Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree

Well, I foolishly made the mistake of telling a few friends that I was going to write a blog about my adventures, misadventures and general feelings about working and exploring Australia. I suppose deep down I thought it would be a good and therapeutic thing to do but knowing myself as I do I assumed it was something I would never get around to, however as my friends have now been mentally casting the film version of this blog I feel obliged to give it a go. Considering I only have a basic grasp of the English language I feel they may well be expecting a little too much of me.
Right, to the point I guess. I have just got on the first of two First Great Western trains to Gatwick Airport from a small ish town in South Devon. This is the first leg of an approximate 30 hour journey to Sydney, Australia.
Why I am going is indeed a good question and one that I am yet to fully answer myself. I made a somewhat rash decision to go a few months ago whilst visiting my brother in China- the thought of me going from that amazing place and getting back in to the same routine depressed me and I wanted to shake things up a bit. So I considered my options- applied for my visa and as luck would have it I also managed to get a job secured before I left as a Recruitment Consultant in central Sydney.
Things have moved scarily fast and here I am on an extremely bumpy train feeling rather nauseous due to a combination of nerves, rank coffee, travelling backwards and looking at this computer screen. To the right of me I have one large black suitcase, which I would like to say (for dramatic purposes) contains my life, in actuality it contains what is left of my wardrobe. I have managed to get it up on to the trains designated racks and I cant help but continuously stare at it- protecting it- like one of the other passengers are going to run off with it at the next stop, hurling my denim shorts and frayed leggings down the platform.
In a way I am grateful for feeling as sick as I do, as most of my energies are concentrated on not throwing up on the kind looking man sitting opposite me, and not on feeling sad about the goodbyes I have had to make to my friends and family or the crippling nerves about what lies ahead.
That said, I am going to sign off for now, I've needed a wee for like an hour and I have to face the dilemma of what I should do with my bags-do I take them with me down the carriage or to take the gamble of leaving it on the seat?! Argh!

Much love
xxx