This is a guest post by Efia of Effy Talks Life, and author of the book Girl, Solo – A Modern Guide To Travelling Alone.
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I was never one of those people who fantasized about moving abroad and starting over.
After 26 months of vagabonding, I can now officially say that I am a Sydney resident! :: cue the gasps ::
I just signed a lease on a 2-bedroom apartment in North Bondi, a quick 5 minute walk from the world-renowned Bondi Beach.
This whole *packing up my life and moving to Australia* thing has been WAY easier than I expected it to be. I’ve been mentally preparing myself for an emotionally trying few weeks before departure, and so far I’ve been fine.
55. The approximate number of hours I spent sprawled out in the back seat of our rental car during our 8 days driving around Iceland at the end of this past summer.
My first job out of college was at an investment bank just outside of NYC.
{I’ll pause here for a minute to let you absorb this ridiculous fact.}
After a few weeks of commuting two hours each way from my parents’ house in Bumblef-ck, CT to my office in Stamford, it was clear my life had been reduced to a (sometimes literal) snoozefest.