#HASHTAG #NEWCHAPTER

I haven't been writing in my travel journal, but sometimes I know that I don't need to write things down to remember. I know I'll always remember the amazing couple of weeks I've had here in the UK, and I will never forget the moment (albeit bittersweet) that I let go of things that were holding me back and looked towards the future and this incredible new part of my life.

THIS IS A BRONX BOUND LOCAL TRAIN NEXT STOP IS 42ND TIMES SQUARE STAND CLEAR OF THE CLOSING DOORS.

Just a snap that I took while I was waiting for the subway yesterday.

A NEW YORK MINUTE.

There are only a couple of things left on my NYC bucket list, and last week I ticked a couple of things off - the Guggenheim, eat a NYC pretzel, and buy an I love NY t-shirt.

Today is the start of my last week in NYC and although I'm sad to be leaving, I'm just as excited to be flying away to explore a new place. It does feel strange to be getting onto a plane that isn't bound for Australia, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about getting onto a flight home. Even though, technically, I'll be closer to home in London that I am here in NYC - in distance and time - I feel like I'm going to be further away. I feel like every day I spend exploring a new place is another day that I slip a little bit further away from my friends. I worry that it'll be harder for keep in touch, harder to connect, harder to find something to talk about. I worry that things will have changed so much - both in myself and in the people I left behind - that things won't be the same, and that makes me sad. Although this adventure is a great new beginning (and I'm not saying that things were bad at home, just that I needed to make changes in my life, attitude, and behaviours) it's really hard to let go of the past. I thought that being halfway around the world would make letting go easier, but it hasn't.

I don't want to sound ungrateful for the opportunity I have to travel like this and go on an incredible adventure. I know that I'm doing something that many people will never be able to do and I'm so lucky that I can and am. I can't stop myself for feeling like this and I wanted to write in down, after all, this is a journal.

I didn't start this post with the intention of writing what I have, but I want to write as honestly as I can here - the good, bad, and ugly - and today I started writing and just kept writing and this is where I ended.

TAKE ME OUT TO THE BALL GAME.

I went to the Yankees vs. Toronto Blue Jays game last week and despite knowing nothing about baseball and having no idea what was going on most of the time,  I had a great time. I sat in the bleachers with a bunch of Yankee fans, ate cheese fries and drank soda, and heckled the left field.

THE TOP OF THE ROCK + AN AMAZING SUMMER'S NIGHT.

Equals an a-freaking-mazing view of New York City.

DEAR DIARY: I'M NOT SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T WRITEN.

A quick snapshot of what I've been up to in NYC this week. I took the Staten Island Ferry and admired the Lower Manhattan skyline, spent a good chunk of time walking up and down the fabric lined aisles at Mood, soaked up that bookstore smell in Strand Books, and took a walk through the Park Avenue Tunnel.

I've been living in NYC for two months now and I still have those this-isn't-real-I-must-be-dreaming moments. Even more amazing than the tourist bucket list moments are the moments when I'm doing something mundane - like juggling my groceries on a busy sidewalk, trying to get my metrocard out of my pocket without spilling my Americano* - and I catch a glimpse of the Empire State Building. I'm in New York City. I'm actually in New York City. I could say it a thousand times from the top of the Empire State Building but it still wouldn't feel real.

I was worried that if I didn't keep a journal throughout my time here that I'd wouldn't have any way of remembering the time I spent here, but I know now that I won't. Sure, I won't have a record of what I did each day, but I'll always remember the moments that took my breath away, the moments when I fell even more in love with the city, and the moments when I was so so happy that I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. 

And even if those memories start to fade away, I'll still have the Instagram snaps.

* An Americano is a black perculoted coffee that I have come to absolutely love. Something that I never thought I would say. It's true that New York City changes you.

A SHORTCUT THROUGH CENTRAL PARK.

I like shortcuts. And I like taking shortcuts on a sunny Sunday morning. And I love finding myself still wandering around Central Park hours later.

