Have you ever visited a place that you loved so much that you thought that you could call it home? There have been so many places that I fell in love with.
Australia for the food, scenery, laid back attitude and high quality of life: 
South Africa for the landscape, wine and wildlife: 
Italy, well let’s face it for the food. Especially the three p’s (pasta, pizza, prosecco) 
Of these three of our favourite countries, it was Australia that really captured our hearts. Spending the day on the beach before having a glass of wine at a beach bar seemed so much more enticing than London weekends spent in the pub while the rain drizzled outside. Catching a boat across the bay rather than being crammed in the tube, eating fresh salads made with local produce rather than grabbing a sandwich for lunch and a laid back attitude that contrasted so strongly to the stressed out London mentality.
As we sat with a drink at The Opera Bar, a clean, warm breeze touching our skin and the smell of the sea in the air, Mr S and I looked at each other…’I could really live here you know?’….’Yeah, I know’….
Despite my love of travel, wanderlust mentality and cravings for adventure, I’d never lived anywhere other than UK. Nor had I ever spent my life as a wandering nomad. Could I do it? Could I really make somewhere else my home? We talked about it but of course Australia was just so far away from my parents, sister and nephew and Mr S’s large extended family…a twenty-four hour flight was a long way. And isn’t home so much more than sunshine and sea air? Home is where the heart is….a place doesn’t make a home, it’s the people that do. 
And though it might rain a lot, there’s a high cost of living and we may not love every political decision made. It’s my home country and I love it…a place with a vivid history, a stiff upper lip, a love of tea, dislike of awkward silences, fish and chips, Yorkshire pudding, the NHS, the queen…remember what made Britain great. It always will be.
