or: What Do I Call Where I Lay My Hat?

My concept of home is shifting again.

Toward the end of yesterday’s wine tour, I met a fifty/sixty-something year old couple (I’m a hopeless judge of age irrespective of race, gender, generation or skin cream) who returned to South Africa three years ago after completing a second stint in Singapore where they lived for seven years. As an aside, they’re now living in a cottage located in a game park, 45 minutes from the nearest town and one of the farm dogs was eaten by a crocodile last week. This highlights one of my upsides to meeting people and asking questions – I never know what I’m going to learn or how entertaining they’ll be.

Anyway, we got to chatting about Asia, where I’m from (I need to work out a shorter way to answer this one too) what I’ve been up to and what my plans are after leaving Franschhoek. They asked quite a logical question, yet one that stumps me “so where is home then?” I told them it was a really good question and right now home seems to be wherever I am. After a few wines yesterday, this was quite accurate. 

It’s been something I’ve been thinking about for quite some time and my answer changes. It’s likely to change again.

I’ve realised it’s taken me a while to reach this point as earlier in my Cape Town stay, I was asked a longer question, “where is home – Australia or Hong Kong?” and it took me a while to answer this one partly because neither are and partly because they both are. HK is now more familiar to me though culturally, I have more in common with Australia and I still support all their sporting teams. I have friends in both places though family is in Australia.

Returning to HK from Japan late last year, I had the sense of coming home. That said, I get this same feeling when flying into many airports around the world even if I’ve never been to it before. Even places where I know no-one. No, airports are not my home. I figure there must be more to it than this.

Over the past month, I’ve felt at home in Cape Town. I’ve met people, caught up with family, I’ve explored, I’ve shopped, I’ve had similar experiences to what I would if I was living there permanently. I’ve shared an apartment and lived almost like a local. But not quite. 

This had me thinking perhaps home for me is anywhere I am for longer than a couple of days. A place where I shop, eat, meet people and explore as long as I have my own space. Some element of space seems important in my idea of home. It is also about a feeling of comfort and familiarity. 

On some level, I knew this before I set out on this trip. 

I have no real ties anywhere given I’m single, child-free and have the flexibility of being able to travel and many of my friends also enjoy travel. Some of my family are similar and others, I can visit. People talk about putting down roots. Mine appear to be spread across the world. Like couch grass, they are somewhat shallow in parts, well networked and have grown very long tap roots here and there. Places I know I can visit for extended periods, rest, have a good time with either family or friends or both. It is grass that is difficult to rip out. 

As an Australian, there is no such thing as too much grass though it does need some element of upkeep – watering, fertilising, trimming the edges, general mowing and some weeding.

This is partly what this trip is about – exploring my relationships with people and places. Extending more tap roots and deepening those I already have. I will also add to it. 

Perhaps I can then answer properly when I’m asked “where is home?”

For now, it is wherever I happen to be as long as there’s space, I feel comfortable and there’s people I can chat with.

This does help to explain why I’ve overpacked compared to my usual trips – I’m moving home each time!

* Thanks to LCD Soundsystem of the title to this post.