The possibility of London

For several years — almost since our family came back to New Zealand in 1998, in fact — I've been wanting to go overseas.

Initially, of course, I wanted to have a home, to experience a little security in an unsettled life. The longest I had lived in one country at a time was three years; I had spent most of my life overseas.

Ten years later, I'm done with security. I've lived in Palmy for eight years, and I'm sick of it. But I have to live here until I've finished my degree, and until we've got Dan's house ready to rent or sell.

Then an idea occurred. Working holidays! We could get visas to work in England or Scotland for a year, we could visit Italy, France, Germany. We'd be in the hub of Europe, surrounded by other countries, other cultures. I enjoyed living in Glasgow, back in the day, and I loved staying on the outskirts of London once, in this big old-fashioned mansion with its own library and park and ruined fortress. And the shopping! Oh, I remember the shopping. It would be a dream come true to live with Europe at my fingertips, if only for a year.

It's still all hypothetical, but if only it could happen! I'll work next year, save up; Dan has a cousin over there who could probably get Dan a job before we even go, and then (from what I've heard) I could get a bar job quickly; explore London during the day. Maybe/hopefully I could even get a job which utilises my degree, especially if I can get a job in 2009 which gives me good experience.

I've been wanting to talk about this for weeks, but it's still all so hypothetical and unlikely and beautiful that I hardly want to write it down, in case nothing happens. And we have friends who've taken off overseas; they've spent all their money and come home broke.

It's so exciting and improbable. But if it happens... a dream come true.