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thanks for the memories i can and for those i can’t… remember

As I threw up my steak dinner on the very public corner of an inner city Perth street the other night I said to myself, ‘I love you Perth, but it’s time to go home.’

There has never been any trip more fun, more drunken, more sick inducing than my whirlwind last-minute trips to Perth. Friends who I haven’t seen in ages gather as we drink ourselves through as many pubs and bars throughout the city as we can possibly fathom, and forgetting where we have already been we often make it back to some of our favourite haunts two or three times.

My friends are a terrible influence on me.

That being said, they say the same about me, believing it takes them a month to recover from my trips home… and to that I say ‘Toughen up Princess.’

It’s always interesting coming home – for me its been nothing short of freezing, Perth winter is pretty mild compared to winters in the rest of the world – but after becoming acclimatized to the warm wet air of the tropics, it’s certainly distressed me. Cold blue toes and fingers, inappropriate clothing choices I will use as partial blame for the excessive drinking… after all, alcohol keeps you warm,  right?

One of the main reasons I came to Perth at all (besides the elusive Indonesian visa run) was to meet my best friends little bub J. And boy is he cute. All chipmunk cheeks and goofy smiles. I spent many days (a little hung over) but in the company of the two wonderful boys that have come into my life. Z and J – My nephews who at 15 and 7 weeks respectively have stolen my heart in a way that no other boys ever could.

Its been strange to not be at the beach for 10 days, so I had to head down to the coast for beers and seafood the other day – where we sat outside and the cold salt air bit my lips and dried them out.

There have been many fun times, much laughter, much joy and moments of lust for the place that I grew up. But lust is short-lived here… I know this much. So it is time to pack my bags, kiss my family, charge my laptop and camera and waddle off to the airport to fly back to Jakarta and back to my country of choice.

Indonesia, here I come! Get ready… Barefoot in transit.

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