Is it possible to love travel and routine?
“I travel a lot, I hate having my life disrupted by routine.” –Caskie Stinnet
I have a confession: I actually really, really like routine. I like waking up early. I like gym memberships and steady paychecks and having a house key. I like all those things that travelers are supposed to shun, those things that tie you down and fix you in a place.
I know that I promised myself I wouldn’t get comfortable in any one city. But if Sydney is the city you want to have a one-night stand with and Melbourne is the city you want to date, I can feel myself getting sucked into a relationship.
I always knew that I didn’t want to do the “traditional” working holiday: I didn’t want to live in a hostel, keep everything I own in a backpack and pick fruit. That’s just not me.
But the thing is, I didn’t seek this out: life in Melbourne just sort of fell together for me. I found a great apartment on my second day in St Kilda, with a roller-coaster view and a truly Aussie roommate who keeps the cupboards stocked with Vegemite, Milo and beer. I just started a “real” job, one that actually uses my degree and my brain instead of just my smile and my ability to carry three plates.
There’s a difference in choosing to be an expat versus choosing a life of travel. Being an expat is more than just “doing” a country; it’s not just friendships with a shelf life of a weekend. Being an expat means commuting, paying bills, having a flatmate–becoming a regular in a cafe, being able to give directions, not worrying about exchange rates. Traveling can be a series of flings, of “falling in love” with a city because it’s bright, beautiful, new. Choosing to live somewhere involves a bit more reflection, those fifth-date awkward but revealing conversations.
Sometimes I’m beset by guilt: I swore to myself that I wouldn’t live for the weekends again, wouldn’t get trapped by the 9 to 5 grind. Could I be living this life at home? Why did I leave my family and best friends to do in Australia what I could do in California? Some days I search flights to Las Vegas, dream about jetting home for my university’s alumni weekend.
But then I realize it’s all about the experience. Some day, I’ll get to say that I lived and worked in Australia–maybe to boast about international experience in an interview, maybe to prove to my kids that once-upon-a-time, Mom really did have a cool life. The thing is, I’m not doing a massive, year-long RTW trip–but maybe, this whole work-live routine is my way of traveling around the world.
Albeit very, very slowly.
