"So How Long Are You Staying?"

It's time. Today's the big day. I've been staying at Tawney's for six days, tomorrow makes exactly one week. The questions has arose a couple of times and I feel a bit like I'm over staying my welcome. Not that anyone has been anything but hospitable! But this would be chapter one of my future book, Clarify How Long You Wish to Stay. (how to be a good house guest 101... coming soon) 

The lay of the land is like so.. six artsy, quirky, studenty, inhabitants living in a beautiful "fringe of the city" abode. Which they call the rustic zoo. Amongst them is a hierarchy of cats, who are also escape artists. Everyone is in uni and working so although six in one house seems like a lot, I've only just met everyone. The house is a super cute, 70's ish built full of character on it's own. Sadly after their lease is up will be demolished.

They have a gorgeous backyard that has a gate to a creek with a bike path. Need I say anything more except I have fallen in love here. Where I fall into place / have already fell is of all places , in the garage! The garage is the party pad, the art studio and a hidden gem. It has a small loft, equipped with a bed, two couches , discarded art and hopefully a sleeping beauty. *cough cough* seriously though I sleep so well up there it's like sleeping in one of Van Gough's dreams. 

I have slept up there the passed three nights, coexisting with everyone in the morning rush, than off to our scheduled duties. Mine include trying to find a job and wandering around on my bike trying to look busy. Both of which trying my sanity. More successfully, I was busking again, so I will do that more often. And I'm starting a job tomorrow that is biking distance, so If I can in fact live here things will be swell!

My dilemma is how do I go about asking the question! Like I'm actually nervous. I wrote a cheesy love note but is that too much? Should I choreograph a dance? Or burn candles in the backyard to spell out can I live here? I've been mentally tallying my assets: I can afford to pay rent. Most important asset. I'm tidy. I bake uuhhh I'm fun... Like they don't have to say yes. I don't think they will say no based on the vibes but in reality they could say no.

Whenever it comes up I've been like "I'm hoping to move into the loft, I just need the chance to talk with everyone ." and finally last night I got an in. "Tomorrow night should be good" Which is perfect because it's the last of the month so rent should be due soon... 

Deep breath in , and exhale. "I love you guys and can I please live in your garage." 

The Perks of Being a Couch Surfer

4:50pm the driver went on the intercom and announced we’d be at the station in about ten minutes or 5pm.. whichever came first. I was the only one to laugh hysterically out loud. Thus began my time in Melbourne.

Greyhound seems to always be on time. Even at home I used to take it to my mom’s city almost every weekend. And in all my experiences they are precisely on time. Unlike my ride from the station, who was my first couch surfing host here and the first peculiarity of my Melbournian adventure.

I won’t disclose a name but it was a man. A delay in pick up time was the least of my worries. It gave me a chance to walk around the city and the fact that he offered to pick me up was already a great favour. The delay was because of a white night festival happening in the city so a lot if roads were closed. Anyways we met and he proposed we go to the festival but I was pretty tired and in need of a shower so it was a no for me.

The car ride to his place was about 30 minutes of usual introductory banter. Where are you coming from, what are your plans in Melbourne, How do you pronounce your name. Ah okay nice to meet you “Raw sha” a few corrections and laughs than we arrived at the humble abode.

For those who don’t know “couch surfing” it’s an app that creates a platform for connecting people in need of a place to sleep, with people who have a space to offer, for no cost and short term. I did it for the first time two weeks ago in Tasmania and have been using it in between friend’s couches with no problems in fact only great stories and hosts until him..

*intensity building drum roll*

The peculiarity as pre-referenced was mainly based on his character and things he said.

1. He said he lives with flat mates and rents out the space when they’re away. But this place looked like my mother’s house. Surely not a place where two or three men are living.

2. He always wanted to take a picture of or with me.

3. Just an overall subtle creepiness. 

He came across as a nice guy, amiable and such. Than mid conversation he would inject a comment that was overtly flirtatious. The whole experience was uncomfortable and I made arrangements to leave the next day (despite booking for two more nights).

