“No minute gone ever comes back again
Take heed and see ye do nothing in vain”
- Inscription at George’s Terrace- downtown Perth
There is something different about people who come to Australia. There is an element of wanderlust; a motley collection of lost souls. They are nomads, searching for something unknown.
Unlike the mobs who diligently make their way through the “must-sees” of Europe, Australia with where the restless land.
English, Norwegian, Swiss, Dutch—they are all here. They pick up a working visa and set off. No idea where they’re going, how long they will stay, how long they will be gone, what they will do.
There were the three English boys in the hostel in Surfers Paradise. They did manual labor in fields for several months, rented a car and caravanned around until their money ran out, then found another job.
Two of my flat mates: one English, one Dutch. They met a year ago in Australia. They clearly love each other very much. She works in the city, and he works in a mine down South four days a week. After living together for months, their visas are about to run out. She will return to England, him to Holland.
There are the Swiss boys who go to English school on the beach, and spend their days kitesurfing, and nights barbequing in true Aussie tradition.
The 19-year-old German girl who bought a van, and has spent months travelling Australia alone and sleeping in her car wherever she happens to end up.
And, finally, the other international students at UWA. The ones who understand why we chose to come to Perth. We all had the same conversation before leaving:
“Perth? That’s the most isolated city in the world!”
“Yes, I know. That’s the point.”
“Why would you want to go there?
“Because it’s the most isolated city in the world.”
We get it. We’ve collected here from all corners of the globe. It has an aura of separation from the real world. The endless expanses of beach and desert. It is utter calm.