Walking Ned is simply something that needs to be done. He has energy to burn, I needed to stretch m

Walking Ned is simply something that needs to be done. He has energy to burn, I needed to stretch my legs and its an easy excuse to get out of the house. I never expected it to become one of my favourite parts of the day. These days, our afternoon walks have their own little routine. Ned drags me towards his favourite beach, usually with far more enthusiasm than dignity. Within minutes he's found another dog to play with, rolled in something that definitely wasn't part of the plan and somehow managed to cover himself in enough sand and dirt that he comes home looking nothing like the clean dog that left the house an hour earlier. While he's busy living his best life, I get to enjoy mine too. There are little warungs and family-run shops we've stopped at so many times now that the faces are familiar. Sometimes I'll grab a cold drink, sometimes a snack, and sometimes it's nothing more than a smile, a wave and a quick "Apa kabar?" as we walk past. They're tiny interactions that only last a few seconds, but over time they've become part of our day. I think that's what surprised me most about moving overseas. Home isn't built all at once. It isn't the house you live in or the furniture you unpack. It's created through the ordinary moments that repeat themselves until one day you realise they feel familiar. It's recognising the same people on your walk, knowing which beach Ned will run to first and finding comfort in a routine that once felt completely foreign. Those little moments have quietly woven themselves into our life here. Every afternoon walk seems to wash away whatever the day has thrown at me. By the time we get home, Ned is filthy, I'm usually a little sweaty, and somehow we both feel better than when we left. Who would've thought a scruffy dog and a simple afternoon walk could make a place on the other side of the world feel so much like home?