"Welcome"



As a child we all have that urge to explore . . . to climb that tree up the backyard . . . to go with dad down to the shops to pick up some 'no more gaps' and the bread and milk for mum, just because you can . . .to dig that super deep hole in the sand pit on the off chance that you may find that buried treasure everyone carries on about . . . lifting every big rock or log you can find to see if there is a weird creepy crawly you haven't seen before . . . to peek through the crack in the fence to see what lurks in the neighbours yard and stir up their dog . . .

But for many of us this itch to explore stays with you beyond childhood.

Soon enough what lies in the neighbour's yard and trips down to Bunnings just is not enough, the rest of the world is whispering out you're name, calling you to come and play. The sights, smells and experiences are out there waiting for you . . . . and for some of us lucky ones, we answer to its call.

Welcome to the blog of the Colhoun sisters, two lucky little ladies who have begun their quest for Global Domination.

Follow us to share the sights, smells and sticky situations we will encounter over the next 12 months while traveling the UK & Europe. Laugh with us, cry with us and soak up all that the world has to offer - after all, you only live once!

- Ashley & Hayley


Thursday 5 May 2011

So . . FYI Home sickness SUCKS - Anyone have a private jet or a giant slingshot?

I woke up, accidentally elbowed Halz in the head as I turned over, stepped out of bed straight into some broken glass on the floor, wandered down the hallway filled with random boxes of cleaning products, napkins and straws, into the bathroom, took a look at our 'shower' and the wet carpeted floor, glanced in the mirror at my tired pale face and took a big deep breath in . . . . . another long day, for another few measly pounds. 

I felt a little flat and heavy chested . . . . what is this icky fog Im in today? . . . . . Oh SHIT . . . . . Im Homesick


home·sick

  [hohm-sik] 
–adjective
sad or depressed from a longing for home  or family while awayfrom them for a long time.


Thats all I freaking need . . . .


Please someone tell me that there is some cooky nanna remedy for Homesickness, like standing on you're head whilst downing a Jager Bomb or spinning around 12 times while singing 'Backstreets back' and then jumping over a bar stool without falling over  . . . . I need a quick fix, because this horrible disease tends to come and go whenever it pleases randomly plaguing us and over staying his welcome.


Sir Richard Branson, we have all heard of you're grand plans to have regular flights into space and back for the insanely rich . . . . yes, its rather impressive, but how about SUPER fast flights from London to Sydney so you can do day trips for about $10 a pop - I think thats a much better idea, cater for the 'living of tips' demographic so we dont have to feel Homesick every second or so day.


Or alternatively I could build a giant slingshot in the paddock next door and pop home in time for dinner . . . . .






hmmmmm . . . . . I will let you know how this goes 


. . . . . If I die, please play Enya and Michael Buble at my funeral and I want only white tulips, no roses or babies breath and there better be some serious crying people, after all who will be there to entertain you daily with mindless drivel? Yeah, thats what I thought, you're crying already arent you . . . its ok, let it all out, you will feel better.


Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)