A LAZY SUMMER AFTERNOON.

I won't ever forget how lazy summer afternoons in NYC feel. The feel of the sun on my shoulders, the chill of the iced coffee you grab from a street vendor on the corner for a dollar fifty, and the smell of the night as it rolls in as the sun sets.

DEAR DIARY: CHANGE OF PLAN, I'M GETTTING FROYO.

I was going to take the Staten Island ferry across to Staten Island yesterday afternoon, but things didn't quite go to plan. First the subway was suddenly blocked - meaning the trains stopped running on the line - due to an investigation. After couple of minutes, during when I tried to figure out how to get downtown on another subway line, a train turned up, and I hopped on. Then the train stopped at 72nd and the conductor announced (and you can barely hear what they're saying over the sound of the train) that the train was going express from 72nd to 42nd. For an express train, it went pretty slow. Once the train got to Times Sq almost everyone got off (it always freaks me out a little when this happens) and the train sat there for ages. And this happened again at 18th. And then again at Houston. And then at Chambers it stopped and the conductor told us that it was out of service, and to take the 2 or 3, or walk and get the 4. At this point I'd been on the subway for an hour and a half. 

I decided the only thing to do on a sweltering summers day in the city would be to ditch my ferry plans and go get fro-yo.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: THE BROOKLYN FLEA MARKET.

Dear Diary,

On Sunday I made the trek to Brooklyn to check out the Brooklyn Flea Market. Three trains and a detour through Williamsburg and I arrived, scorching under the sun, and headed straight for the limonade stand. 

Fresh limonade in hand I took a stroll around the market, stopping to rummage though trunks of stuff - huge safety pins, historic maps of almost every city in the world, and old scrabble tiles - and chat to local artists.

The flea is held at the East River Skate Park, and at the end of the park is a tiny beach littered with debris from hurricane sandy. I stood on a big old wooden sleeper and look out across the river at Manhattan, remembering the last couple of beaches that I'd stood on - Beach Number 5 in The Andaman Islands and Largs Bay, at home - and it made me smile.

When I think back to my trip, or about home, I get incredibly happy, cry, or wonder if it's all a dream. I seriously can't believe that I stood on that beach on Havelock Island (even though I have a scar to remind me), saw sunrise at the Taj Mahal (almost!), and drank tea in Darjeeling (and mum would be drinking if too if the package we sent back hadn't been returned to India again!). And I can't believe that I'm now living in New York.

It kinda scares me that my dreams are coming true.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE.

The other day I took a long walk across the Brooklyn Bridge and spent the afternoon wandering around DUMBO, snapping pictures of the Lower Manhattan skyline, and roasting on one of the hottest day of the heatwave. 

After an afternoon oh-ing and ah-ing over the incredible bridge, the skyline and being amazed how small Manhattan looks from the other side of the Hudson, I took the long way to the subway. I walked along Centre Street past the court house - there were no wig sporting celebrities around unfortunately - along Canal Street and through the vibrant and bustling Chinatown. And somewhere along Canal Street I turned left and I was in Little Italy. I don't think I'll ever get over how different the city is one neighbourhood to another. Sometimes from one street to another. 

I wandered from neighbourhood to neighbourhood as I made my way through the busy Union Square stopping to quickly snap a picture of Manhattenhenge, to Times Square, and saw it light up as the sun set.

Times Square is incredible during the day, and it was even more incredible at night. It comes alive. There were people everywhere, every building was lit up, and a man was playing the guitar in a pair of white underpants.

I've almost crossed everything off my New York City bucket list and I'm not even halfway through my stay in the city that never sleeps. Although, even though I've done almost everything that I want to do here, I feel like there will always be more to see. My dream to call this incredible city no longer exists, but I've been happy to call it my temporary home for now.

Rebecca.

VLOG: A RAINY DAY IN NYC.

I went on an adventure in the rain on Friday afternoon.

DEAR DIARY: A RAINY DAY IN THE CITY.

