DorkyDad’s Last Transmission From London

The movers are here now.  I type this against the background chatter of ripped masking tape and heavy cardboard boxes being assembled by rough, experienced hands.  Tonight this flat will be empty save for two beds and the three of us.  In just under 60 hours the plane will lift off from Heathrow, bound first for Dubai, then on beyond to Melbourne.

We are away to Tasmania.

Eight years and two months ago, almost to the day, I arrived in Edinburgh without a clue of why or really how I had come to Scotland.  I spent that first summer alone, walking and watching.  The Make Poverty History march astounded me, and the warm sunny days and lingering twilights tricked me into thinking it would always be this way.

It wasn’t.  With November came the long gray, the wind and rain, the real teeth of the place.  And somehow it suited me, all of it.  Especially the young Scottish woman who wouldn’t leave, even when I insisted she must.  She stayed, and we were married on the High Street one glorious day in September.  And not so long after that came our son.

There were lots of life lessons, some harder than others.  I learned things about myself, and other people, and not always the best bits.  Humility is not the easiest meal. But there were also fine triumphs, a sense of helping move a community forward, of building a common vision that dared to see beyond the next horizon.

And there were friends, especially among the poets.  What generous people they are, the poets of Edinburgh, Glasgow, Lanarkshire, Cambridge and London.  How easily they share their words, their praise and their pints.  They are the ones I will miss the most.

We are excited, we are nervous, we are eager to get on that plane.  Most of all, we are happy.

Come see us.  We will be easy to find.  Just travel to the end of the road and listen for the laughter.

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25 responses

  1. I actually have goosebumps.

    And if you think there is not going to be a blogger invasion of epic proportions at some point you Dorkys are sadly mistaken.

    Have a safe trip and the best of luck as you start this next chapter of your lives. How very exciting.

  2. Well Mr. D, I hope you’re happy – you’ve just made a pregnant woman cry!

    I hope the whole Dorky family finds adventure and happiness down there in Tazzy, and I also hope that one day, if my 5 year plan ever pans out, we’ll be close enough to come and visit you.

    Bon voyage! Love to you all xxx

  3. I love the sound of ‘The Great Dorky Adventure’ – there are golden times ahead of you and I for one can’t wait to read all about them. Much love and safe journey x

  4. Just think DorkyDad. In a few years you’ll be able to write a similar-yet-different message to the world about your home on the other side of everything. We will miss you all terribly, though connected always by internet and other things. Safe journey. You take our hearts and love with you.

  5. You’re coming at the right time, Tasmania is at it’s best in the summer. Get ready for air so fresh it hurts your lungs and light so bright it hurts your eyes. And, if as an expat you’re anything like me, lying in bed on a Saturday morning hitting the refresh button on your laptop and reading Guardian articles online as they hit the page. Good luck!

  6. Pingback: Cheerio 2013! « dorkymum

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