I booked viewings for two apartments. The first one was absolutely amazing but since I had the other one booked I said I’ll go as a courtesy and come back. BIGGEST MISTAKE OF MY DAY. The second one I booked canceled on me when I was already on my way there. I called the first people saying I was coming back now annddddd they sold the room to someone who was staying three months ... compared to me staying only two months..

Day two in Melbourne . Tier two of bags under my eyes.  Straw three of my patience. I was on the train looking at hostels online and cradling my bank account. In between trains I stopped to use the public bathroom. Filled my water bottle, took some time to pep talk myself and then headed back to the platforms.

Just going through the gates I noticed a familiar walk amongst the fast moving Melbournians. Surely, distinctively, the walk belonging to only a French man named Nicholas! (My ex flatmate! Read brothers from another mother) Sure enough it was! I was so excited to see him I gave him a rose I had picked earlier and we made plans to meet again.

I would say this is when the wheels of serendipity began to turn. On the next train, as I was about to confirm my booking for two nights at the YHA my friend Ashley replied to my message. I could stay at his flat if I still needed a place. The sweetest most beautiful words to my ears. Aside from do you need to do a load of laundry before you leave.

In Bali a few of my mates were from Melbourne so we’ve stayed in touch via group chat on Facebook. It’s been just over two weeks since we left Bali and we’ve all still kept up contact. Which for me has been quite refreshing, to have a lasting connection with such cool people! That same day my friend Tawney also said I could also stay with her starting Wednesday.

So I spent two nights with Ashley at his uni-lodge with his 2.5 housemates, .5 as in a friend who sleeps there sometimes but doesn’t officially live there. Ash made dinner, I bought pie and wine, we watched movies and I played scrabble with his friends. It was like having a sleepover with your best friend on a weekday! Except he went to work and I went to the library and on a walking tour.

I still haven’t found a job or an apartment so I’ve been contemplating how much time I will actually spend here. With my savings I could afford to take some time to travel to the next big city and look for work there. I’m still undecided but I’ll have accommodation with Tawney for a little while to get my footing.

Tuesday I left Ash’s and booked another couch surf for that night. I went there to drop off my bags, than meet up with Nicholas for a movie! So so sooo good to catch up with that quirky French man. And this couch surf host is amazing. He busks for a living, he is full of genuine stories and kindness, I wish I had him the first day. His name is Joshua , we’ve made plans to catch up again so that’s a tally on the ‘should stay’ side of my Melbourne chart.

Wednesday after spending the day chatting, eating and musicing with Joshua he drove me to Tawneys. And here I am Thursday Morning! It’s been six days in Melbourne. Based on the first I thought it would be the demise of my travels. Now I would say it’s one of my favourite parts. All good stories start with a weirdo I suppose and everything since has worked out with such a flow of lovely people and ever better hospitality.

Tawney and I filled each other’s ears and wine glasses with what’s happened in our lives since Bali. I will make cinnamon rolls today, whilst continuing the job hunt. Tawney’s share house has this huge garage/ party pad in the backyard I may possible seek refuge in for the next month.  So I’m grounded again and surrounded by beautiful people. This adds like 7 tallies to the ‘should stay’ side.  I only have 2 months left in Australia, I would love to spend them with a great circle of people and feeling comfortable.

ps. I've decided I'm going to write a book. How to be a good house guest 101. Stay tuned.

The Mirrors Approval

Just a little intro for the poem, I wrote this when I was living in Sydney. At the time when I first gained quite a lot of weight and was feeling blah. Without further adieu ...


The Mirrors Approval


I ask once when I wake up
The residence of slumber on my face
What I choose for breakfast
Or what I choose for my waist

I ask again
Getting ready for work
Getting ready for the world
Mass media contrasts of whos wearing it best.

Don't get left out of these boxes
Fit in like the rest
Fit in
Like the rest
I ask again
Fit into the required confinements for my flesh.

Clothing, simple
Yet lately I feel the simplicity of it all beginning to digress.
Over examinations of the female physique
If I'm not that shape
I must be a freak

Before I head out the door
I ask again
Mirror mirror on the wall
My expectations for your approval,
Like my self esteem ,
Are small.

Everything is Better With a Bag of Rice

Medium grain, Australian, white rice.

Store brand... but still nice.

