Georgia on my mind...

I thought I was going to fall in love with Savannah, which would have been a bit inconvenient as I’d then want to find a spare month each year to live here as a local. Luckily, I’ve liked it enough to enjoy my week as a southern belle, but not so much that I feel the need to return.

It’s a small town if you discount 90% of the city where it’s not safe to stay as a naïve visitor from out of town. Gun violence is a real problem. Just in the past week there have been three shootings that have left two kids dead and one injured.

It’s suggested that visitors confine themselves basically to the area between Forsyth Park (in the centre of the Google map below) and the Savannah River, with a side visit to Bonaventure Cemetery. You want to be a NOG, which stands for "north of Gaston", the street that runs from west to east across the top of the park.

My friend Sarah and I were booked into two cottages in a lane near the bottom of the park, where we felt a bit exposed and vulnerable. After two days we cut our losses and moved to an inn near the river. We then started ticking attractions off the must-do list for tourists. Once you’ve done that, there’s not much to do other than eat and shop.

We saw two vintage Gregory Peck films (“To Kill a Mockingbird” and “Roman Holiday”) at the wonderful old Lucas Theater, which actor Kevin Spacey helped rescue. I think it’s a shame the theatre doesn’t have regular screenings of “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”, as I would love to have seen it again here. A high percentage of visitors to the historic part of town have read the book or seen the film, and it’s become Savannah’s “brand”.

We visited the art museum, a mansion-turned-gallery and Bonaventure cemetery. A Sunday morning service at First African Baptist Church was a highlight for me. I loved the music and singing, the physical worship and dancing, the sense of community and the very warm welcome we received as visitors from Canada and “Down Under” (as the pastor called Oz). We pedalled our way around the historic streets for an hour in a pedal-powered vehicle with a bucks party from Florida, and we walked the grid that encompasses about 20 city squares complete with live oak trees and Spanish moss.

As I’m not on holiday, I also worked each day from early morning and during some of each afternoon.

Prior to arriving in Savannah we spent a couple of days travelling from New York by train through North Carolina, where I caught up with Dead Runner friend Rietta and my much-missed New York friend Brigitte, and South Carolina, where I regret I didn’t have time to visit Charleston.

Where did those two months go?

My time in New York has just whizzed by. At the end of this week I'm heading south for a fortnight with an old friend from our Hong Kong years and to meet up with Aussie friends for Thanksgiving. Di and Frannie, running pals from Albury, were here for the New York City Marathon. We did some fun things while they were here, including a run in Central Park with former Australian world champion marathoner Rob de Castella and his mob of young indigenous runners.

Me, Rob de Castella, Di and Frannie at the Beacon Hotel, Broadway

We also ran the 5K race that ends at the marathon finish line. I was 55 seconds slower than last year, and two places down in my age group (5th out of 106). Not too shabby, given I didn't run for the first half of the year while my arm healed. It was only my third race for the year; the half marathons in Kuching and Budapest were more like long runs, rather than races. Next year is looking like a more normal year, with a marathon in Pennsylvania in October instead of doing NYC for a second time.

I've gone to see films with Pat and Steve, whom I met last year; and caught up with Ingrid, who was visiting from Santiago; and with Josephine, whom I met at a bus stop last month and who has a Dachshund called Emma. I had a long talk over lunch with CY, who has been a friend since 1986 when we worked together in Hong Kong; and caught up with Selma and Murray, who are in their nineties and still very full of beans. We met in Chile in early 2012.

My Aussie drag queen/performer friend Glace Chase, whose mum's house was next-door to mine in Albury, previewed a new tour called "The Real Bitches of New York", for which I was happy to be a guinea pig. She was a sight to behold on Madison Avenue in heels higher than I would ever dare to wear.

Glace Chase

Runner friend Sun and I checked out the High Line on a gorgeous day just before she started her new job and had to give up being a lady who lunches.

