I woke up with a heavy heart. 6:30am was too early to be getting up when I was on holidays. I slowly came to, had a shower and breakfast and we were off. It was a half hour journey to work. It wasn’t long before my mood changed. We saw an Emu, startled by the noise of our approach, race across the road, mystical in the haze. The sky was blue, the road sides were rusty orange. And it was hot – in January. I was with my best friend, Fergus, on our way to work in the Devil’s Lair Vineyard, Margaret River in Western Australia. We were on our way from Perth to Sydney and had stopped to take in the beautiful scenery and find out what it was like to live in such a beautiful part of the world.
There were many moments like this. I got to know other back-packers, energised by the break from their normal routines and quirky locals. We chatted while we worked in the sun. The air was always full of birdsong: the cuckaburra laughing, gollas warbling.
It is one of the nicest ways to get to know a place: a working holiday. The benefits: a unique, fully paid for holiday with free exercise, healthy eating, camaraderie and perspective.
Now I’m married with children, anchored to Dublin with a mortgage and few working opportunities. Are those days gone forever? No! I’m determined not to let this hold me back.
I’m restricted in my choice of working holidays. But there are still some available. My plan for Summer 2014 is to take time off and work in Spain. This time as an English teacher in beautiful Jaca. The children will be 5 and 7. I’ll enrol them in the attached school for Spanish lessons. Its a long way off. But I need to dream. What’s your dream holiday?