Pinky coloured sack,

Needed two hands to carry you home,

Hurt my back

It’s a shame I can’t hold you forever

But I will always remember,

What brought us together.

Ahh Everyone remembers their first time. The moment is still so fresh for me. I was so nervous, ready to go home early and never expected to finish on top! By the end of the night I was holding 5 extra kg and it never felt so good. I won my first ever poetry slam! According to the m.c I can officially add “award winning poet” to my resume (unemployment look out. I’m poetic af) My award you ask... a bag of rice! Totally unexpected. Regardless of the nature of the situation..a one mic stand if you will.. I will nurture and care for this rice, it will never feel neglected!

Imogen’s pantry is stocked so even if it sits there for 18 years until it can support its self and hate me for leaving it behind .. at least I know it had a better home than I could provide. The thing is it’s waaay to heavy for me to travel with. When Imogen came to pick me up she asked “is that literally all of your worldly possessions” yes ma’am! One huge hiking bag and a small backpack. “I’m already carrying all my 101 possessions unfortunately I have no room for a 5kg bag of rice”.

Shout out to Imogen for being the awesomest host and letting me crash on her couch! I messaged her at 1am Monday like HAY GURL, is it still okay if I come down for a couple days. Then I showed up at 8am .... and I’ve already been here a couple days x 2.... I think I mentioned it in my last post but we met in Bali. We were both interns for Global Hobo and basically our friendship blossomed over how often she had called me a weirdo and how often she’d corrected my pronunciation for Canberra. (I was saying Cananberra for so long..)

It’s funny because in Bali she told me about these slam nights she goes to and I was like WOAH DUDE POETRY SLAM  , how cool would it be if when we meet again we go... Well if life isn't full circle I don't know what is. And last night she enthused me to read my poem! She has been so dang kind and I hope she loves rice because in return for her hospitality I’m expressing my gratitude with a 5kg bag.

Once you’ve seen what I’ve seen. Been where I’ve been, poeted what I’ve poeted. You’ll understand a 5kg bag of rice is truly an honour to receive. Namaste.

A couple of days has turned into a week... I got to her place Tuesday night. Wednesday we went to an art gallery, today I just chilled looking for job in Melbs . Kinda stressing about that but maybe I can channel that stress into more poetry and have this be the start of my new career?!?! Tomorrow Imogen’s taking me on a tour of Parliament and a multicultural festival! And Saturday I’ll catch a Greyhound to Melbourne.

As a farewell we shall whip up some rice pudding and pancakes!! Probably rice pancake if that’s possible because there’s just so much rice to use. If only I could pay my fare with rice... that’d be nice. Sugar and spice. En route to Melbourne with a bank account like ice. If I can’t get a job I might have to exercise a vice.

By the way I will separately upload the poem I read last night. Until Melbourne my friends. 

Peace and love or rice and poetry <3

Goodbyes and See You Laters

Well what an appropriate day to end my one week romance with Tasmania. Happy Valentine’s day! Tassie and I had our honey moon weekend at Party in The Paddock, I couldn’t have asked for a better farewell. I wish my whole life was a music festival; it’s like a big loving family camping trip. The Cali family basically adopted me. I was introduced to their friends as the girl they rescued from Facebook, who came from Canada/Sydney/Bali/Brazil? I don’t know where someone got Brazil from but I had corrected that part of the story a few times.

All those beautiful humans are who really made me fall in love in Tasmania. I’m sure I’ll be sharing the story with my great great great grand kids. They will tell their friends about their nomad OG-Ma who used Facebook to escape homelessness, saw Sticky Fingers last performance (pre hiatus...) and slept in vans with strangers.

The hardest goodbye was Sticky Fingers though. The whole set felt like a dream, one of those ones you wake up from and try to snap yourself back into. It was a heart breaking and beautiful end to the week. And I’m swearing by the word HIATUS. Paddy seemed so adamant in emphasising the word before the last song. Time shall tell I suppose. This was my 4^th time seeing them and if I see a 5^th before my 100^th birthday I’ll die the happiest women who ever existed on earth.

The love has just kept on following me since Tassie and I ended things. I flew back into Sydney at 11pm and booked the soonest Greyhound to Canberra which was 4am... so I was chilling like a villain around central station. Literally had cock roaches invade my space and people ask me if I needed food.

