Finding a Part of the Planet to Call Home

Our little blue planet is such a beautiful place. With so much variety to choose from, finding a part of it to call home can take a while. It did for me. I hark from Australia – well known for its harsh climate and dangerous animals. Today I call the west coast of England home. It’s half a world away from where I began life.

Discovering what the world has to offer

When I flew from Tullamarine Airport, Melbourne Australia in 2004, I wasn’t sure if, or when, I would return. I was embarking on an adventure to explore the world. My agenda was open – travel through south-east Asia, land in the UK for a few years to work and explore Europe, and then..?

Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam were a whirlwind of exotic smells, colours and languages to learn. The heat of equatorial tropics wraps around you like a too warm, damp blanket. Dense forests, dirt roads and conversations with strangers colour memories of the equator.

These beautiful people and places have a harshness of their own. If you scratch beneath the white sand beaches and bustling metropolises, you’ll find poverty, hunger and a divide between rich and poor that is difficult to comprehend. Not so different from our lives in the west, I suppose, just with a tropical backdrop.

After a few months of wandering around the equator, I headed north to the stunning scenery of Nepal.

Navigating Kathmandu is a challenge. The streets have no names, just like The Pet Shop Boys sang. Throughout the day they writhe with people. At night they were eerily empty. A curfew in the city, enforced by the military, kept people indoors. Protests for democracy, a government in turmoil and checkpoints through the city manned by armed soldiers colour memories of Kathmandu.

Outside the city, rickety buses packed with people and chickens transport travellers from Kathmandu to Pokhara and beyond. Steep mountainsides threaten winding roads with landslides. Maoist rebels threaten Himalayan trekkers in tea houses while requesting donations for their cause. A receipt is given to those who comply. I do not know what happens to those who don’t.

The people here are tough and patient - just like the mountains they claim as home. I’m told these mountains hold the sky up for all the world. It’s easy to believe when you see the lofty peaks.

While all these places are beautiful, none felt like home to me. I imagined England would provide a touch of the familiar.

Same same, but different

Landing at Heathrow was like landing in an alternate reality. Buildings that could easily fit in an Australian city’s skyline huddled next to structures from times long gone. England’s history is long and deep; it’s around every corner. It sits alongside the present and future in ways that leave you feeling off-balance.

My first English home was on the south-east coast, a little town called Hastings. It’s famous for 1066 and the Norman conquest. England’s long history is easily seen in the land. Hillforts and burial mounds are dotted all over the place. Any train journey will take you past a handful or more; if you know what to look for. Ruined castles add interest to rural vistas, brands for beacon fires can be seen all along the south coast.

Around Wiltshire, the sides of hills are a canvas for white horse chalk carvings. The white horse of Uffington is the oldest - prehistoric. Touching the chalk is said to help one conceive. This county was graced by 13 white horse hill carvings, today just eight are visible.

England is ancient to a white Australian girl. The history I can claim of my home country is hardly more than 200 years long. Here, the history is longer than memory, further back than writing can reach. The land holds memories far longer than books can. Not much of it felt like home until I discovered the southwest coast.

A perfect place for me

Here in North Devon, I’m surrounded by dramatic coastlines, breathtaking moors and blessed with a dark skies reserve that allows the beauty of the heavens to be seen on any clear night. Many of my favourite places to wander have been designated as Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty. It’s a title they live up to with ease.

The beaches here are long stretches of golden sand that rival the beaches of my childhood. In the summertime, the sea is full of surfers and seals. Surprisingly, some of the best surf beaches in the world are found on this coastline.

Hidden valleys full of ferns and wildflowers invite picnickers. The country lanes are lined with hedges that burst with flowers and berries in the warmer months. Foraging for wild foods is one of my favourite activities for offsetting the sedentary work of a writer. Nature is giving and happy to feed our appetites.

As harsh and unforgiving as my home country maybe, England is just as gentle and generous. Here I can wander on the soft grass barefoot without fear of prickles or poisonous stings. The sunshine is warm without the bite it has back home. Here, I feel as though all my favourite landscapes have been gathered up and placed together - woodland and coast, moorland and golden beaches, all beneath endless skies. At last, I have found a part of this planet that feels like home.