I left with a backpack

I left with a backpack, an electronic air-ticket and a booking at a backpackers. I wasn’t sure at first why I would want to do something like that, but deep inside I think I had a pretty good idea; I was looking for something… …

So I managed to catch my flight to Sydney last Thursday morning with VirginBlue. Essentially, anything that has to do mornings will get me as enthusiastic as watching paint dry. I guess that is pretty much the theme of the trip, no planning, no expectations and see what happens. Perhaps I was setting myself up to do something which I had always struggled to; be spontaneous. I guess I did alright, because after checking into the backpackers, I decided to roam Sydney. By the time I got to the Sydney Harbour Bridge, I decided to climb it. I must admit there was a certain voice in me that suggested, “perhaps it is a little too windy today; perhaps tomorrow would be a better choice….etc etc.” That is the planning voice speaking, it is that voice that got me thus far in my studies, but listening too much to that voice will render me a dull boring academic. I succumbed to the alternate inner-self instead, that is the voice that typically gets me in trouble, or really drunk. $165 for the bridge climb; not really what I would call value for money especially when the stated 3hr climb comprised more of theoretical embellishment rather than the climb itself. I guess the experience was a bit like visiting the Eiffel tower; been there, done that and never do it again.

Probably one of the biggest rewards of the trip was to meet new people. I shared room with two Scotsmen and an English. Waking in the morning was like opening your eyes, or ears to comedy fest galore. I was as fascinated with the Scots’ accent as they were fascinated that I could actually understand them. They were a laugh; it was not what they said, but the way they said it. Nevertheless, it was the English whom I found a mate in. Maj is an English-born Indian that speaks with a London accent, a combination that feels almost mismatched. My initial impression with these boys was that, well, they were boys; backpacking globetrotters that were only concerned with booze and getting laid. It was not till later that I had breakfast (yes I actually had breakfast) with Maj that I realised that he was a pretty nice bloke to talk with. Maj seemed enthralled with all my radical opinion about culture, politics and religion. I never thought of myself as being a man with broad horizons, but the compliments Maj paid me about my open-mindedness gave me a sensation of self-approval; a sensation that I have not felt for a very long time.

The second evening in Sydney was reserved for doc. He is definitely my closest Aussie friend. This is not going to come out right, but the nights we shared in Paris were just unbelievable. Well he was my roommate during the study trip and we are probably the only roommates that still keep in touch with each other. Doc is married now, and he is doing ever so well. His dry wit sense of humour was still intact and it was certainly an evening promised with laughter, especially when we shared two bottles of wine. His apartment was amazing. Only 5 mins away from Darling Harbour I thought I was at Wayne’s mansion when I walked in. He had his own concierge for crying out loud, a two story high library with a fireplace and a hidden doorway where he kept his Batmobile. I was introduced to the missus and all I can say is that I am very happy for doc. He is a lucky man; and deservingly so.

The third evening in Sydney was…… well, breathtaking. There is a certain someone whom I have not met for a year and a half. And it was through this person that I found myself again at times when my assurance was lost. This part of the trip is probably best left for another entry, because emotional escapees are best left to the flow of words in a moment of sentimental introspection.

In a nutshell, a backpack, an air ticket and a booking at a backpackers marked more than short trip for a holiday. I was really there because I thought I lost something… …. me. It will continue to bewilder the mind should I attempt to reason if I have found what I was looking for, because the journey of finding that astute self is a perpetual quest. Least I could say is that I was left with an experience, despite being a pretty short one, that reminded me that a certain self-assurance still resides somewhere within, needing only good faith for me to draw strength from.