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How You Doin’?

I’m Jo and that’s Alex, and until March 2016, we’d been living a relatively “normalish” life. 

Plans were in place for our ten year anniversary celebration, our 15 year old dog Murray was an eternal puppy who loved nothing more than chasing pebbles into the sea, and I was circling the world one layover at a time 

In a past life I have been a teacher, a recruiter, a travel advisor, pulled pints, waited tables, invigilated exams, and tried and failed several times to write a novel. But I loved being a flight attendant. It’s hard work, but essentially getting paid to travel, what’s not to like? Still the absolute best thing about being away so much. Coming home of course. To my two favourites.  

Then, as life would have it, something happened. I found a lump. And you can probably guess the rest there, or indeed read all about it here.  

And then something else happened. Murray died. I know, I know she’s just a dog right? Wrong. To have to say goodbye to the love of our life for 16 wonderful years, then walk into a hospital that very same morning to be blasted with radiation. Let’s just say it was the worst day of my life so far.  

 I had all kinds of good intentions at the beginning of my treatment, including returning to the skies, albeit with a slightly shorter hair – do. But our puppy dying on the floor in Alex’s arms, midway through my treatment. That wasn’t in the plans at all.  

So we fell apart a little. A lot. I was under pressure to return to work, but the year had taken it’s toll. I wasn’t just a shadow of my former self, my former self had well and truly left the building.  


Then one night, well actually over the course of several months but one night sounds more dramatic, we decided. We had to move on. And to move on, we had to leave. Sell up. Start over. Live life of travel, adventure, and anything else we could squeeze into it. To some it may sound an extreme reaction, and certainly not for everyone, but for us it just felt right. There is a quote by Joseph Heller in the novel Catch 22 which reads: 

I’m not running away from my responsibilities. I’m running to them. There’s nothing negative about running away to save my life. 

At that moment, in our flat, in our life, we were stuck and sinking fast. We needed to go and we needed to go now, even if we had no plans, few savings and zero idea of how we would make it work. But if that  awful year had taught us anything , it was that life cannot be planned or predicted, it just has to be lived. I had been offered another job, a great job in travel, one a year or so earlier I would have loved. But we had to take the chance. Be brave. Cast off the bow lines, as Mark Twain says.  

So a few months after my final treatment, we sold up and shipped out. Packed our car to the rafters, indicated right and started heading West, literally into the sunset. 

Now we live on the road, or by the side of it at least. Camping, glamping, airbnbs, housesits, you name it, we’ve probably stayed in it.  

And that’s what this blog is all about. To share with you what happens next.  

The good, the bad and the sometimes very ugly. 

This is our life after pink. 

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