I’m contemplating what else could be an apt title for this blog. This year, at the end of April, I made my way to Brisbane. I have a friend who lives there and I had not seen her in 6-years! To be honest, I just needed an excuse to get on a plane and go somewhere. Last year, 2023, was quite brutal for me as I did not engage in activities that rejuvenate me, in other words, travel.

On New Years’ Eve, (and more so as I navigate through my 30s), I decided that 2024 would be a year, where I made myself the priority. I’ve had some good moments and some bad in trying to achieve this. Back to the point of this blog. I made my way to Brisbane to spend time with my friend, and to catch-up with some of my colleagues who are based around the wider Queensland state, about an hour’s drive away from Brisbane.

My friend and I had a 3-hour itinerary planning session, a week before I arrived, and I was looking forward to a little break over a long weekend. You may ask, why did I title this blog, memories, when I’ve said nothing about it. Well, it’s coming.

My friend planned on taking me to quite a few spots around Brisbane. Spots where she grew up, and spent quite a bit of time. I didn’t know what to expect, other than what she said at face value. But once we set out, it was fascinating hearing about where she grew up. The school she went to. The moments in time that are etched in those places, that played a key role in her growing up. From showing me the houses, members of her family owned over the years, to the stories she has over there. It was beautiful. But I did feel a bit sad.

I’ve grown up and lived in 4 countries, which is not something many people don’t know. I always felt a sense of pride in some ways, having grown up in different countries, embodying the various cultures they share, and their way of life. Until, I got to Brisbane, and went down a trip on memory lane with my friend. I realised, I couldn’t show someone the house I was born in, if they visit Auckland. That house is in New Delhi. It doesn’t even look like the house, where I was born, as my family has done re-modelling and re-construction of the property. I don’t have my childhood home, where I grew up. Those are in Muscat. I did get to go back in 2022 and see them, and not much has changed, other than the colour of the wall's paint. The first school that I went to. The halls are the same, the offices, and classrooms, only more modernised. The field now laden with a patch of fake grass, which was once just a muddy field.

What I do have here in Auckland, that I could show someone who visits, is the first school I went to, followed by the high schools I went to. Though they are associated with some of the worst times of my life, I do have to acknowledge, they play a part in shaping me into the person I am. I don’t know if I’d show them the schools fondly, but if it did come across our route during sightseeing, I would point it out. I have the memories of learning how to drive in this country. Not sure what or how I would even show someone anything relating to that but we’ll figure something out. Perhaps, I would show them the different places around Auckland, that I spent the most time in, and how it has changed over the last 21 years.

We haven’t even touched upon Sydney yet. Again, a place I went back to in 2022, for a trip down memory lane for myself. I would show someone the little apartment I lived in, scared for my life, because that’s all I could afford living in such an expensive city in Australia. I’m not sure what the moral of this blog is, or if there is any. But I’m hoping the next time someone visits me, I can show them the best of where I live and a few stops along the way where I have some memories built.

Where would you take your guests in the city you live in to show them where you grew up?

Until next time,

Mili G