On my first morning in Oz I woke up at 6am following a fitful but exhaustive sleep, head clogged with Jetlag.
I contemplated closing my eyes again, before concluding that getting up was probably the quickest way to bring my brain back to functionality. So I wandered around the house in the quietness of early morning before trailing to the beach in my running gear.
I know it’s not the first thought most people would have, but it is what it is.
I love European jet lag. LOVE. IT. If European jet lag was a food, I would eat it daily, if it was a cream, I would lather it all over myself, and if it was an alcoholic drink, I would be perpetually intoxicated. Probably not many people say that they love jet lag, but let me be clear on the type of jet lag I’m talking about here – I’m talking about the jet lag you get when you travel from Australia to Europe, not the other way round (west, not east).