Sun

Maria, as always, has been an absolutely reliable morning running partner; more reliable than I have been. It's taking me a little longer than I'd expected to get back in peak form. Next year is shaping up to be a focused one for training, so I'm hoping to achieve some new goals. Other (ir)regulars are Lissy, Sarah, Heather, Joe, Sun, Andrea, Stephen, John and (this year) Darleen. I don't get to see Joanne or Marie unless I run on Saturdays, which hasn't happened much during this visit. Maria organised a brunch yesterday, which was fun.

My film-going dropped off over the last few weeks as my workload increased. I expect to be juggling a very heavy workload while doing quite a bit of travelling over the next few months. I'm not complaining!!!

There are 8.4 million stories in The Naked City. This is just one of them...

I'm back in the apartment next to Central Park that is my usual Manhattan pad. I love just stepping back into my New York life: the flat, the building, the neighbourhood, the island. I have actually been off-island once since I arrived just under two weeks ago after spending a couple of days in Dublin. I went over to Brooklyn to see an exhibition of high-heeled shoes called "Killer Heels". The rest of the time I've been in Manhattan mode.

As always, I've been bingeing on films: of those I've seen, I enjoyed Nick Cave's "20,000 Days on Earth" and "Finding Fela" (both with Steve); "Advanced Style" (with Maria); "Pride" (with Pat); "My Old Lady", "The Skeleton Twins" and "Art and Craft". Plus I've seen a fun Jeff Koons retrospective at the Whitney, and exhibitions of lingerie and dance costumes with Pat at the Fashion Institute of Technology.

I'm back running in Central Park about four or five mornings a week, though I had to renege on this morning's six-miler when I got a job overnight that needed to be done before my client in Chennai, India, closed up shop for the day. Always terrific to run with Maria and the rest of the 5:30 a.m. crew: Lissy, Sarah, Joe (I haven't caught up with Heather yet), Stephen and John, and last Saturday with Joanne, Marie, Erica and Chris. Also enjoyed a run last week with Dead Runner Michael.

It's five years since I first spent time in New York (10 weeks in mid-2009). I couldn't have imagined then what a big part it would play in my life. And now I have Budapest in my life as well...

A place I formerly called home, Hong Kong, is in tumult this week with the Chinese-appointed government locking horns with peaceful student demonstrators. There have been surreal images of tear-gas attacks in Admiralty and Central. Tomorrow, October 1, is China's national day and a public holiday. Many thousands of HK people are already joining the protestors. The events are reminiscent of the student protests that took place in Tiananmen Square in 1989. Hopefully, the Chinese government will stay calm.

In the zone

I’ve been thinking quite a lot about comfort zones: are they a place or a state of mind?

I think they are primarily a state of mind, or a state of being, that comes with feeling comfortable within yourself. If you feel comfortable in your own skin, are at peace with yourself and enjoy your own company, then this becomes a comfort zone that you can take with you wherever you go and that isn’t dependent on a physical place. 

I have been roaming around the world for over four years now, and as time has gone on I’ve felt more and more that I’m in my comfort zone wherever I am. I’m not talking about always feeling safe. I’ve had accidents, and I’ve probably had many near misses of one kind or another. I try to be very mindful and aware of what’s going on around me, and I trust my instincts and most of my impulses. Life is a sexually transmitted fatal condition. Something is going to get me someday. I just hope that it’s not my destiny to have my life end in an appalling, frightening or painful manner, or way prematurely. I’m not sure how I got to be the age I am now, and I don’t want to waste a second of my remaining time. But I’m not going to wrap myself in cotton wool in a retirement village somewhere and call that my comfort zone.

I am in Budapest on my third visit in a year. I leave in a week’s time. I love the city and the people and my life here. I love that I’ve had an opportunity to share it with old and new friends. A part of me is now a Budapestian, if that’s the correct term. I will leave a part of me here, and something of Budapest will always be with me from now on.

