The Big Move

I remember having second thoughts and panic-stricken nights approaching the day of my big move. I remember putting on a brave face for my family when I said goodbye at the airport then bursting into tears the moment I walked through the departure gates. I remember getting off the plane when I landed for the first time in Auckland and thinking how unforgivably chilly the February wind was, not realising at the time the full wrath of winter that was to come in a few months. I remember finally dropping my bags and falling in a heap on my bed when I made it to my dorm room in Palmy about 24 hours after I had left home, and having another long fatigue-induced, starvation-aggravated bawl.

I think of all that, and I smile. If you could go back in time and tell that weeping girl who was convinced she was going to be all alone in a foreign land that she was going to find long-lasting friendships with the most amazing people from all walks of life, she would have regarded you with unconcealed scepticism. If you had added to that same girl who was then terrified to get on a plane that she would have not only explored almost the entirety of New Zealand but also visited 17 different countries in total by the time she finished her degree, she would have laughed in your face.