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I spent a rainy afternoon wandering around the city. 

Admission to the MoMA is free on Friday afternoons and I thought a rainy afternoon would be the perfect time to check it out. And apparently every tourist in New York City thought so too. The line, when I got there at ten to four was huge - it went along 53rd, 6th, and almost the whole way down 54th. It was chaos, it was raining, and the sidewalks aren't big enough for tourists and their umbrellas. I thought I'd head to The Burger Joint at Le Parker Meridian, indulge in an oozy cheeseburger, wander around the city for a little while and head back later in the afternoon. 

I wouldn't have known about The Burger Joint if it hadn't being recommended to me - there isn't a sign on the street, and once you're inside Le Parker Meridian there's only a small neon sign down a corridor. It's the kinda place you have to know about to find. I felt like I belonged to an underground burger club. After a very oozy cheeseburger and a should-or-shouldn't-I write on the walls moment (I didn't, but I think I'll go back and add my name to the scrawl) I left feeling very satisfied and with some stock advice - overheard from the guy sitting at the table next to me.

I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring some of the tourist hot spots - Dylan's Candy Bar, M&M's World, and Hersheys. I don't go as crazy for lollies as some of the kids were going in Dylan's Candy Bar, but it was kinda cool to have a look around. And the smell. The only way I can describe it is that it was like inhaling sugar.

All sugared out - and sick of being pushed by inconsiderate tourists - I headed back to the MoMA. The line was just peeking out of the door and I managed to sneak in before it started raining again. 

It's a quirky gallery and although I'm not always interested in art galleries, I was drawn to this one. I felt like I was a little rushed, and the rain room had closed by the time I got to it, so I'm going to go back again before I leave.

It started to rain - and rain here is different than rain at home - so I quickly scurried home to spend the rest of the night on the couch eating macaroons.

Rebecca.

VLOG: CENTRAL PARK.

I spent a freakishly hot day exploring Central Park - wandering along the Jackie Onassis Reservoir path, relaxing on The Great Lawn, and people watching as I walked down The Mall.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: KINDLE SESH IN CENTRAL PARK.

Dear Diary,

Today - on a freakishly hot day in New York City - I took a picnic to Central Park and spent the morning sprawled out on the lawn with my kindle.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: YOU CAN TAKE THE GIRL OUT OF STRALYA, BUT YOU CAN'T TAKE THE STRALYA OUT OF THE GIRL.

Dear Diary,

The title says it all.

Rebecca.

VLOG: 4th JULY.

I made the move from blog to vlog this week and I love it. You can find my YouTube channel here, where I'll be uploading more of my travel adventures.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: FOURTH OF JULY.

Dear Diary,

Travelling isn't always spending endless days in the sun, eating street food, and wandering around a new place. It can be scary, frustrating, and you will, at some point, feel lonely. That's how I've been feeling for the past few days. I was having trouble with my laptop, it was hot and humid, and the people in the building opposite mine were having a barbecue. While I was chatting to a friend it all just became too much and I had a panic attack. I want to come home, I can't do this, I'm lonely. All of those things spew from my mouth mid sobs. Of course I don't want to come home, and I know that I can do this, but I won't deny that I'm not lonely. The thought of having no-one to talk to, no-one to snap pictures with, and no-one to laugh at is taking it's toll on me at the moment, and I'm struggling. I know that once I'm travelling (at the moment I'm house sitting) I'll meet people to travel, chat, laugh, and eat with, but that's months away. When I'm feeling lonely it kinda makes me want to do nothing, and that's what I was planning on doing yesterday.

After a chat with a friend - who is awesome because they're always the first to read my blog, watch my vlog and call, no matter the time difference, when I need someone to talk to - who assured me that it was normal to feel like this, that it was okay to get upset by it, and that I would be okay, I pepped up and decided to head down to Hudson to jostle for a spot to watch the fireworks from.

