Writer Charlotte Ward charts her travels and reveals all about the highs and lows of her new life Down Under. As well as her regular blog on iVillage.co.uk, you can follow Charlotte on Twitter and also catch her at www.charlotteward.net
I’m leaving on a jet plane
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In the last couple of years there have been some big changes in my life. In my early adulthood I just assumed that 30 was this magic number where I’d be a ‘proper grown up’ with boxes for mortgages, marriage and babies rapidly being ticked. Well I bought my own flat (go me!) but the rest, it has transpired, is still work in progress.
Unfortunately, the theme of 2011 is that I’ve grown increasingly tired of incessant comments about my biological clock - whether it be from newspaper articles, family friends or just some random chap on a night out ('So are you fertile?' he asked. Some boys have the best chat.)
I’m painfully aware that I am 33 and of course I have ingested the fertility facts about women my age. But in truth I don’t think I am ready to settle down - and even if I was I can’t conjure up a husband and baby from thin air.
So rather than allowing myself to grow increasingly despondent or to be bullied into a clone-like life plan that seems to be so expected of women in their 30s I decided to do something different.
I didn’t go travelling in my 20s as I was too busy working hard and trying to make a name for myself as a writer. But in the past year or so I’ve done an epic road trip around America and Canada, checked out the Aussie Great Barrier Reef on my own, reported on the floods in Brisbane, had a blast rock-climbing and zip-lining in the Atlas Mountains in Morocco and felt utterly and blissfully blessed as I took in astonishing scenery sea-kayaking in Thailand.
Back home in London I also made an effort to enjoy little interesting days out to amuse myself whether it be hopping on a canal boat at Camden lock, shoveling coal into a steam train engine at Victoria station at 8am or having a horse riding lesson for the first time in 20 years.
All I know is there is nothing worse than that sluggish feeling when I am sat at home doing nothing with my day. So back in June I did the gutsiest thing I have done to date: I booked a ticket to fly to the other side of the world for a six month stint working in Sydney combined with exploring as much of Oz as possible.
Granted, it’s not exactly finding myself in India or volunteering in Cambodia but it’s certainly a start.
After booking my ticket I veered between empowered excitement and abject fear. The nightmare of decluttering my flat quickly made me realise that not only am I the world's worst hoarder but I really don't need 90 per cent of my belongings: airplane toothbrush kits, shoe boxes, RNIB key rings, you name it, I've squirrelled them away.
After swearing as I found yet another bag of tat tucked at the back of the wardrobe I vowed that it would be a minimalist life from now on (Well, famous last words and all that…)
Finally the big day arrived and I made my way to Gatwick straining under the weight of my 30 kilos of luggage (it would only fit in my case after I sat on it) and jetted off to the southern hemisphere.
So now here I am in Sydney taking in the world, scaring myself a little and waiting to see what new adventures come my way…
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