So I went where every almost homeless person goes at midnight. McDonalds! I sat and I sat for wayyyy to long, taking up way to many seats with all my bags.

This guy came over and asked if he could sit, so I had to pack up house and fit my 3 bags and I into an appropriate sized table. From my humble ketchup splattered abode I watched this fellow unpack his take out bag laying napkins, forks etc in perfect little rows. Then he took out the main course.. Pancakes!!

He obviously noticed I was watching him the whole time, he looked over at me and I asked him "why pancakes at midnight?" What a silly question. One simply does not need a reason to eat pancakes. He said he just bought a house on a hill for him and his dog Jean. So he’s working all hard to provide for the fam and "doesn’t always have time to enjoy pancakes at 12:30am." Before he left he gave me a hash brown and a ketchup from the end of the row. What a legend! Salutations my good man and enjoy your hilltop home!

From there I went to sit outside a club because eves’ dropping on drunken peoples conversations is better than talking to the cockroaches..Whilst sitting on a comfortable and conveniently positioned bench I met these 2 guys who were walking to get food, thought I was homeless and offered to get me something. I don’t know if it was just the Valentines love in the air but I was more flattered than worried about being mistaken as homeless again. They followed me on Instagram and continued their journey.

As did I with but an hour and a half until the bus came. I wandered, weary but not famished to the 7/11 closest to the bus stop. God bless 7/11 for being open 24 hours. Got me some yogurt aaannndd a valentine!

He was in line taking ages looking for the cheapest cigarettes. We started talking outside and like He’s one of those guys that just has this energy and charm. So naturally and genuinely. We talked about dance pants, castles, our travels and almost made plans to travel the world together.

The start of every good love story am I right? We had become best friends by the time the bus came around the corner, he helped me carry my bags, gave me his hat and beautiful hug. The hat was so random I said "I don’t even wear these types of hats" and he said "neither do I".. . I offered him some peanut butter, being the sweetheart he is he declined the offer with the reasoning "I would probably need it more". Goodbye/see you later was a pinky promise to meet again whenever, wherever. Until then I’ll remember him with every crunchy spoon full of skippy.

This has totally been the longest and Happiest Valentine’s day I’ve had. Since I departed from Tassie last night until now I’ve had 2 hours sleep, during the 4 hour bus ride to Canberra. Now I’m waiting to meet up with my friend Imogen, who I met in Bali. I’m sleeping at her place for a couple days than en route to Melbourne. Then my least favourite part... JOB HUNTING... Maybe all the love that has followed me will make me more employable. If not, hopefully I keep meeting beautiful strangers and sharing edible offers of love. <3

Tasmania and I: Till Monday Do Us Part

Okay so I’m in love. Like it may be the real stuff. Through thick and thin. Over long walks and garlic bread.. Tasmania and I have only known each other for 3 days and I can already foresee a very happy future.

The sole purpose of this trip is to go to the festival “Party in the Paddock” (PITP). BECAUSE IT’S STICKY FINGERS LAST SHOW. (Indefinitely) I basically just bought the ticket in a moment of hiatus shock and kind of can’t afford it.

Thanks to the internet and God caring so much about my love for Sticky Fingers I have just managed my whole trip with a $0 budget. Zero in the grand scheme and by “grand scheme” I mean like I booked couch surfing and then will be camping at the festival so boom accommodation sorted. I do actually have money, just very little and I still need to get to Melbourne, but since I got here I’ve kept the 0 rolling!!

The first day with my couch surfing host was full of awesomeness he picked me up from the airport. Awesomeness #1. Invited me to a Church bbq!! And he is a part time acrobat. He was born in Africa, traveled the world with his mates and in a circus than had his big break on Australia’s got talent. He didn’t do any back flips or balance me on his head but he let me drive his car and try his expensive butter. (Awesomeness total : 8)

The next day I got a reply from an ad I put in the Launceston Community page, to do some house cleaning. The place was a walking distance from where I was staying, the people where cool, at the end of the day I made $65 and bought me a nice avocado.