I had a great night. The fireworks were insane - I'd even go as far as to say they were the best fireworks that I've ever seen - and the atmosphere was insane. People were oh-ing and ah-ing, whoop-ing and cheering, and it was contagious. I found myself cheering along with the crowd, oh-ing and ah-ing, and clapping when the fireworks finished.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: WASHINGTON SQ PARK, CARRIE'S APPARTMENT, BLEEKER ST, & MY FIRST VLOG.

Dear Diary,

I went on a sightseeing adventure yesterday morning and did a little bit of vlogging along the way. I felt a little awkward vlogging on the street but figure that I'm just another crazy person in a city of eight million - and it's worth it to be able to share my adventure with my friends, family, and tweeps.

I headed downtown to West Village - which quickly became my favourite place in the city - to wander around Washingtown Square Park, down the restaurant and boutique lined Bleeker Street, and found myself on Carrie Bradshaw's stoop. As with most of my adventures, it felt a little surreal. After snapping a photograph, a quick instagram snap, a short vlog and a chat with the people who live on the ground floor of that infamous building (they were really friendly and more than happy to take a solo travellers picture!) I took the opportunity to wander aimlessly around West Village. If I was going to live in New York City I'd live here - it's a vibrant, sophisticated, quirky neighbourhood and whenever I'm there I feel like I could call it home.

I tore myself away from the wide tree lined streets of West Village to wander around Midtown. I saw Madison Square Park, the Flatiron (not Flat-ron) Building, Bloomingdales and the huge lush plant pots in Columbus Circle. I will never get over how unique this city is and how it changes from street to street - there are bright blue, red, and yellow art installations in the amazing green spaces, tables and chairs litter around busy intersections for people to sit, chat, and eat, and a crazy mish mash of buildings. Three months doesn't feel like enough time to explore.

Rebecca.

TRAVELING CHANGED MY LIFE.

I've never been happier that I am right now. I'm three weeks into an eighteen month adventure and I'm loving every crazy, confusing, chaotic minute of it. I'm really looking forward to the next year and a bit of my life. I have no commitments, no bills and no-one to look after but myself. I'm excited to visit exotic places, meet interesting people, and do crazy things.

If you rewind a little, things were different. I was unhappy. I was suffering from anxiety which was crippling my life. I couldn't do anything without panicking, needing to think about and plan everything. I avoided doing things that I thought were too hard, too confusing, or were too challenging. It was also affecting my relationship, putting strain on my partner, who did nothing but support me, and making him unhappy. I let this control my life, I was miserable but I told myself I was happy.

And then I went to India and it changed my life.

I was pushed out of my comfort zone, thrown head first into the deep end, I was challenged, I was confronted with life and I realized I could swim. India helped me let go of my anxiety, learn to go with the flow, not to worry all of the time and to relax and have fun. I did things, instead of worrying that I couldn't do things and everything I did was amazing.

It changed the way that I think about money and how I define wealth. I used to get a kick out of buying things but now I value experiences. After traveling to a country where everything is cheaper, it's hard to come back and spend the way I was. I'm in no way saying that filling your wardrobe with clothes and shoes is the wrong way to spend money, it's just not right for me anymore.

Traveling has made me appreciate people, every nomad traveling the world, new mother hiding behind a colourful sari, and chai wallah trying to feed his family. I feel like I've become a more open person, a patient person, an understanding person. I've never been a social butterfly, and before I travelled I worried that people didn't like me, that they were pretending to be my friend but found me weird. Now I'm confident in the person that I am.

It made me brave, and confident in myself. I can walk into a train station and buy a ticket to a town whose name I can't pronounce. I can find the right bus in a chaotic Indian bus station. I can bargain for a room, a bracelet, a wall hanging. I can fly halfway around the world by myself.

I’ve been bitten by the travel bug and said yes to an amazing opportunity that led me to New York City for three months and the chance the explore the world for the next eighteen months. So far, I’m loving every minute of it.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: WALL ST, 9/11 MEMORIAL, & THE FINANCIAL DISTRICT.

