A boat in the Majestic Greek Islands

A boat in the Majestic Greek Islands

I think I had too much. Too many “places to be”, too many people “You just have to talk to, Gina”, too many minutes full of too much.

I had left university, I had gone straight to London with my creative partner and I had landed directing my first national TV commercial within three months. The glitzy London media scene became my life. I was moving in their circles, drinking their old fashioned’s and pretending to be interested in all their success stories. A world as interesting as it’s people and at twenty one years young I looked like I had it all. But I didn’t want that much. That world is was private VIP Party to me. Which sure, is fun for the first few months. But after a while you just want to dance like an idiot with your mates in that shitty pub down the road.

A few years and a hundred brilliant but stressful hours in Advertising later, I made a decision. I told my business parter I was leaving. I was going to live with my Aussie boyfriend on a boat in The Greek Islands. I was going to show people the beauty of the mediterranean. I was going to have time. Have space. Have less. She already knew.

I left with a suitcase, a laptop, a fear of the ocean and no clue about boats.

Fast forward four months and here I am. Sitting in an old fishing bay eating Anchovies and Greek Salad. I’m wearing the same cotton dress I wear most days, it’s 30 degrees and i’m writing my blog. Twelve hours is stretched ahead of me with only an hours drive to the next island village.

I can see my best friend and business partner killing it right now. Hustling the creative media world of Soho and i’m happy for her. I miss her. I miss the people, I miss the tolerance of the city and I miss the energy. But, I don’t miss the lifestyle we had.

I don’t miss opportunities only being available to me if I chew some rich, greying mans ear off over a drink that cost me an hours work. One that he will refresh in the hopes that i’ll stick around a little longer, so that he can finally talk about himself.

I prefer finding my opportunities myself- like writing this. I’ll sit in my little den, in my little boat with my little notebook next to me while I listen to the fish nibbling the bottom of the hull.
I want peace and power, not powerful men giving me pieces of advice.

But it’s not the space to create my own opportunities that gives me freedom. It’s not the ocean I live on, or the space I have. It’s not even travelling that really makes me feel free.

It’s not having any idea what the hell I’m going to do after this.

I find freedom in not having it all worked out. In not being able to picture where i’ll be next year. A five year plan is no longer in my lexicon. I find freedom in the moments when i’m worrying about how i’ll make money after this adventure. I find freedom in saying “I’m not really sure” when people ask me what I want to do for a “proper job”. In that space there is nothing but myself and my ideas. Noting else can make a decision for me. Nothing else can tell me what to do next. I find freedom in a unplanned future. I find freedom in the fear of the unknown and that my friends, is exhilarating.

Thank you for reading and commenting. Please enter the Independence 2016 Travel Writing Award and tell your story.

About the Author

Gina Martin

A 24 year old living on a boat in the Greek Islands. I photograph, write and paint. My life is a different day, a different bay. I'm a freelance writer for award winning online magazine The Debrief, and can be found not shutting up over on my blog fromlondontoanywhere.com!