You've said goodbye to your family and friends, walked through the departure gate and gained instant citizenship to the backpacker culture.

Perhaps you're pulling pints in a London pub, partying under the full moon at Ko Phan Nang, or "doing India"?

No matter how brilliant an experience you're having, chances are the homesickness bug has bitten you on occasion. And chances are, you've wondered how life is getting on back home.

Imagine going back home for two weeks, saying hello to everyone you miss, visiting all your old haunts, before taking off again to pick up your backpack where you left it?

Well, last month I did just that. My mum turned 50 and I spontaneously splurged my savings on a homeward-bound plane ticket to surprise her. It turned out she wasn't the only one surprised by my visit. I was surprised by what I learnt about myself once back home.

Technically nothing had changed. My old house stood where it always had, my bus took the same slow route and even the man at my local café remembered how I took my coffee - strong with one sugar.

But it's this familiarity that made me realise I was the unfamiliar one. I had changed. The revelation came to me as a bit of a newsflash as I didn't think I'd changed. I mean, I didn't come back sporting a brand new personality, a freshly painted tattoo, or even a new haircut.

My change came in the form of restlessness. After the first fantastic 48 hours of blabbing to old friends and bonding with my family, I found I was itching to put on the very same backpack which I'd come to curse during my spine-breaking travels.

Once back home, I though about my life back in 'the other hemisphere' and I missed my new friends who were baptising the pubs without my beer at the table, I missed the freedom of being anonymous in a new city, and I missed the buzz of travelling.

You may think I'm whingeing, but I'm not, just the contrary in fact. Going back home clarified just what I love about travelling.

Travelling is not just about the highs. It's not just about finding Nirvana in Nepal or overindulging at Oktoberfest. It's also about the lows which give depth to the experience - making it more of a three dimensional adventure than a one-dimensional constant party. Okay, so next time your stranded at some desolate border crossing without the relevant visa you'll think about this little theory and curse and spit on it's idealism.

"Bloody adventure", you'll mutter, "give me the one-dimensional constant party any day."

But it's only when you return home that you learn how much you miss those very same moments you came to curse in your travels - those adventurous moments. This is what I realised upon my brief return, and it reassured me that what I was doing - this 'backpacker-thing' - was right for me.

When we feel homesick, we're prone to insecure moments when we question whether our travels are worthwhile. Perhaps some of you consider packing it all in, going home and taking the easy option.

Well think twice about it, as it's not necessarily easy to camouflage yourself into your old environment. Your expectations have unconsciously risen to demand adventurous experiences, and it can be numbing to step out of the role of a modern-day nomad.

It is great to go back home, hug those that you love and visit places that you've missed. But don't be surprised if you end up wishing your return was just that - a visit.

Questions?
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