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I took the subway downtown to explore the Financial District - Trinity Church, Wall Street, 9/11 Memorial and every food truck lined street in between. I love to walk around - it's a backpacker budget friendly way to see wherever you are - and I love walking around New York City. Each neighbourhood is different and it amazes me every time I wander from one to another - I feel like I'm in a completely different place.

The 9/11 Memorial was a bit chaotic - lines, more lines, and lots of people who don't like waiting in lines, - but was worth the wait. It's a big, open, green space, and the reflection pools create a sense of calm in the middle of the hustle and bustle of a big city. Halfway around the world in Australia, in a city as small as Adelaide, I found it hard to imagine the impact the attacks had on the city, but seeing the memorial - the reflection pools in the footprint of where the twin towers once stood, the freedom tower casting a shadow on the surrounding buildings, and the amount of construction that it still happening on the World Trade Centre site - opened my eyes.

I had no plans for the rest of the afternoon and decided to walk uptown, rather than catch the subway. I walked through the colourful and busy neighbourhood of Tribeca, realised I was in China Town after a while, passed through the quirky artist hub Soho, found myself on the NYU campus in Greenwich Village, and walked the tree lined streets of Chelsea, before I had to hop onto the subway home.

I've been crossing things off my list-of-things-I-want-to-do-in-NYC list, but I've also added a few more things too. There is always something to do, see, or eat in NYC, and I hope that I can experience as much as I can before I leave.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: AMERICAN JUNK FOOD.

Dear Diary,

I blame Reese's Peanut Butter Cups for the kilo I've put on since I got here. And Milk Duds. And Ben and Jerry's Icecream. And Twizzlers. And Dorritos

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: THE HIGHLINE, EMPIRE STATE BUILDING, WEST VILLAGE, AND FRIENDS.

Dear Diary,

There's nothing better for homesickness than getting lost in New York City, and I've been doing a lot of that recently. I took the subway downtown, window shopped on Bleeker Street, and got a little lost in West Village, but when you're in a vibrant, bustling, colourful part of the city, who cares. After a little aimless wandering I found Bedford Street and, ta-da, the building that was used in FRIENDS. I squealed with excitement when I saw it, and I still can't believe that I was there.

I wandered through West Village into the Meatpacking District to the Gransevoort Street entrance to The High Line. The High Line is a public park built on an old rail line elevated above the streets on the West Side. It is an incredible public space in a concrete jungle and on a beautiful summers day there were people out, enjoying the sun, the popsicles, and the amazing scenery. It was an incredible lush green space, decorated with native plants and colourful flowers in the middle of the stark, industrial, concrete jungle. It runs from Gransevoort Street to West 30th, and even if you can't stop for a popsicle, it's still a quick way to get around midtown.

And then I went up all eighty-six floors of the Empire State Building to look out over New York City, as the sun went down and the city lit up. It was a perfect end to a great day exploring the city.

I haven't written as much as I'd like and I'm not sure why but I just haven't felt like writing. I'm scared that if I don't write a journal that I won't remember all of the amazing things I'm doing, seeing, and experiencing.

Rebecca.

BECOMING A NEWYORKER.

For the next three months I'm calling New York City home and myself a New Yorker. The past week has been a blur of subway maps, starbucks, and sunshine as I've started to adapt to life in the city that never sleeps. Here's a quick summary of my first week

The sidewalk is for walking and walking only. If you stop to take a photograph, look for something in your bag, or because you realise you're walking in the wrong direction, you'll attract a fierce glare and a very audible sigh. Jaywalking is not only acceptable, but encouraged, and when you're rushing to the subway you'll do it too. It's daunting at first, especially when you're still getting used to the idea that traffic is on the other side of the road. My tip is to stick close to someone who looks like they know what they're doing until you get used to the traffic.

When it hasn't rained in a few days it means that that puddle is not rainwater - do anything you can to avoid stepping in it. 

