Posts Tagged ‘Adelaide’

I mentioned in this blog post that I got dragged kicking and screaming from the Adelaide Hills so I thought I’d tell you a little about our time there. We arrived in Adelaide from the UK on Australia Day in 2007 after a year long wait for our residency visas. I loved the place from the minute I got there. We moved straight into a rental I had found through an online forum in the Adelaide Hills in a lovely little village called Piccadilly and I thought I’d found my own little piece of paradise.

What is it that I loved about the Adelaide Hills you ask? You might regret asking! I loved the colours and smells of the gum trees. I loved the birds; the lorikeets, magpies and kookaburras. I loved the sunshine and the laid back life style. I loved my coffee girls, the wonderful bunch of friends I met up with and spent almost every Friday morning with. I loved the fact there were butchers and greengrocers and lovely little independent retailers.I loved having amazing empty beaches a short drive away.

I loved the schooling; my kids got very little homework, did lots of PE, an instrument and a language in elementary school and still received a good education in the basics. I adored our little log cabin that we bought after 4 months with our 1/2 acre of native garden which was home to more than one koala on occasion.

I loved our 4 wheel drive/camping trip in the outback and our trips to the beautiful empty beaches. My life there made me smile – a lot – but karma/life/whatever had other plans for me as hubby’s company decided to relocate us to Utah after only 19 months in my Paradise. But that’s another story. I learnt that again, life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans (thanks again John Lennon) and to never say never. This gives me on one hand a sense of freedom and on the other a sense of instability depending on my mood.

Have you ever found somewhere that you thought was your place and had to leave? Do you think as I now do that maybe you just weren’t there long enough and that you had to leave whilst in the honeymoon stage?  Or do you think there is such a thing as one right place for you? Having moved around a lot in my life I am not sure of that but would love to know what you all think.

I can honestly say I never thought skiing would happen to me. When Chaz announced that he wanted to take a job in Salt Lake City, Utah I was horrified at the thought. My skiing experience previously involved a very short lesson on a bunny hill in Saskatchewan and then being taken to Sunshine Village in Banff, Canada by two friends and having the most godawful time. Let’s just say I didn’t ski but just fell down – a lot. Every time I got off a chair lift I fell over and the lift had to be stopped which was sooooo embarrassing.

That was 1986 and I vowed never to put two planks of wood on my feet ever again. I hated winter, hated snow and abhorred all winter sports – at least that’s what I thought. The only bit of that trip I enjoyed was the apres ski.

After being dragged kicking and screaming away from my idyllic life amongst the gum trees of the Adelaide Hills in Australia with their beautiful smells and grey green colors, I looked at this barren place with its’ high desert scrub and thought to myself ‘what have we done?’ We (well me – then convinced hubby) decided we had to live up in the mountains to escape the smog, the poor schooling in Salt Lake and the stifling LDS influence I thought to myself ‘Louise, if we are going to live amongst it then you have to try again and learn something from this’. I had my first lesson the week of my 49th birthday. I was terrified. The bunny slope seemed so steep at first, the skis felt like alien attachments on my feet and ‘what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing at your age woman’ was the foremost thought in my mind – but I had a glimmer of fun. I also overcame my extreme chair lift fear with the aid of my lovely instructor Frenchie who showed me how to get off without falling over. I had another lesson a few days later and then decided to practice, practice, practice.

I managed to ski another 10 times that first winter and I was happy pootling around on the green slopes, even occasionally getting a small amount of speed up. I finished the season feeling pretty pleased with myself for facing up to some of my fears and, to a degree, starting to overcome them.

Have you ever done something you thought you would never do and how did it make you feel?