2 days deep and Tasmania has seen me as sweaty, broke and pimple faced .. this is how I know it’s true love! Of course all great loves have down falls... ours happened last night when I realized I messed up my booking so actually had to check out today and it was too late to extend. There was no more couch surfing hosts available and no air bnb in my budget.

I had been in contact with some people for a ride to the festival and they asked where to pick me up, than I basically spilled my homeless heart out and luckily they had a spare room for me to seek refugee until Friday! In wake of these serendipitous, marvellous, 2 days; and the past heart healing, sisterhood, creativity fusion I had in Bali. I’m feeling particularly confident which I think plays a big role in all this networking.

I tried my confidence with some busking today, outside of a local shopping center. In between the long trains of coin connected shopping carts pushed by super enthusiastic minors and wayward glances from old people and toddlers. I sang a collection of ukulele covered songs, classics and mainstream alike! With a variety of basic strum patterns and arrangements of the only 6 chords I know. I made $30 in an hour and had a faithful audience, consisting of these 3 guys who literally just stood there the whole time. I thanked them kindly for their loyalty.

Now here I am at the home of the fellow PITP goers. They’ve more than welcomed me into their humble abode! THE ROOM HAS A DOUBLE BED. They shared dinner with me. GARLIC BREAD.  (spoken word 2k17) They also have the cutest dogs and are near a walking trail to a beautiful nature reserve. Which I shall go to tomorrow!

Thus far it’s all working out beautifully. I’ve met all these people who’ve been traveling nomadically, off of goodwill and odd jobs. But never really was brave or knew enough to travel that way.  My first 7 months in Australia I spent just in Sydney. Which now sounds crazy because I only have 3 months left of my visa...Half of me is saying “WHY DIDN’T I DO THIS SOONER”. The other half is like “child you became wise and prosperous during that time of settlement. Let it now guide you”.

So here I am. Hot and heavy into a one week romance with Tasmania. Fed, sheltered and positive. Catch me outside Kmart. How bout some spare change?

Hatti Hatti Di Jalan

Half the globe has welcomed home some hobo’s already. The other half is awaiting, as we say ‘sampai jumba’ to Bali, our villa and the remaining hobo babes. It’s been a really wicked month with you all. Bali has this charm that really took us in wrapped us in an intricate and delicate banana leaf bowl. Then we just sort of stuck together all warm inside whilst Go-Jek brought us where we needed to be.

Since the first time we were blessed by the spectacle that is Ashley’s dancing. To the top of mount Batur. Every Nyoman and Maday between late night Apotek or Pepito runs. Hobo’s we survived the ‘Bali belly’, the taxi mafia’s, scooter accidents, torrential down pours and bedroom terrors from a-z! All whilst building Mikayla’s alcohol tolerance and a sister hood of the traveling gecko.

I just want to say a big ole mispronounced Terimakasi, for being such wonder filled humans. For spilling your hearts out into 1200 words and sharing the stories fearlessly. The amount of support involved in that alone is something to be a proud part of. A Passion for travel and writing brought us all to Bali, at different stages of our individual stories.

 I really think reading and sharing those stories was not just a literary tasks but also super enlightening. All of our pieces share heartbreak, humor or an unconditional passion for change. We’ve had this time away from narrating our lives yarn, to connect and create with each other. The total honesty in our pieces, personally has been a huge breath of fresh air.

Unconcealed. I think this is the right word ..

1.       Hobo life brings people together in a way that is stripped of any prejudgement and conceit

2.       Villa Surya Abadi  has definitely seen the most nudity it could handle

We’ve all been like extras in a Bali-wood movie! We better come back here for a Big Fat Bali wedding in our 27 Traditional Dresses. Or Fast and Furious 17: Canguu Drift. . Whether or not any of us becomes a prolific writer extraordinaire, at least we know we have a couch available across the world or the country. Maybe Tawney will start up a successful Warung in Australia that we can write reviews for.

Where ever life takes you from here, if that’s Canada at some point please come see me <3 If it’s the Emmy’s for best director or script writer I’m expecting an invite!

Ps. Gemma, Nat and Scout keep being beautiful and putting your love into raising the Global Hobo baby through puberty and awkwardness because I hope one day it will reach adulthood, full of awesome stories for the grandkids.

peace and love <3