FOR three-and-a-half years, I have lived a life on the road without a solid career ladder to climb.
Instead, I hopped, skipped and jumped to far-flung destinations around the globe and waved adios to adult responsibilities. I embraced the notion of “carpe diem” to the fullest extent possible.
In the millennial age, all you need is good Wi-Fi and you are set to work from anywhere — this was also a contributing factor to the life I was leading.
But now I’ve decided to call it a day of living this nomadic lifestyle — despite the reel of highlight moments.
I unintentionally made international headlines on two separate occasions, becoming tabloid fodder and having my face attached to controversy. I also found myself in East Africa on three separate occasions, from living out my Lion King fantasies, performing karaoke with a pilot mid-flight to interviewing notorious Ugandan dictator Idi Amin’s son, Jaffar.
Meeting Jaffar was a defining moment as his conviction to help people and try to rewrite the wrongs of his father (although that can never be done) influenced me to get actively involved with charitable efforts in the East Africa region.
In a polar opposite setting (both weather and compass-wise), in 2017 I found myself dusting off the silver spandex to dance the night away in Kiev for the Eurovision grand final.
It was quite literally one of the highlights of my life thus far — coming together for the common good of rejoicing in the best (and not so best) of Euro pop in an electrifying, upbeat atmosphere.
Unfortunately, the 24 hours that followed made my party high steadily crash.
I was unwittingly attached to the controversy surrounding the grand final. My photograph (unknown to me at the time and at a different event) with the “Eurovision Streaker” would soon be plastered around the world throughout various media outlets.
To make things worse, I then stepped foot in one of the world’s most depressing places, Pripyat — the site of the 1986 Chernobyl nuclear disaster. That day would be one of my most distressing and troubling days of travel — especially when nursing a sore head.
However luckily, I am fortunate enough that all my negative experiences have far been outweighed with positive ones.
Back in the UK, I had another danceathon celebrating the summer solstice at Stonehenge. It was an unbelievable, magical experience to be in the Neolithic site among other worshippers and dancing to the beat of drummers until sunrise.
So how have I come to this conclusion, even with the incredible experiences, that I want to park the plane for a bit?
I moved to London over three years ago and the longest I have stayed in the big smoke without getting itchy feet was just over a month-and-a-half. The constant movement has been taxing on jobs, relationships, my mental and physical health and of course, my bank account.
Like the bank account I had neglected, it has also at times left me feeling empty, high and dry because it has been so void of the things that matter most in life. I realised I longed for a
routine, a permanent base and a steady income.
Luckily I never got to the stage of living off two-minute noodles but I hated the fact that London required me to live pay cheque to pay cheque so I had to be vigilant and count my pennies.
I felt like I needed to be more responsible with my future. It also made me wonder if I was being selfish — being so far away from home and missing out on those big moments.