Some places ask for your name before anything else. A hospital shift. A hostel check-in. A new job. An event. You say your name. You write it down. It appears on a roster, a sticker, or a food bag. For a while, that label becomes part of your day. At work, people know my name … Continue reading Name Tags
Author: OZ HOBO
Waiting Rooms
Most people think waiting rooms are places. A train platform. A hostel common area. A hospital corridor. A government office. Aged care often comes with long waiting lists. But waiting rooms are not always rooms. A visa application can be a waiting room. So can a relationship. A casual job sometimes becomes one. Retirement isn't … Continue reading Waiting Rooms
Settling Into Not Settling
People come and go. I stay. I've been living in hostels for nearly eight years now. For the last five, I haven't checked out. Extend. Pay. Extend again. The body sleeps. The mind keeps moving. Greyhound buses. Regional trains. Hostel kitchens. Temporary conversations. Another week. Another payment. Another season. At first, I was just staying … Continue reading Settling Into Not Settling
Buying Less
After enough buses, hostels, train stations, and constant check-outs, buying things started feeling different. Not because I became disciplined. Not because I suddenly became a minimalist. Movement simply changed the emotional weight of ownership. A thick long-sleeve flannel shirt could start feeling “too heavy” after enough Greyhound and Queensland Rail rides across Australia. A souvenir … Continue reading Buying Less
Eventually, Even Freedom Became Routine
There was a time when freedom felt cinematic. Long bus rides across Australia. Train platforms before sunrise. Late-night hostel kitchens. Backpacks resting beside bunk beds. Random conversations with strangers who would disappear a few days later. Back then, movement still felt meaningful. Every new city looked like it might change something. Every check-out felt symbolic. … Continue reading Eventually, Even Freedom Became Routine
Why I Stayed in Hostels Longer Than Most Relationships
I’ve been checking in and checking out of hostels in Australia for almost eight years now. Not from the very beginning. When I first arrived in Australia, I stayed for a while in an empty house in Mindarie, north of Perth, owned by someone my brother knew. After that came the more familiar international student … Continue reading Why I Stayed in Hostels Longer Than Most Relationships
The People I Never Spoke To on the Bus
I never expected long bus rides to be social. Backpackers. Stories. Random conversations. That wasn’t really what happened. Most of the time, it was just quiet. Especially outside the East Coast. Seats next to me were often empty. Not always. Sometimes someone would sit. We’d nod. Maybe a quick smile. Then headphones on. Eyes on … Continue reading The People I Never Spoke To on the Bus
Greyhound. First Time.
I bought a 45-day WHIMIT pass in Broome. Cheap. Curious. Just wanted to try. And maybe… I wanted to reach the Northern Territory. 6am bus. Sky still dim, almost sunrise. I was tired. A bit hungover. But I got on anyway. It was my first time on Greyhound Australia. Backpackers. Some workers. A few Aboriginal … Continue reading Greyhound. First Time.
Maybe You’re Not Lost. Just Tired of Rushing
Somewhere between places. No rush. Maybe you’re not lost. Maybe you’re just tired. Tired of rushing. Tired of chasing. Tired of trying to keep up. It feels like everything here moves fast. Work. Money. Plans. And if you slow down, it feels like you’re falling behind. I used to think that too. So I kept … Continue reading Maybe You’re Not Lost. Just Tired of Rushing
Still Moving, Different Roads
Back then, I was moving a lot. Bus. Train. Long roads across Australia. I spent almost a year on Greyhound Australia. Day after day on the road. Sometimes I talked to the driver. Sometimes just a nod. People came in, people got off. Different faces every few hours. Then I took a few trips with … Continue reading Still Moving, Different Roads
OZ HOBO 