It's a good idea to know what you want before you get on line - oh! and in the USA you wait on line, not in line - at Starbucks. The line may look long enough for you to have a good look at the menu, but it'll move very quickly and you'll be left um-ing at the counter - not a good look. And if you want milk in your coffee you'll need to ask for it - otherwise you'll get a surprised when you take a sip!

When someone asks you 'How are you?' they don't actually care how you are - It's just another way to say hello. New Yorkers don't like small talk, especially in elevators. When you make eye contact with someone in the street, don't smile, it's considered weird.

The food trucks are twice (or more!) as expensive around the tourist attractions. If you walk a block away in any direction they'll be a dollar. 

 A cantaloupe is a rockmelon. A yam is a sweet potato. A biscuit is a bread roll. A pie is a pizza. A hero is a type of sandwich. And most importantly, they're called flip flops.

And it's Grand Central Terminal, not Grand Central Station.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: GROCERY SHOPPING.

Dear Diary,

I'd call myself a foodie. A food-truck-cheap-and-local-street-stall foodie. But as much as I love to hit food trucks and street stalls, I love to cook. I also really enjoy a trip to the supermarket, and was as excited to hit the grocery store as I was to try my first hotdog. Apart from struggling to navigate the narrow aisles, bumping almost everyone who walked past me in the store, and not getting confused about pounds and kilos, I managed to find everything I needed for my favourite comfort pasta. 

Well, almost everything. The fresh food section was a little underwhelming - there was no rocket, the carrots weren't as appetising as they are at home, apples were a similar price, but strawberries are in season and I got the biggest punnet ever for three dollars. The butchers section was fantastic - meat is much cheaper here than it is at home, and the selection was incredible. I was craving feta cheese, but when I finally found it - there were two cheese sections, I don't know why - I found it wasn't very budget friendly. I'm so used to milk being a dollar a litre and always scoff when it's not - even at home - so of course I thought the milk was expensive at 2.99 a half gallon, which is a little under two litres.

And then I saw poptarts, which are a bargain compared to home. Into the basket they went. 

I know it's kinda weird that I'm writing about going to the grocery store and how much things cost, but I really enjoying doing everyday things when I travel, and I want to remember as much as possible about my trip. As homesick as I currently am, I know this trip is going to be incredible and I want to remember each and every thing I did, saw, and felt.
 
Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: THE MET.

Dear Diary,

Today I braved the weather and headed into the city. The weather was a bit gloomy so I decided to check out the Met. I hopped on the subway here in the Bronx, and hopped of on the West side. I walked up the subway steps to the street and I stood there in awe for a minute. I still can't believe that I'm in New York. I walked from 79th street station to the Met, taking the shortcut through Central Park. It was drizzling and there was no-one around - I felt like I had the whole park to myself. I wandered through the park under my umbrella not giving a second thought to the rain, to anything really. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and ended up doing both. This has been my dream for as long as I can remember - and I'm overwhelmed that it's coming true. At the same time I'm not sure I'm feeling this way because I thought this was my dream, and it's not. In the last couple of years I've graduated, I've lived independently, I've learnt that I love running, and that my perfect weekend involves a movie marathon and good coffee, and I've backpacked around India, a place I knew nothing about and never would have imagined travelling to - lots of things have changed, and I think that my dreams did too. I know I'm going to have an amazing summer in NYC, but I know that it's not the place I want to be forever.

The MET was incredible. I wandered around aimlessly - the way I think all museums should be explored - for two hours, snapping pictures and wondering if I really understood modern art. It wasn't raining when I left so I headed for the nearest hotdog cart, grabbed a hotdog with the lot, and plonked myself on the steps of the MET to eat it. Of course, I spilled cheese on myself. I wouldn't have made it as a minion.

