~*WELCOME TO MY WORLD*~
Now let me begin...
I was born, but I don't remember the details. I would find out later that it was in October and on the 16th but no one ever told me the year. I've been wandering around ageless for years. When someone asks my age I tell them that it is irrelevant and can we move onto the next topic of discussion. We then generally fall into the easy speak of travel.
" Oh, where have you been?"
" I haven't been there, but have you seen?"
... and so on.
My parents did the splitsville thing when I was six months old and I spent the other half of my first year of life living with my fathers parents. I have no recollection of this time. It wasn't until about a year later I realized I wasn't like the other kids, they didn't travel to visit their father on weekends or summer holidays. I did. And so my early years of travel was the forty minute drive from one parents house to the other and back again. I clearly remember those drives with my father, I would pick out landmarks to remind me that we are almost there. He would tell me all he could about our surroundings while The Rolling Stones played on the old Ford Bronco. Back and forth I went for sixteen years. I savoured every minute.
But I really began my jet set life at the age of four. I remember my mother and step-father taking me to Cape Cod. We would go every year, and every year the same armoured suit man by the pool was there and every year he scared the beejeez out of me, and by no chance every year my mother wanted a picture of me with him. One picture does exsist and I have it in my possession, somewhere ... maybe it's only locked in my memory. But I have it.
From when I was very young my father and his wife along with my step-brother would drive or fly to Florida every year. We would splash in the ocean, run around in the motel parking lot, steal money or candy from the vending machines, get extremely sunburned and bathe in milk. I will never forget that experience nor the pain.
It seems to me that my life has always been about getting going. Where to next. Around the age of eight to twelve my father would take me on motorcycle tours through our city and a few new ones along the way. We would also take the boat up and down river and tour the beautiful Thousand Islands.
When I was sixteen, myself and seven other girls drove to Daytona Beach! Oh what a shock! All the people traveling, partying, just having a great time. I couldn't get enough and four years later I moved to Australia. And that's where the real story begins...
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