hands to make this a more concrete plan and thought it would be easier to coordinate once she returned from Aus. That is, we did have plenty of time, until Halloween. I left London to visit Mollie in Glasgow where I had a fantastic time with uni students. In the Sunday, the day after Halloween (the day before I was to return), Jen’s housemates called me to tell me that during the night before there had been a fire at the flat and we could no longer live in it.

This is when I found myself both homeless and jobless. I returned to London and stayed one night at a hotel (pretending to be Jenny) where her housemates were staying. Then I was very kindly put up by Jen’s friend, Janet whilst an alternative was figured out. The alternative ended up being Janet’s friends who had a spare room that I could rent whilst their housemate worked outside of London. So this is where I first set up (temporary) roots. From here I began my search for both work and somewhere to live so that I could really start my life in London. Those weeks (that I know so many antipodeans go through) where I was homeless and jobless were hard. I can understand why some people think it’s all too hard. But I definitely did NOT want to go home. Home, being Perth of course, the thought of leaving didn’t even cross my mind but it was a disheartening time. House hunting isn’t the easiest experience at the best of times.  To find something you like, at a good price, with people that you can see yourself getting along with can sometimes feel like a miracle! And it often happens that the stars align and all these elements are in place…and then you find out someone else has already got the room! I saw this happen to some good friends last year as they struggled through a difficult living situation. It involved them not actually having a home-quite awkward really. And the person whose house they stayed at didn’t actually know they were both there. And the shower didn’t work! So there was some sneaking around involved. Made the whole house hunt a little bit more stressful, to say the least!    And there are also quite a number of people who advertise rooms to then just ask you for money (as they are overseas so if you put the money in their account they will send you the key….um, no thanks!)as part of a scam to rip you off. So it’s understandable how it can be stressful, even just finding the time to view rooms isn’t easy. There is the option of setting up a place of your own, which usually means spending a lot more money than if you were to move into an already established house. Or there are people who ‘doss’ and only rent rooms in the short-term, although in my opinion you never really feel settled or that anywhere feels like your home. Personally, I feel like I’ve done it all!

I was coordinating with people here and at home and felt that things would fall into place. I’d started working at the pub and bookstore and a plan was formulated where Jen and I would move into a modern flat in Southfields, the area where I was currently living and had grown a liking for. My friend, Hannah, was moving over in December so she moved her flight forward a little bit to join us in our new place. Good plan. But, as we all know, even the best laid plans don’t always work out. And in this case it was Hannah. After three weeks in England she was on a flight back to Perth. So now we had the house, but not the people. This was another stressful time, mainly in relation to money, and in order to try and make life easier I moved into the smaller room and a friend of Jen’s friend moved into my old room. So we had a housemate!

By now I had started a relationship with Liam and we would split our time between the pub, where he lived and worked, and my flat. Gradually I spent more and more time at the pub. Without going into too much melodramatic and emotional detail, there were a few aspects of my life that weren’t really working out. I love my sister to bits and feel that since she moved over to London we’ve started talking more and are closer than ever. However living together was not the easiest experience in the world. (NB: Everything worked out beautifully though and we are very happy now.) Anyway I did eventually officially move out of our flat and into Liam’s pub. Why I moved in with him after we’d had a break up and the relationship was rather flawed is a whole other story! But anyway, my new ‘home’ was now above a pub on a main road in Wandsworth. Living above a pub is quite an experience and certainly a fun one! But not one I could do forever. It’s great because it’s full of life, there’s always someone to hang out and have a chat with, or locals and staff to head out with after their shift had finished. Although I was working full time I wasn’t exactly having a professional career and if I was I think this could be a difficult environment to live in. I’m also glad it wasn’t the pub where I still worked as I think living and working in the same place might be a bit much, for me. However it was great fun, especially in summer. The flat above the pub had a roof balcony and we had a great time up their drinking drinks from the off-licence, cooking food on the BBQ and swimming in a paddling pool. Albeit all the fun I knew I would not be there forever and soon enough I was moving again.

This time I just looked on Gumtree and found a place I liked the look of, went to check it (and its inhabitants) out and decided to move in. This is where I live now. I sleep in a shoebox but it’s a lovely flat with a big living room and kitchen and a good price, which is all inclusive, so I’m happy with it. My housemates are a couple; a kiwi guy and Hungarian girl, and another girl from Perth, who surprisingly enough I have no mutual friends with! Although they’re all a little older than me, we get along great and enjoy sitting on the couch with a glass of wine watching quality television shows like, ‘Take me Out’. Good times.

