In the cold bleak winter of 1998 in Co Antrim, I remember waiting for the bus dressed in my travel agent’s uniform of pink tartan with a Hawaiian shirt to match.
I spent my days selling holidays and cruises all over the world. Staring longingly at the shopfront, between serving customers, my feet were itchy again.
The same feeling had ignited my passion for travel when I came across an ad as a 17-year-old girl. The local newspaper was advertising for nannies to work in Belgium. Circling the ad with a red pen, it made sense to apply for the job.
After a year of working as an au pair in Belgium, seeing the country and travelling to neighbouring countries, I returned to Ireland to live. I started a travel agents’ apprenticeship. Being able to explore other places and understand them was important to me.
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An Australian girl living in my hometown spoke fondly about Australia. She was Armenian and worked as a bricklayer. Her stories of Australia and the hot steamy summers conjured up images of being by the beach in a small diner. It was a welcome picture compared to the blustery winds of Ireland.
Watching Australian soaps on television helped imprint the quintessential stereotypical image of Australia I had in my mind and encouraged me to hand in my notice.
The sense of disconnection was strong enough for me to stay in Ireland for nearly two years. My son’s first words were said with an Irish brogue
At my going-away party in our cramped terrace house, I remember my mother saying: “She will never be back.”
Mum was right to a certain extent, but it was never my intention to make Australia my home. I came home for Christmas every year and home for longer when my son was born.
The isolation of Australia had really hit me when my son was born. No extended family to give me a hand. No relatives to come knocking on the door for a chat and cuddle. I wanted my son to be cherished by family and to understand Irish culture.
The loneliness engulfed me.
Living in a small town in north-western Australia, where the temperatures reached 40 degrees, I craved being able to take my son out for walks in his pram in a cooler climate. That need encouraged me to sell everything and return to Ireland with a nine-week-old baby in my arms.
The sense of disconnection was strong enough for me to stay in Ireland for nearly two years. My son’s first words were said with an Irish brogue. Family and friends doted over my son, which made it harder to leave again.
A wedding in Australia pulled me back to its sunny shores and before you knew it life was moving at a fast pace. The ease of job and study opportunities cemented my decision to stay in Australia.
Perth, Kununurra, Adelaide and Katherine are all beautiful places, but even after 25 years here I still think about Ireland. An Indigenous friend told me that no matter where you go, you will always be searching for home. I had to agree with him.
Conversations with Australians talking about the lollies and sweets they ate as children and about television programmes they watched when they were growing up made me miss home even more. Unable to join in or contribute to these conversations, it seemed as if I was forever on the outside looking in. An eternal observer.
Although my time in Australia has been positive and full of opportunities, I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed in Ireland
Stepping off the plane in Ireland, the familiarity of people speaking with an Irish accent instantly made me feel at home.
Simple things like using the phone in Ireland were natural and easy. No longer did I have to read out words letter by letter, particularly words such as mirror or tea towel. Childhood references about Tayto cheese and onion crisps and running to the corner shop to get a 10p mix were memories I could relate to. Complex conversations about the politics of the country did not have to be explained. People just understood.
In the 25 years I have lived in Australia, which is three years more than I have lived in Ireland, that sense of disconnection is increasing.
As I get older, it is increasingly important for me to connect and interact with people I can easily relate to. Technology has made it easier for me to connect with friends and family at home. FaceTime calls with family and conversations with friends are like a cosy blanket wrapping me up in layers of cultural norms.
Although my time in Australia has been positive and full of opportunities, I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed in Ireland. Surrounded by family and friends, my son’s life and mine would surely have been different.
The longer I live abroad the more I romanticise Ireland. I know it is not all green fields and Irish accents.
Perhaps wherever we go we are always missing somewhere.
- Lynsey Patterson lives in Katherine in the Northern Territory. She was born in Ballymena, Co Antrim and moved to Australia in 1998. She is a high-school teacher.
- If you live overseas and would like to share your experience with Irish Times Abroad, email abroad@irishtimes.com with a little information about you and what you do
