Last year, when I first left, I always had one eye on home. I saw it as a year to figure myself out, learn some things and use that knowledge back in England to start doing something with my life. But by and by my dreams changed. Rather than wishing for a place to live, a girl, a good job that paid enough not to worry about money, friends and a settled life, I wanted to move and not stop. As I travelled I flew further down the path of wild abandon which peaked in my last month in Australia; hitching four thousand kilometres, sleeping on the side of the road, on beaches and then the madness of Sydney. I no longer wanted what I wanted before, I wanted love and madness, and a man is
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