Today is the halfway point of 2012. So far 183 pictures chart my journey from a beachside café in New Zealand to this old house beside a quiet road in northern Cambodia.
It’s been an incredible journey and an amazing year so far, one that I suspect will forever be a landmark in my life. And today, as I stood in front of this old house, I wondered for a moment where this journey through 2012 might end.
People often ask me when I am planning to get home and that’s always something of a difficult question to answer. Where is home? Indeed, what is home? Is it merely the place you lay your head to sleep, where you keep a few books on shelves, or where to have showers and take baths? Is it where your friends and loved ones are, or maybe the place where you were born? Is it the place where you find refuge from the world or simply the address at which your bills catch up with you?
I don’t know what place qualifies as my home. To be honest, I’m really enjoying this life on the road and the fact that next week I have no real idea where I’ll be resting my weary head. So while this journey through 2012 was not so much about getting home as it was about getting to the last day in December, something tells me that after so much time spent on the road, finding my way to January might be far easier than finding my way home.