Mar/Apr 09: the return home

Time to make a confession: much as I worry about the environment and mankind's future and all that, over the last couple of years I've built up a heinous 'carbon footprint' from all the flying I've done. Every time I take a flight, I think guiltily about the clouds of noxious jet exhausts burning up the ozone layer, and the little baby dolphins down below who cry confused tears at mankind’s wanton destruction of their beautiful environment. Yet I prefer not to confront the dilemma, as I could not have done the things I have done without this invention.

If, for instance, I’d wanted to come home from Australia in the olden times, I’d have had to splurge all my life savings on a sea ticket and then sit on a ferry for months on end, among the rats and disease, reading poorly-bound books of Victorian pornography. Now it took little over £200 and a single day of flying. And that's the problem really - it's just too convenient for people to ever do without, especially skint backpackers!

There had been rumours for months that an airline was set to introduce cheap flights between Perth and London. Doing some research at a Manjimup internet café I found not only was the rumour true, but that a return trip to the UK and back was just within my means. I’d got my second working visa, a couple of paycheques in the bank, and enough money that I could borrow to make the trip a reality. There was no reason not to do it!

I departed the hostel at Manjimup in much the same way as I had arrived; anonymously and with little fanfare. It had been a weird solitary experience out there in the countryside, and getting my visa had become not only a struggle against time but against homesickness and my waning enthusiasm for the whole adventure. Nevertheless I had worked hard and been rewarded, in hindsight, with a string of memorable experiences. After a few weeks’ break to catch up with my family and friends I would return to Australia to continue the journey.

The flights were with Air Asia X, a budget Malaysian airline who had very recently opened up a long-distance route to London. My total round trip (a flight from Perth to Kuala Lumpur, a return from Kuala Lumpur to London Stansted and a separate outwards flight from KL to Melbourne) cost just £550 – half what you’d pay for an economy seat with one of the big airlines. You had to fork out a little extra for meals and heavy baggage, but they thoughtfully included things like toilets, seats and windows for free, so it was a steal.

The long-awaited day finally arrived – Sunday 22^nd March. I was coming home. Early in the morning I checked in at Perth’s international airport and got the final black passport stamp confirming I was leaving Australia. And soon the plane was up and away into the sunrise, circling the Perth city skyscrapers as it gained height. Five hours later, we landed in Kuala Lumpur, the bleak airport buildings surrounded by palm trees and dripping in tropical heat. After a short break, and some authentic Malaysian KFC, it was time to check in again and begin the journey to London. I got two Malaysia passport stamps even though I’d only been in the country three hours!

The flight to London took fourteen hours and I battled in vain to stay awake, trying to beat the jetlag. The spadeful of caffeine they put in the airport coffee helped. Though the seats and legroom were reasonably generous it was obvious this was a budget flight, as all food and drinks were extra, and you had to pay for a handheld flatscreen thing if you wanted to watch movies. There was no map showing us our position either. Hopefully the pilots had one!

I saw a brilliant (if terrifying) thunderstorm out of the window at one point, the clouds towering up into the sky, firing huge bolts of lightning earthwards. I wouldn't like to have been stuck under that. Other than that it was a smooth flight. The night seemed to last forever as we followed the earth’s shadow around the globe.

The plane touched down at Stansted late on Sunday evening, back in good old Greenwich Mean Time and back in the bitter cold. As the throngs of passengers exited the plane we found the automatic bridge was broken, the airport toilets were flooded and there were huge queues at the passport desk. Yes, this felt like Britain alright! Clutching my Home Office immigration card, I advanced through security and met up with my good buddy Rick, here to collect me. It was fantastic to see him after all this time.

After more than 24 hours of travelling I was suddenly wide awake again and ready for a beer. Unfortunately we’d missed all the pubs shutting by about half an hour! Thankfully when we got to the Travellodge the guy on reception agreed to open up the bar and sell us a few bottles so we could drink in the room. I don’t know if that’s officially endorsed in the Travellodge rules and regulations but we were bloody grateful for this act of kindness!

And the next day I returned home, to my family in Yorkshire and to the old life I had almost forgotten. I'd seen my mum and dad quite recently in Melbourne but it was good to be reunited with them so soon. The next three weeks were a comforting blur of cups of tea, family dinners and trips to Blackpool to catch up with mates. Most of the people and places I’d missed were just as I remembered them. I began to regret the return plane ticket with my name on it, calling me back across the globe. I was seriously thinking of delaying my flight out so I could go over to a festival in Belgium with my mates. Yet I knew that whatever I sought from travelling was still out there and I had to go find it, sooner rather than later.

This was an ending of sorts – it marked my transition from a backpacker to a ‘suitcaser’. Things would have to change; I left behind my travel guitar, roll-mat, sleeping bag and trusty 65L rucksack and switched to a suitcase big enough to transport a midget in comfort. I threw out the faded rags I’d been wearing constantly for the past year and bought new clothes. I doubled the size of my wardrobe.

I stocked up on anything and everything I might need, mindful of the sky-high prices in Aussie shops. I got an international driving permit, a travel insurance extension, a new YHA card and sorted out various other jobs that had been mounting up. I put several gigabytes of songs on to my music player, found some books to take, then played a special ‘comeback gig’ in Blackpool (supporting the Blue Pig Orchestra) and said farewell to my friends. They seemed more used to me not being there now, and so did my family! This travel lark was nearly becoming routine for me.

And so I flew out from the UK on 14th April, back to Kuala Lumpur, and then on to Melbourne. And so ended a magical three weeks; an expensive folly that rejuvenated my soul. Now I had to get back out there and discover how to live again.