So, after having a place burn down, a flat not work out and a stint above a pub I finally found somewhere I’m content. Although, I don’t think I’ll be here forever. I have just started a new job in North London and think I may just carry on the theme of 2011 so far, change. We shall see.

All that is just about where I live though, what I consider home is a whole other story. Home home (the double is on purpose) remains Perth. However I remember being surprised at myself last year as I was discussing booing my flight back from Greece, I said, ‘’I still have to book a flight home.’’ I then realised that actually, it’s true, for now, London is home. And the more time I spend there, the more people I meet and experiences I have, the more it seems harder to imagine living anywhere else. This brings me to my next point. As I now finish writing this blog entry, whilst on a plane heading to the Southern hemisphere, I have to seriously consider what it’s actually like to be going HOME.

I often hear stories from people who say that whilst you’re away and you change, your hometown does not. The same people spend time with the same people, at the same places doing the same things. I’m not so sure. As my portal to the world back home (facebook) indicates many of my friends lives have changed in the past 19 months. So I wonder where I’m going to fit in.

To this new place that is my old home.

*I started writing this blog entry quite some time ago. However I didn’t want to finish or post it as I thought it might ruin the surprise. That being, my decision to come home and surprise my family and friends for a summer holiday. Yes, that’s right, I’m HOME SWEET HOME.*

And now...

For your viewing pleasure!

That's one hot mama!

''That's a MILF if I've ever seen one!''

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Unlucky for some.

I have written before about the number 13. Being born on Friday the 13^th I always believe that whilst the number had certain connotations and, was perhaps unlucky for some people, for me, it was going to be lucky and special!

Then my Dad passed away on a Friday the 13^th and I couldn’t figure out what the universe was trying to tell me. I couldn’t really go around saying how wonderful I thought the number 13 was anymore, could i?

My most recent posts have been about my planned trip to New York and everything that went wrong. However I hope I haven’t come across as a negative Nancy in them. I ended up having a fabulous festive season, in both London and New York! Everything that went wrong during this time was simply bad luck, it wasn’t anybody’s fault that it snowed and we were on the only cancelled flight of that day. There was no one to blame when the blizzard happened in New York and more flights were cancelled. It was all down to chance and luck. And it seemed like I wasn’t experiencing a lot of good luck. Until things changed…..

This is where I’m curious as it feels like someone, somewhere, must’ve been looking out for us! I’m not a huge believer in religion but I do have faith…I’m just not sure what I have faith in. I think humans are both fucked and amazing. Therefore I have faith in humanity but have always wondered if there’s anything else…out there. Anyway I don’t want this to be a question of the existence of higher beings etc., but since experiencing death in my life more than I ever imagined at this age I’m open to the notion that people don’t disappear forever. I don’t know where they go or what form they would be in, or even if they exist in any capacity at all! But when my luck changed I felt that it might have something to do with Dad. Things began looking up when the airline staff member managed to get our names on the standby list and yet she didn’t even know how she’d done it! We then checked in at desk number….13. And our gate was also number 13! Our seats were number….12. Ok so not quite, but close! I don’t know if any of that means anything at all but it is nice to think that the number 13 has, recently, begun to be lucky for me again. 

Dad and I (more than 13 years ago).

Not quite according to plan.

That’s how the trip to New York ended up going. After the initial cancellation and drama of getting a new flight on Boxing Day we felt a lot more positive, so instead of focusing on how much the situation sucked I slapped on a smile and had a good time. This meant heading out and having a good time with my London friends.

