I'm 31 with no job and no place to live but at least I'm going travelling for a while.
So...What's the plan?
So...What's the plan?
The agenda (month 1)
My trip to Australia started with a couple of fairly torturous flights, from LHR -> DOH -> MEL. The 13hr flight from Doha to Melbourne being the real kicker. No amount of plane food and free movies makes less than 6 hours of sleep in 48hrs OK. However, I’ve learnt that’s how you beat the jet lag - sleep as badly as possible on the way over and crash big time when you arrive.
Now that I’ve arrived, the first real event of the trip kicks off on the 10th December, as I head off on a road trip with best pal Ollie Aka Big Ol. Having only passed my driving test in November this year, I’m sure Ol is feeling a little nervous to see me behind the wheel, but beginners luck is a thing with driving right?
We’re hoping to hit some top nature spots over the following 9 days, including:
Wilson’s Promontory (known for…
(known for the penguinos waddling along the shoreline)
Sorrento (not the Italian one but the sea looks just as blue, hoping to do a spot of fishing here)
The Great Ocean Road (where we will do our longest stretch of driving)
Otway National Park
Grampians `National Park (Yes, another national park, maybe this one will have a nice pub tucked away in the trees somewhere?)
Return drive to Melbourne on the 19th
I’m looking forward to a ‘hot Aussie Christmas’ day, followed by the main event - The Ashes at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG)! 2 days of unashamed beer-drinking, sun-baking, high sporting-drama. As I’m writing this, England are playing abysmally and have lost the first two tests but maybe they’ll have better luck in Melbourne?!
On the 30th, I plan to fly to Sydney to see in the New Year.
Saying goodbye
Wednesday 3rd December, 2025
It’s been a lot of goodbyes over the last 2 weeks, I’ve said goodbye to my friends, my job & colleagues, my flatmates, landlord and my family. And whilst I know I’ll be back to the U.K. soon it’s been a tough couple of weeks. All of these goodbyes have been tough but strangely enough this one was the most brutal.
I’ve always found the idea of processing (or not processing) emotions interesting and how people process things differently. Things don’t often hit me until last minute and then comes a big wave of emotion. This picture of an RAF man on the grimy walls of Heathrow airport waving goodbye is what really brought it on for me.
Photo of ashes on phone. It might not look like much but this little act put me right at home
Photo of ashes set up - maybe being in the middle isn’t so bad after all
Later on I was also relieved to see they had the HP collection in the film section
Is it ironic that we feel most loved when we’re leaving or saying goodbye?
Reflections on leaving London (aboard flight QR112)
Thursday 4th December, 2025
Now that I am safely aboard my 8am flight to Doha from LHR, my trip is starting to feel a little more real. And with just enough elbow room to operate my keyboard, I thought now would be the perfect time to reflect on my time in London which I am leaving behind (at least for a wee while!)
I’ve spent just under 10 years in London. It was always part of my plan. My parents met in London and loved their time living in their shared houses from Maida Vale to Finchley and Ealing. Whenever they have the opportunity to visit me and my sisters in the capital they’re keen to take a trip down memory lane and revisit the stomping grounds of their youth.
I think you could quite easily make a case for London being the best city in the world. Occasionally I would make the most of this by visiting the museums, restaurants and walking amongst the 2000+ years of history layered into its streets.
Despite this, my evenings out mostly consisted of meeting friends in a select East London pub that occupied the perfect intersection between trendy looking people, dark mahogany interiors and cheap-ish guinness.
This was normally followed by jumping on a lime bike (sorry mum) a little inebriated back to my flat where I’d be praying that I got home before my phone died, or swerved out of the way to avoid hitting a 3-legged fox that just scampered across the road. Or both. This was all part of the charm of course.
However, in recent years, I started to find that the more time I spent in London the more I felt myself turning to my flat as a place of refuge, burrowing away from the chaos and noise. And other than bumping into neighbours in the lift, I never felt a real sense of community. I guess this partly explains the general exodus from London at the 30+ age mark before we even get to how expensive it is.
My Hackney flat was in a new-build, but even the insulated walls couldn’t keep out the sirens and guffawing uni students out. And since turning 30, I found myself myself buying things to ‘keep London out’, black-out-blinds, noise-cancelling ear buds, a white noise machine.
Perhaps this is a slightly priviledged complaint as many people live in London all their lives, but having grown up in fairly suburban areas of Nottingham and Manchester for most of my life, I felt myself yearning for the quiet.
The word ‘London’ hints at another challenge too, ‘lon-eliness’.
In a city of 8 million people, where you often feel you’re living on top of each other, it can be surprisingly isolating. In fact, the city is so tight you feel like you know the people in the apartment building right across the street (but not really).
Every day I would steal small glances into kitchens and bedrooms, other people’s lives. TVs illuminate living room walls. Someone leaning on the kitchen counter waiting for the kettle to boil. Then all of a sudden the people you’ve been seeing every day are not there anymore. New people have moved in. There was something intensely lonely about that for me.
So, as I begin my journey to Australia, I am going to do my best to appreciate the hustle and bustle of Melbourne, a new city; meet some fun people and make a conscious effort not to look into people’s kitchens as much.
A conversation with passenger 22J
Thursday 4th December, 2025
One thing I wanted to do on my journey over to Australia was strike up a conversation with one of the passengers next to me and find out where they were going
Photo of ashes on phone. It might not look like much but this little act put me right at home
Photo of ashes set up - maybe being in the middle isn’t so bad after all
10 pound pomme and legion member clubs - a different way to explore the city. 2 brothers in Aus that he met and took him in and said you remind me of mum
the heartbreaking bit was his step mum back in the U.K. saying she’s your real mum and he was trying to convince her otherwise
First impressions of Melbourne
Tuesday 9th December, 2025
Photos of me & Ol, goldy’s, smith street, me in rain coat?
goldys tavern - where the pool is free and they serve chicken parms
It’s like they’ve used London pubs at a template and made all the right tweaks
Roadtrip
Thursday 11th December
Photo of playlist, car,
A conversation with Ollie - exclusive - why did you move? ‘Oliver Ainley - Another Brit in Australia, but why?’
Intro - For those of you who don’t know, Oliver aka Ollie aka Big Ol as he’s affectionately known, is a 6’5 wiry-framed, curly-haired man from South Manchester. He is into music and films and likes to tell you about it too. He was the guy at house parties who would drink and dance (well ‘ish’, there was always a lot of limbs when it came to his dancing and everyone had to give him a wide berth) more than anyone else until 5am. Yet, he would then get up at 7am to tidy away the beer bottles and wipe the cheap prosecco off the floor. A sign of good breeding I always thought. He’s also got a lot of love to give, something I wasn’t used to in my male friendships. One example being was when we lived together in Hackney and I was heading home for the weekend to see my family When I came back to our hackney house and dragged my suitcase into the bedroom, I spotted a postcard lying on my bed. It was from Ollie and all that was inscribed on the other side was a single message ‘missed you this weekend mate’. I still have that postcard. He’s been a close friend of mine since I moved to Manchester at 15 years old. In fact, when I moved to Manchester and joined a grammar school, I thought he was ‘into’ me. How preposterously arrogant of me, I know. But for context it was an all-boys school (a bizarre concept for me at the time) and I think I was in my head too much clearly thought a lot of myself. He just wanted to hang out.
I was worried that, after not seeing each other for a year, we’d have to build things back up but as this photo clearly shows…
Q&A interview style written out?