I’m headed back to Dublin, where there is a running network I can tap into, a favourite café and cinema to visit, and a hair appointment to keep. Then I’m returning to New York, where I have my deeply entrenched New York life. I feel comfortable in both places. Part of that comfort comes from the familiarity of the physical place. I like to spend many hours walking around, getting to know a city from the ground up, so I gravitate to places that are pedestrian-friendly. I discover my trail, mark my way, find my own path through a city’s streets. I love routines: going back to places where I am recognised, visiting cinemas discovered during a previous stay, knowing where to find roti when I feel like having Malaysian food.

But feeling comfortable doesn’t depend on my being familiar with a place. I enjoy arriving for a week or a month in a new place and starting from scratch. It’s fun to search out places where I want to eat, to run, to see good art and fine films, to sit and watch this new world go by and start to get to know it.

Sometimes I make a connection with a random person in a new place. We might be standing in the same queue, running around the same park, drinking coffee in the same café, eating in the same restaurant, or visiting the same gallery or museum. If we talk and it feels right, I will ask to see them again. It doesn’t always happen. I don’t ever feel lonely. I have met many people in this way who have become treasured friends. I’m grateful for Facebook, which makes continuing to get to know new people so much easier than email allows.

So, while my level of comfort in many places may manifest as ease with familiar faces and places, with routines and the known, it also enables me to enjoy exploring the new and unfamiliar. Either way, wherever I am, I mostly feel happy, comfortable, safe and grateful. And it’s that state of mind that I think is my comfort zone.

In the past couple of weeks I’ve made quick excursions to Bratislava, in Slovakia, and Graz, in Austria. In Bratislava I got talking to a woman from Arizona while trying to get my bearings at the train station. We spent the afternoon together exploring the old town and the castle. In the evening I saw the wonderful film Boyhood (with Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette).

Store art in Bratislava

This week I took the train to Graz to spend two days with Jackie, my friend of four years from Kuching, who has partnered up with Austrian Michael who lives in Jakarta and was home on leave. Jackie, who owns the Batik Boutique Hotel in Kuching where I always stay, is a powerhouse and an inspiration. I love her dearly, not least for letting me choose films to be screened each week at Friday Night Flicks at the Batik even when I’m on the other side of the world.

A courtyard in Graz

Sue and Neil are special friends from my time in Albury. We shared seven or so wonderful years of dogs, art, films and fun dinner parties with a motley bunch of fabulous folks who became our mob. When Sue and Neil moved to the northern New South Wales coast back in 2008 or 2009, I briefly considered following them. I chose instead to become a nomad. We spent time together in Florence a couple of years ago and this week in Budapest. It was wonderful to share the place with them and to see it work its magic on them, too.

Old and new in funky Budapest

I have been incredibly fortunate in the people I’ve met over the years who have become my family. One of the latest additions to the mob is Jules, whom I met in Budapest last year. She and David are now ensconced here and are my Budapest folk, always open to the idea of food, film, fun and footwork.

Budapest is a most amazing city. It’s the end of summer and the place has a great atmosphere. I’ve been running on Margaret Island, around the streets and in the city park, where next week’s half marathon starts and finishes. I ran it last year as well. David told me about an arthouse cinema just five minutes’ walk from my apartment where I’ve seen about six films, including a few Hungarian ones, in the last couple of weeks, plus a couple at the Puskin and Urania cinemas. After a bit of a drought in the first half of the year I’m really enjoying seeing good films again. And I’ve been working. My full-time job as a freelance editor makes it all possible, which is a comforting thought.

Just say igen

The Hungarian word "igen" means yes. My life has become about saying yes to the opportunities that constantly present themselves. Sometimes the opportunity might be just the chance to say hello to someone. I did that in the immigration queue at Kuching airport a week ago today when I found myself behind three of the Kenyan professional marathoners who had competed in and taken honours at the inaugural Kuching Marathon. I asked them how they'd liked the race and then ended up having quite a long chat with Cecilia, age 26, a 2:50 marathoner who had taken third place that morning. A week later we are now coach and client, and I have a very daunting training program to follow starting 1 September that is intended to bring my half marathon time down below my personal best of 1:47 (1996 in Melbourne). (I placed 9th veteran woman in the Kuching half marathon with a slow 2:12:56 in my longest run since November of last year and even got a cash prize and a handshake up on the podium.)