On the Wednesday (when I was supposed to be flying) I had lunch at Jenny’s where we investigated all our possible options, resulting in the booking of our Boxing Day flight (thanks Brayton for lending us your credit card!). That night I needed a glass of wine and some good company. So I had exactly that with Roxy. Well not exactly. It was more like 2 bottles of wine and an entire chocolate cake (not a big one though) shared in her bed, until Quade came home and I met up with Gemma at the pub. We then went to a gay bar where the drag queens made fun of us and we danced the night away surrounded by sweaty men (who for some reason couldn’t help but take their clothes off!). Thursday night Roxy, Lee, Nat and I went to Shepherd’s Bush where we taught Nat, who had arrived from Australia that week, about 'strawpedos' at the Walkabout. We then went over to a Middle Eastern style bar to have wine and shisha with Amina and her friends who were enjoying pre-Christmas drinks. From there we headed to a club that was actually underneath the green! I guess that’s what you call an underground club. It’s ‘members only’ and obviously tries to have an air of exclusivity about it, you walk down a set of stairs where there’s a door at the bottom that looks like a regular house front door and you ring a door bell to be let in. But only if you’re names on the list! Luckily we were all good and Robbie even used my name again later when he met up with us so they’re obviously not really that strict or observant about it. So that was a cool place to get down and dirty to dub-step and drum and bass. The following night was Christmas Eve and I’d actually asked if the pub needed me to work because I was a little bit worried about the fact that I no longer had a job and had started using my designated New York money….luckily they needed me so I ’worked’ that night. Christmas spirit was in the air and many of us got merry and had a jolly time. The next morning my housemates and I had a Christmas brunch with bucks fizz and gifts. The gifts were from under the tree that Chris had noticed, on the street after finishing his day of work, and brought home on the bus. I then made sure I was fully packed for New York because I wasn’t going to be returning home. I got a taxi to Brayton’s house where Jen was waiting and we then went to Todd and Hayley’s for Christmas lunch. It was a really lovely day, I’ve known Todd my entire life, and he is family so it wasn’t a completely random day. Hayley and he have a lovely apartment in Brixton and were very generous by inviting us at the last minute knowing our plans had been ahhh…..slightly fucked up. Courtney, Haley’s sister was visiting from Perth so along with their London friends, Cam and Jess we all shared a delicious meal, a lot of drinks and some party games. The night ended with us struggling to keep our eyes open in front of classic Christmas films, such as Anchorman.  All in all, not a bad Christmas.

I know Mum was incredibly grateful that Todd (her best friend’s son) and Hayley were there for us and to say thanks she has given Jen and I some of her leftover American dollars so that we would all go out for a night on the town, on her. So this Saturday Jenny, Brayton, Todd, Hayley, Steven and I will be going to dinner where we will enjoy a 3 course meal and entertainment in the form of acrobats and fire-breathers, amongst others. Should be interesting. Thanks Mama Dowdeswell!

After spending Christmas night at Brayton’s we awoke the next morning with both excitement and nervousness. Jen logged onto the British Airways website to check our flight and…..cancelled. A blizzard had been predicted in New York and was causing more chaos for the airlines. So began the calling of the airline to see what could be done. Once again they were lovely and actually managed to get us on another flight that day, an earlier one, so we got ourselves dressed and jumped in a taxi to make out way to Heathrow. Once there everything went smoothly, got through security, checked in, left out bags and went to have some food in a café. We sat in the waiting area patiently waiting for our gate to be announced. They say a watched pot never boils; well a watched screen never seems to change. We noticed Virgin had cancelled all their flights to New York but our BA/American Airlines flight was still on there. Constantly glancing at the screen did not make a gate number appear, it did however cause me to ask Jenny to remind me what our flight number was. Oh that’s right. So it is the one that now has the word cancelled flashing next to it with the advice to go to the airline desk. Great.

We found American Airlines, along with a whole lot of other people, and queued up to be told that the best they could do was put us on a different flight in a couple of days and maybe we could try and get on standby for another flight in the morning. Basically guaranteeing us nothing. Because we had somewhere to stay in London we were not eligible to be put up in a hotel for the night and were told to go to baggage claim to get our bags and make our way home. Easier said than done, apparently. Once we finally found where our luggage was (in a pile on the floor near a carousel) we discovered that my bag seemed to have been further damaged and the handle would not extend so I could no longer wheel it. We then had to go through customs and security to get out, where they made us fill out a landing card. We hadn’t even left the airport! From here we had a journey home as the tube workers were having a strike and running a reduced service. Not only that, but when we went to get off at our station we found out they had closed it do to the smell of gas. So we found ourselves on the street trying to find a bus that would take us near where we wanted to end up. A couple of buses later we were back at Todd and Hayley’s picking up Brayton’s keys so we could spend another night at his (was rather nice of him and his housemates to let us stay there even though all 4 of them were away!).  The next morning we awoke around 6am as this is when the phone lines with BA/AA opened and we wanted to see what we could do. The advice was to not bother going to the airport, there’s not much point as they were still trying to clear people out from the week before and those people would be the ones who got standby tickets. Not very promising but we felt that going to the airport was a lot more proactive than just sitting around twiddling our thumbs. At least then we felt like we were actually doing something, anything, to get us there sooner! So we made our way to Heathrow via the tube, I had repacked and was using a small suitcase of Brayton’s that luckily had a working handle and wheels! Once there we found a massive queue of people, most in the same position as us, some having only had their flights cancelled that day. When we finally got to the front of the queue and got to speak to someone she was incredibly nice but once again, there wasn’t a lot she could do. Her comment was, ‘I don’t understand why people plan travel at this time of year!’ my response? ‘We’re Australian; we don’t factor snow into the potential ruining of our travel plans!’

