TRAVEL MEMOIR: BACKPACKER TO NOMAD

The rustles coming from the thick foliage beneath the iron spiked fence would normally have scared the living daylights of me. However, tonight, the potential of snakes, giant spiders, lizards, baby dinosaurs, and who-knows-what-else lurking didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was that my feet were firmly on the concrete ledge with my hands gripped tight around the fence’s rusty spikes. My ear-to-ear smile was evidence that he came through—it was the perfect spot.

Anticipation, which had grown throughout the day, was reaching the climax, so much so the electric energy buzzing through the air almost felt physical. The source emanated from the dome of lights and noise around Sydney Harbour way down in the distance.

Although daylight had disappeared hours ago, the atmosphere only grew stronger by the minute. And apparently, so did the dampness on my body. Since arriving in Australia two weeks ago, not a day had gone by without leaking like a pierced hosepipe. It was the dead of the night and still warmer than most English summers. But the heat was nothing compared to the scolding giant ball of fire that made its presence known during the day.

 It loved playing a sickening game to torment us Brits. The game was hide and seek, not a friendly one, but a seek-and-destroy, “I’m-going-to-burn-you-to-death” type of game. Relentless in its sadistic pursuit…