Support was at hand when I suffered leg cramps following the Kuching half marathon

I keep saying yes to Kuching because of the wonderful people I've gotten to know there over the past four years.

Another opportunity to say yes was an impulse to call into the boutique hotel in Sultanahmet, Istanbul, where I had stayed for a month in 2011, when I was in the vicinity last week on a short stopover. I was greeted with big hugs and apple tea, and decided then and there I needed to spend more time in that amazing city.

The Blue Mosque

Pistachio and vanilla pudding from my favourite dessert shop

Now I'm in Budapest again, which is very, very high on my list of favourite places in the world. It's easy to say igen to just about everything the city has to offer: fabulous food, great arthouse cinemas, groovy street culture, wonderful architecture, fascinating history, funky art and design, fun friends made last year, and perfect late-summer weather.

My local cinema

Excess baggage

One of the real challenges of being a global nomad is living out of a suitcase. I’m lucky to be able to store some clothes in New York, which will have been my point of departure and ultimate destination whenever I’m not there, but I sometimes have to pack for different climates, different types of activities and differing amounts of time. When I next unlock the door of the apartment on the Upper West Side where I always stay when in New York, I’ll have been away for nine months. It’s far too long, and it requires that I take with me too much stuff.

I’m not overly concerned with having to pay excess baggage costs; what bothers me is the feeling that I’m being weighed down by things. I need both hands in order to manage a medium-size suitcase, a carry-on case and a laptop bag. That’s one hand too many. It limits my options and makes me vulnerable.

I’m now in my fifth year of global vagabondage and I still haven’t figured it out.

Having just spent two months in Australia and New Zealand, I realise I’m carrying a lot of excess emotional baggage, too. Old hurts weigh too heavily and serve no purpose in my new life. Even if I haven’t yet found a way to meet all of my sartorial needs with what I can fit into a carry-on case, I can try my best to lighten the psychic load I'm carrying.

After a quick visit to Melbourne and Bendigo to spend time with very special friends Martyn and Claire, Barb and Bill, Bill and Sal, and Gordon and Joanna, I’m now happily back in Kuching with my cobbled-together family of very fit and wacky Sarawakians.

Retro Rotorua

Whenever I'm in Rotorua, it's like stepping back in time. We spent a year living here just after I turned 13 and for me it's never really changed from that town. My father still lives here, and I have a friend from my schooldays I'm still in touch with. I've visited most recently in 2004, 2005, 2008, 2010, 2012 and now 2014. I've run two half marathons and a marathon here. On this very short visit to see my father I've been juggling working on the job that has consumed most of my time since March. But I've spent some stretches of hours with Dad, including a lunch with a bunch of his friends today to celebrate his 85th birthday. I've met some of them a few times over the years. Nice people!

Prior to crossing the Tasman I spent a few days at Bondi Beach, another place where I used to live. It wasn't primarily a social visit, but I was able to catch up with a few friends. Susan H I hadn't seen in over 30 years! Photographer friend Anne Z was in Morocco with our mutual friends there just recently. She and I caught up in the new gallery precinct in Chippendale. Debra and Tony and I spent last Christmas together in Seville, in Spain. We had a quick catch-up at Paddington Market on Saturday. And I spent a couple of hours earlier that morning walking to Bronte and back to Bondi with work colleague Catherine and former colleague/now friend and co-author of my book project, Katie.

My time in Albury has been spent working, seeing friends and trying to get back into regular running. It's harder than I'd expected. I'm sort of wondering what I'm doing there in the middle of winter for two months. I needed to be settled if I was to have any hope of meeting my tight work deadline, but I feel like I'm treading water. I want to get back to my real life... I especially miss New York!!!