The Mountains In My Life

Mount Everest, Nepal

It’s a strange feeling to watch this video, more than two months after I took it while in a small airplane over the Himalayas of Nepal. It’s strange to think of how much I’ve done and how far I’ve travelled, how much I’ve grown and how much I’ve learned. I’m currently sitting in a cosy house in Melbourne, Australia, wearing fuzzy slippers and full of home-made hummus and chai tea; my fingernails are clean, my fringe is straight, my (borrowed) clothes are soft and warm. In short, there is nothing save some scraggly thread bracelets on my left arm and a peeling tan on my back that symbolises that I’ve done any backpacking at all.

It fascinates me, that – that only a few short days ago I was sweaty and hot, tired and run-down, dirty and…dirtier, and now I am clean, well-rested, and right back in the “developed”, “organised” world. It fascinates me because, frankly, I think I prefer how I felt a few days ago. In fact, I know I prefer it.

I’m in Melbourne for another ten days to spend time with my lovely friend Ali, then I’m back to Asia, back to the chaos and the grime and the wide-eyed curiosity I’ve grown to love.