Hold the phones … I found a home!!
It started with a McChicken.
Well actually … more accurately it started with a psychic.
Either way 365 days ago today, not only to the day, but to the hour I left my home in London in search of a home. I was a mixture of lost and hurt and shocked simply moving through the motions I had been dreading for years. 365 days ago today I rode the tube to Heathrow Airport with the rain pouring down and arrived wet, cold and miserable. 365 days ago today I left with absolutely no idea what the future held with the knowledge that more than anything I wanted to find a home. And that’s the funny thing about a home … sometimes home has a heartbeat.
In what can only be described as an eerie coincidence I find myself in exactly the same position some two years in a row. On the 25th of August of both 2014 and 2015 I have flown from Heathrow Airport at 6pm in the evening over to the Americas. The first time I was rushed out the door before I was ready, the weather matched my mood and I was seeking respite with some of the many friends I have around the world. I carried the knowledge that I was at the most lost point I will ever likely be within my life and that I needed to look only as far as the step directly in front of me. As long as I kept moving, slowly, my world would not fall apart.
Perhaps it was this mindset paired with curiosity that lead me to wander in to see a psychic. Desperate to hear blessings were to come I put my skepticism aside and allowed someone to talk to me about my future. My expectations were low, of both what would be predicted and this person’s ability to even predict. I am at heart a science-based, rational person after all. Surprisingly this woman whipped out some very specific and detailed insight into my life thus far. Resisting the urge for my jaw to drop open I listened intently. She spoke of my having left Australia some two years prior and my current search for a new home – I couldn’t believe it! Everything she spoke of was specific and accurate and she had certainly gotten my attention. Now that she had won over my skepticism and trust she moved on to the predictions.
I would be in a relationship within 6 months.
At the point I nearly laughed out loud. Me? In a relationship. Given my track record of having been single for a decade (yes my WHOLE adult life) and my general ability to send men running for the hills the idea of someone entering into a relationship with me voluntarily was nothing short of cray-zay in my mind. It was such a shame too as she seemed to have really proven herself to me. But with that outrageous prediction, I picked my belongings up and chuckled to myself as I walked out the door. “In a relationship by April 2015?” I thought to myself; that woman has lost her mind.
Two months later I found myself hiking in Peru. When you travel you meet an array of people, all of whom have a transient role within your life. Very few people you meet travelling move past being a feature within your life to become a main character. One of the many people I met was a Canadian man who hiked alongside me in the Colca Canyon. We had spent the day chatting and it appeared we were on a similar path, which given my style of travel (no plans, no timeframe) was actually very rare. During this conversation I took the time to explain how in my opinion a McChicken is better than sex. Now this is not the place to get into my elaborate case for the McChicken but the point is, my love for a McChicken was made very clear to this stranger who I think was a little shocked by dedication to a burger.
There are two things you can guarantee when travelling. The first is that you will meet a plethora of truly wonderful people. The second that you will find yourself up against some sort of stomach bug at some point. Peaks and troughs.
Naturally I found myself dealing with the latter the day we returned from our two day hike. I spent the day cooped up in a dorm room alone, feeling rather sorry for myself. Well, that isn’t entirely correct. I wasn’t alone. The Canadian man had chosen to read his book in his bed the whole day. Not because he had an unquenchable thirst for reading but because he had chosen very subtly to keep an eye on me. By the afternoon I had mustered the courage to ask him if he could possibly buy me a bottle of water as I was not yet brave enough to venture onto the public streets at a distance from my new friend the bathroom to obtain water. Being Canadian and oh so friendly he kindly obliged.
After an hour passed I became concerned that my Canadian water provider had fallen into a well somewhere and had given me the boot. Disappointed, I started get myself together to make the quick dash to a local store for some water at which point the Canadian returned. In his hand a bottle of water and a banana. Just as I began to thank him he handed over something that left me genuinely shocked. I sat on my bed dumbfounded as little brown bag with the golden arches was staring back at me. Inside nothing short of the best McChicken I have ever eaten.
Now this might seem like not much of a big deal, but this was a big deal to me. Of the hours we spent chatting my passing mention of my McChicken love had registered somewhere in this persons brain and though he barely knew me he had brought me the thing that would make me happiest while I sat alone and sick in a hostel dorm. This was one of the most thoughtful acts I had ever experienced. To which I could muster up only the words … “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?” to which he confidently laughed and responded ‘We’ll see”.
So here I am. Some 365 days from where I started. The sun is shining, my mood is elated and this time as I fly off in the distance from Heathrow Airport I won’t be full of questions. This time I am full of answers.
Today after over 4 months of long distance I am reunited with my Canadian boyfriend and more importantly my home. Because for me, home is where he is.