I then headed to back to the subway via Park Avenue, admiring the incredible buildings, and doing a oh-my-gosh out loud when I walked past Vera Wang. I like walking around the city, people watching, and I hope I get the chance to walk down every street in the city. I wouldn't even mind being lost, not when there's Starbucks on every corner and a hotdog cart on every street.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: MY FIRST DINER.

Now that's a cheeseburger! Today, after another day of fighting jet lag, wandering the hood, and trying not to make a huge mess by turning the taps on instead of off, I hit the diner. After a quick look at the menu - it was huge and you can order almost anything you want - I decided on a cheeseburger. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made. The burger was huge, melted cheese was oozing all over the meat, which was dripping in oil, and on the side was a pickle. Nothing else needs to be said. I devoured it.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: I'M HERE.

After three flights, seventeen thousand and ninety-nine kilometres, six hours waiting, and a little over six hours sleep - I'm here! The jet lag delirium is starting to kick in - it's lunch time at home but midnight here - and I can feel myself getting closer and closer to a jet lag crash.

Two days of passports, boarding passes, security, and uncomfortable days and sleepless nights has left me feeling emotional and irrational. I dropped my jumper between the terminal and the car and I cried. I logged on to my social media accounts to see messages from friends and family and I cried. I looked out of the window at the view and I cried. I'm feeling confused and overwhelmed, happy and sad, a mix of emotions and my jet lagged body doesn't know what else to do but curl up under a blanket and cry. I know that it'll take a few days for me to find my feet, that it's okay to feel overwhelmed, and that I will be okay after a nap, and a few good nights sleep. Right now I feel so far away from home. I'm not just a quick drive away, I'm halfway around the world. 

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: BACKPACK PACKING.

Dear Diary,

I can't wait to pick up my backpack, sling it over my shoulder, and wander the world. But first I need to pack. And packing is not my forte. Once I know what I'm taking, it's a chich - I'm a serious clothes roller and can tetris anything into a backpack - but I tend to err on the side of over packing. And packing for a big trip is a nightmare in itself. 

I've packed my favorite basics - leggings, paperbag shorts, a jearsy mini, geenie pants, and baggy tees - that I can mix and match, and dress up by adding my chelsea boots and a chunky necklace, and have picked three statement pieces - a breezy maxi dress, a fun and flirty mini dress, and a monochrome tunic dress - that add a bit of extra oomph to my traveling wardrobe. These three pieces should get me through a couple of years worth of warm summer's nights, movie and sushi dates, and casual hangs. I'm also taking my biker jacket and a lightweight knit jumper - and yes, I know backpacking with knits is a bit of a no-no! I'm currently addicted to a black and white check scarf so into the backpack it goes - it adds a bit of detail to any basic outfit and doubles as a pillow in transit so it's a win-win.

Choosing which shoes to take was easy as I tend to stick to a couple pairs of shoes. A pair of super comfortable military boots for everyday wear all year round, a pair of chelsea boots for when I need something dressier, a pair of favourite-worn-to-death sandals for those hot days, a pair of havianas (typical Australian backpacker!) and a pair of good sturdy traveling shoes. 

My toiletries bag is looking a tad on the large size, but since I'm not moving around too much in the first couple of months of my trip and don't have to lug my backpack around too much, I've opted to pack the skincare products that I'm currently using, even though they're bulky. I'm going to use up these products within a month or so, and once I have I can ditch the bulky tubs. 

Oh and the most important thing - a moleskin notebook and a pen! And in true over packing style I've packed TWO bikinis.

Rebecca.

DEAR DIARY: WANDERLUST.

Dear Diary,

There's less than a week until I fly halfway around the world. I've started packing the things I'm leaving behind into boxes, my housemates have agreed to adopt my fish, and my backpack is laying open on the floor of my bedroom, waiting to be filled. But I don't feel ready to go. I'm stuck in that not-quite-close-enough-to-pack phase.

Rebecca.

INDIA IN FOURTY-SEVEN PHOTOGRAPHS.

I thought I'd share my favourite photographs from my three month backpacking adventure in India.

Rebecca.