Our Travel Stories

A house is not a home.

It’s been a very strange 3 weeks back in the U.K. and a time of very mixed emotions. After spending the past few months circumnavigating the globe with little boy I was very much looking forward to coming back and seeing my daughter, my parents and catching up with my closest friends but that’s about it. Another part of me was just dreading coming back, so much so that I had already decided before we even got back in the country that I wanted to move house and had estate agents in doing valuations whilst I was still on the other side of the globe.

The elation of my daughter being at the airport to meet us was wonderful (she had told me she had to work so she could surprise us), but once I actually walked through my front door I felt like a caged animal. Within less than 24 hours I was ripping wallpaper off the living rooms walls as if I was ripping off a layer of my own skin, I was pulling everything out of cupboards and wardrobe, I was taking boxes of rubbish going up to the tip and bags and bags of clothes to local charity shops.

We have lived such a beautiful simplistic life for the past few months, I have come to loathe clutter along with all things un-necessary and materialistic.

Stick me by the side of the ocean or in the middle of a forest and that is all I need to nourish my soul. All I want from here on in is life without walls.

I must go down to the sea again…..

I literally haven’t stopped since we’ve been back, I had two training courses to prepare and run, plus a visit to mid-Wales to see my parents. As fast as I was unpacking one suitcase, I was repacking another!!

It was sad to see a further decline in my Dad’s health and mobility in the months I have been away. A man who was once so fit and active who found it impossible to sit still, now housebound and shuffling from one room to another with his zimmer frame and even in those moments I am holding my breath and praying that he doesn’t fall. I desperately wanted to get him out but it’s darn near impossible getting him in and out and my car, and would be tempting fate if we had to make additional stops for toilet and meal breaks etc.

So I came back, took a deep breath, re-evaluated life the universe and everything and after a few days of searching found myself in Gosport putting an offer in on a motorhome!

I have never even driven one before but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. It means that the kids and I can now just pack up and either go and sleep up on the South Downs under the stars or close to the ocean with the windows open listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the sand. It also means that with the help of an additional motorised platform step I will be able to get Dad out for day trips and not have to worry about toilets or food stops because everything will be under one roof.

Motorhome Purchased from: Motorhome Depot

We are off to Bali next Saturday for a few more weeks, so we won’t get full enjoyment out of this new baby just yet, but I am very much looking forward to spending the next few months of the year continuing to live a minimalistic & nomadic life – being out among nature and quite simply doing what comes naturally! Our home for a while will one on wheels and we are looking forward to sharing the next chapter of adventure……..not to mention G&T under the stars!!!!


3 thoughts on “A house is not a home.”

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