The Fleurieu through a local traveller’s eyes Story by Zoë Kassiotis. Photograph by Jason Porter.
They say home is where the heart is. If that’s true, then I’ve left a breadcrumb trail of my heart across the world for the past five years, scattering pieces in music-filled Spanish plazas and sweltering Turkish bazaars. More recently there were moments on my one-and-a-half year-long van lap around a vast and ever-changing Australia when I felt an overwhelming sense of home in the remote seaside towns I fell so irrevocably in love with. 82
For me, it took packing up on a whim and embracing newness to discover what felt good, what lit me up and what I can live without. It was proving difficult to shape answers to life’s deeper questions when surrounded by a monotonous routine, the enemy of comfort and noise of those who felt they knew me, purely because they did at one point in time. This is why I’ve spent most of my twenties simply wanting to be elsewhere. In doing so I’ve exposed myself to new ideas, ways of living and accumulated knowledge from people and places – adopting what serves me and leaving behind what doesn’t. A wealth of wisdom from life on the road permeated the essence of who I am and inevitably steered me back home to Kaurna land. I gladly succumbed to the pull of the rolling, vine-lined, cafe-dotted Fleurieu coast with a particular goal: this time I’m determined to see
