Southern India is a hot, sticky mess. Houses slant huddled together, hacked into sharp edges, snuggled by the encroaching jungle and its mess of fronds, tangles and branches. Sand seeps relentlessly through bare earth and discarded rubbish litters the landscape like moon rocks.
Visiting the London area in the past (eg. When I was living in Australia) was always a bit of a lowlight. Not bad, of course, just not as exciting as the rest of the trip.
It was a place that was easy, where I knew the language and had friends to stay with. It was a rest stop, a place to recuperate. Or it was simply the most practical or cheapest place to fly in and out of.
You imagine that when you finally meet your future husband there might be some kind of sign, or at least a night so perfect, never before eclipsed by previous dates etc. etc. I’m sorry to say that it definitely wasn’t the case with us!
Being landlocked in Austria can sometimes give me a hint of cabin-fever, however it’s reassuring to know that if I really need to get to the coast for some salty, sea air, it’s only a couple of hours away… and as an added bonus… it’s in Italy.
an aussie in austria 