‘What’s the craziest thing you have ever done?’

That’s the question I was asked on the spot today and going solo to Australia came immediately to mind. I’ve always had this fantasy about Australia, I think I got it from watching Home and Away religiously for 10 years. It was a faraway paradise filled with teenagers like me who surfed all day, drank milkshakes served up by Irene, and had exciting adventures in the sun.  With this picture in my head I headed off last summer, last minute, to represent the Irish family at my cousins wedding in Newcastle, three hours north of Sydney.

I scraped all the money I had earned over the summer together and kissed my Mum for paying my air fare (it was her nephew’s wedding). Standing on Sydney bridge I had to pinch myself. I couldn’t believe that after 24 hours in the air I was standing in front of one of the iconic buildings in the world. Boy, I had really done it.

My friend Aoife not only shared her bed (tops and tails) but also took time out from her busy college timetable to show me around and I enjoyed the time I spent with her as never before. We had a terrific time catching up my Australian friends that I met in Greece but I also got to know her friends.

There were 3 ‘must do’ things for me in Australia, stand on the steps of the Opera House, see a kangaroo hopping along and say ‘good day’ to Mr. Stuart on the set of Home and Away.

Well so much for fantasies.   The Opera House is certainly real but kangaroos didn’t leap about the bush as our plane came into land in Sydney (as I hoped they would…really?) In fact I had to pay $25 to pet an old, barely moving specimen at a reptile park to satisfy this fantasy.

But the greatest disappointment of all was Summer Bay.  There was no surf club, no Alf Stuart…not even one house or a shop or a restaurant…not even a garden chair.  Summer Bay does not exist……surprise…… surprise!

Now, like all fantasies that are subjected to scrutiny, mine of Australia are more realistic.   Australia is great and the people are wonderful but its just another place to be happy or sad.  That’s what travel does I think.  It teaches you that people are important not places……and that you shouldn’t believe all you see on television.

……….and I’ve stopped watching Home and Away.

When is Cinderella too old to go to the ball?

The Comm ball, the Comm ball, the Comm ball, we’ve been talking about it for weeks. The talk was all about vintage, short or long gowns, whether to rent or to buy, but I, like Cinderella, didn’t feel like I was going to the ball at all. Last minute my fairy godmother (my Mum) waved her magic wand (the sewing machine) and made a few minor adjustments to my old debs dress.  Before I knew it I was all glammed up and ready to go.

My mood was excited…..bordering on hysterical by the time I cowered under an umbrella trying not to get soaked getting to my friends house for pre-drinks. An air of expectation diffused through the group as we drank wine and rekindled our Canadian friendships.  Stories of our exploits were retold hilariously and we attempted to take photographs posing as we had done for nights out in Canada.

The theme of the ball was circus, the food delish and we enjoyed the banter as we passed around the bread rolls and refilled our glasses many times. The part of the ball I usually really enjoy the most, the dancing and the chatter, lay ahead but this year by twelve o clock I realized that the best part of the night was over. Looking at the first years excitement at being at their first ball made me think back to my own first ball days and I realized that this was going to be my last. I called my chariot (my Mum) at one o’ clock and gratefully kicked my shoes off in the car, my feet numb with pain.

No wonder Cinderella left her ball at twelve and kicked off her slippers even before she reached her carriage….they were made of glass for God’d sake….she must have been in agony.

When it is really time to grow up?

Having read an article recently on the behavioural patterns of Japanese youths between the ages of 18-25, I began thinking about our own behavior. On the exterior young adult Japanese appear to be westernized in clothing and other aspects of their lives but once they reach a certain old, approx. 25, they revert to traditional values. Up to the age of 25 appears to be the time in their lives when they are allowed to explore their personal more then traditional world. However, eventually they will conform and “do the right thing”.

This got me thinking, ‘Are we any different?’

What are our core values? A child dies every 30 seconds, there are riots on the streets in Athens because the economic structure we belong to are breaking down, children are going to school hungry in the morning because their parents are out of jobs.   This is the harsh reality of life all around us.

However, I feel like I’m seeing all this through a glass wall, a trouble free bubble of security and warmth.  In my bubble the things that are important to my generation are not who will save the Euro Zone or how can we stop people trafficking. We are more likely to ask,

When will the next new iPhone be out?

What will I be wearing in the spring and can I predict the trends before my friends?

Will my favorite ball gown cut it at this year’s Commerce ball?

Is Facebook actually going to start charging money to use it?

The question really is, ‘ When is it time to break the glass and emerge into the world where real things are happening?’

It’s scary to leave the world inside the bubble and yet there are all sorts of exciting things to be experienced and explored out there. When is the right time to leave that comfort zone behind?

Nothing real will ever really happen if I stay here.

Roll on graduation….not!