30 Apr
You can never go back
At least, this is what they tell you.
We arrived in Australia last week, for a three-week stay in the sun. So far, one and one-half week in, things are going swimmingly; we have a mini-jaunt booked for next week for Sydney, which we’re very much looking forward to, and we’ve attended two Foo Fighters concerts over the last two nights which have been splendid.
The last time we came back to Brisbane, four years ago, I had the sense of it being something of a let down. I’d only been away for two years, and I had become used to the frenzy of living and working in London. Brisbane seemed… quiet to me; not boring per se, but certainly lacking in the vitality of London.
Four years later - fuck the vitality; London is a shit hole full of shit heads. Now, that’s quite a strong statement, I grant you, but I will stick by it. Visiting Brisbane again after being gone for so long, there is one thing I notice here: people are friendly, people seem calm, and people - in the majority - are actually nice. In London, for the most part, people seem to me to be somewhat soulless and lacking any particular warmth towards their fellow man. As someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, this disturbs me.
Now, to be completely fair, there are some lovely people in London and I am lucky enough to know some of them. However, they are few and far between.
Anyway, I was concerned that I would come back and find that I didn’t like Brisbane much at all, but I am now even more determined to move back here as soon as possible. At the moment, that still seems a few years away - in the interim, it looks like we’ll be moving to the Isle of Wight (hopefully next year), which will at least mean escaping London. However, I think I can be pretty sure now that Brisbane is where my heart is.
So yeah, sometimes you can go back.

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