Three months ago, 6:00am. You're crawling up the rotting aisle of an antique 747, sweating out the early stages of a farewell party hangover. You lever yourself into your Q-class (Student Bum) seat. A scowling stewardess cinches the belt far too tight around your swollen gut. The engines whine their way into a roar and sling-shot you into an astonishingly turbulent sky. You can't get the smile off your face. This is it. Your Big Trip Overseas.
So why is it then, that three months later, basking in the obscene luxury of the Swiss yacht you were paid ludicrous amounts of money to pretend to look after for three weeks, swamped by Finnish lingerie models intent on serving you icy Caipirinha's from between their perfect lips, you collapse suddenly into a shuddering embarrassment of tears?
Guess what? You're homesick.
It generally strikes at just one of these moments, to ensure you receive absolutely no sympathy from all your mates back home, still slugging it out back there at the abattoirs and the sewerage farms for minimum wage.
I know I should be happy mate, I know, but it's just...Hang on a sec, mate...No, Sasha, please. Please Baby. No more. Can't you see how sore it is?...Sorry mate, What were you saying?... Danny?... Danny?
Danny slams the phone down. You feel even more alone than ever. You fall asleep clutching your complimentary satellite phone as though some part of Danny might still linger inside, and a bewildered Sasha and Misha and Tasha are left to entertain themselves.
Symptoms
Homesickness can be experienced emotionally, physically and even cognitively. In other words, it can shoot you in the guts, knife you in the the heart or smack you in the head. Depending on your circumstances, homesickness might manifest itself merely as a longing for a favourite beer, or as a full-blown, suicidal depression brought about by the suspicion that your boyfriend Gus has found a blonder, taller, more athletic way of dealing with your absence.
Feeling crap after a big night out? Don't necessarily write it off as the consequence of twenty-seven tequilas, a suitcase full of coke and a spiked cerveza. Ulcers, cramps, headaches, diarrhea, muscular tension, crying, vomiting, impaired cognitive ability: all potential physical symptoms of homesickness.
(But yeah, it was probably tequila twenty-seven).
Prevention and Treatment
1: Practice makes Perfect.
According to Wikipedia, the shrinks all reckon one of the best ways to prevent homesickness is to practice spending time away from home. By this, I assume they mean that if you live in Essendon, you should try a pub in Keilor before you drive all the way to Fitzroy. The logical extension would be to try five days in a luxury Bali resort before travelling to the Sudan for a year of digging wells.
2: Stay Upbeat.
The next pearl of wisdom, apparently, is to 'Keep a positive attitude'. So, if you are feeling a bit low just three months into your Baghdad holiday: Smile. You could be in DarFur.
3: Maintain Contact With Home.
Even if the warden of whatever Colombian prison you find yourself in denies you access to the net or pen and paper, you can always pretend. Write long letters home in your mind, but be nice; Mummy doesn't really need to hear about your cell-mate Hector's latest favourite position, does she?
4: Get Busy.
I know it sounds hard to believe, but staying at home, curled up around your six-chamber bhong under a blanket of sticky Thai Buddha might not actually be the best way to forget how much nicer the muggers were in Manhattan. Try a sit-up or two. At the very least, walk downstairs to meet your dealer rather than asking him up for a cone or two.
5: Talk.
Preferably to someone else. Chatting with others, even if you don't know them, can reinforce the idea that you have friends; that actually people like you and value what you have to say.
6: And I quote: 'Enjoy What is Different About the Novel Environment'
See your guide disappearing into the crowd with your backpack, complete with passport, wallet and Prozac prescription. Taste the toxins in that tap-water. Listen to the screams of the batoned masses. Feel the sweet heat of the bullet passing millimetres from your cheek. Smell the burning flesh. Remember, you won't get another chance once you're back in good ol' Brighton.
7: Bring 'A Transitional Object'.
Translation: Bring something from home that you'll cherish during those lonely nights on the park bench. A telescopic baton, perhaps. Or a taser.
Jokes aside, homesickness can be a total prick. We all experience it to different degrees and in different ways. There's actually a lot of wisdom to be found in the seven points above, so read them again if you need to, and try to implement some of them into your travelling routine.
Oh yeah...one last thing: There's nothing to say that just because you've graduated and spent the last year planning your trip, you have to stick it out. Give yourself a goal. Tell yourself: 'Righto. I'm going to stick it out for three months. If things are still shit after then, I'll fly home'.
Not all of us are travel-ready at eighteen. Take a look in any of the big hostels in Europe. They're full of sub-twenty year-olds who spend their every waking hour in an alcohol and ecstasy narcosis (What?! Three quid to see Picasso at the National?!! That's three whole PILLS, dude!
Me, I wasn't really ready until my twenty-ninth birthday, and I still struggle at times. The point is, don't stay away from home out of shame or pride. If the most attractive thing about Budapest's seven bridges is the drop to the water, go home, and wait until travel's something you want, not something you feel you have to do.
