Homesick for the 50th Parallel North
Redefining home on the road
I arrived in British Columbia in early autumn after having lived in the tropics and subtropics for a year.
I’d left the UK the previous year and sailed south. I’d been to countless Caribbean islands, lived in the mangrove jungles of Panama and sailed across an ocean.
I hadn’t been home in all that time — and I was starting to miss it.
But not the typical homesickness you might imagine.
I missed the latitude of home and everything that meant.
It’s not just the place, it’s not just you
I’m a 50th parallel plus kinda girl.
Y’know. Fundamentally.
I love to travel and even live below that but, eventually, I need those 50s. They smell different, they look different, they feel different.
I grew up on the 50th parallel and, while I live over three hours away from my childhood home now, I’m still right here on the 50th.
I’m most comfortable between 50°N and 58°N. And that’s what I needed that September as I locked up my boat in Panama (9°N) and headed off to the airport.