Anyway I wish I remembered her name because this lady deserves major kudos. She had to uncheck our baggage from the day before and then….she got us on standby for a flight! She said she didn’t even know how she’d done it but she managed to put our names second on the list. Then she told us we better hurry to get ourselves checked in but could go straight over to a free desk, skipping the line. When we got there they told us to go to the back of the line because our security check from the day before was no longer valid as we’d left the airport. The line was more like a massive crowd of people, chaotic. Obviously everyone was quite concerned with getting checked in to their flights to America and the staff member who was supposed to be helping and directing people was useless. Anyway we eventually got through and told the girl we were on a flight, we figured if we acted casual and confident she might not notice that we weren’t actually on the flight but were on standby. This didn’t work exactly as we noticed our bags were stickered with bright yellow stickers saying standby. Oh well we were one step closer.

By now Brayton had met us on his way home from his Christmas holiday and the three of us sat in the pub having lunch, once again waiting for a gate to be announced. This time a gate number was announced and we headed off to try our luck. At the gate was yet another longgggg line of people so we jumped on the end and hoped for the best. People with confirmed tickets were being taken out of the line and let onto the plane, however the line didn’t seem to be getting any smaller, basically this was a lot of people hoping to be given standby seats. The staff then made the point that where you were in the line would not make any difference; it was where your name was on the list that mattered. So we decided to sit on the floor under some air-conditioning-it was stifling in there! You cannot imagine how we felt when the second name called out was Dowdeswell! So exciting! We made our way to the front to be given our tickets. Well I was able to get mine, Jen was not. Her security sticker had fallen off her passport (apparently the Aussie passports are notorious for this!) so they told her she had to go back through security. I had been given my ticket (and told we were sitting together) so now I just had to wait for her. Ahhhhh, so close but still not quite there! This seemed to be the pattern of our entire journey, one step forward, two steps back. When Jen did come through we made our way onto the plane and noticed that our seats were rather close to the front. As in, business class!! We were so excited! Business class was AMAZING. Very different to economy, that’s for sure! We were given sparkling wine before take-off, could choose from a varied and delicious menu, drank as much alcohol as we liked, had an unlimited choice of movies and TV shows, had seats that turned into beds basically and even our headphones were better quality. We felt so grateful!

Although nothing was guaranteed, basically when we left London, JFK Airport was still closed. The captain was simply hoping that it would open whilst we were in the air. He kept giving us updates as we flew. Eventually one runway was opened up and couple of hours later we found ourselves in New York. We then had to sit on the tarmac for over an hour as there was a bit of a traffic jam. Out the window we could see the snow ploughs moving the snow, and there was a lot of it! Apparently 20 inches of snow had fallen on Boxing Day! Once we were eventually inside and through security we went to collect our bags….unfortunately many bags had not made it across the Atlantic, one of them being Jenny’s. So we added that to the issues that we had to deal with…..but it didn’t dampen our spirits too much as we were finally there!

And once again all four Dowdeswell women were together.

Us at the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park.

I wish....

I wrote more.

I just deleted the rest of this post......
Which seems an oxymoron after making the point of the blog post that I want to write on here more.
But that is the point. Just that one sentence.

I wish I wrote more.

Perhaps that can be the New Years resolution I didn't make! I shall write more postcards, emails, blog posts, cards, lists.....

Basically, I will write more.