Ash London: ‘All my friends are getting married and having babies and I'm just like ...’

ASH London has just become the queen of YOLO. The radio star quit everything in December to move to a tiny tropical island. And she hasn’t looked back.

YOU’RE sitting at your desk on a Friday afternoon.

You’ve spent the past 10 minutes zoning out, and as a result your computer screen has gone to sleep. The word document gives way to a black screen, and now the faint reflection of your bored face stares back at you. You look out the window and imagine yourself sitting on a tropical island with a cold drink in hand, and not an email notification in sight. Then you remember that your rent is due, you’ve got two weddings to attend this month, you’re halfway through your course of laser hair removal and now really is not the right time to quit your job and pursue your own ‘Eat Pray Love’ kind of adventure, because real grown ups don’t actually do that, do they? Well, lucky for me I am eight months off 30, so I don’t consider myself to be a grown up. And so, six weeks ago, I left my successful job in radio and took the plunge. And after travelling through Asia I’ve arrived at Malapascua — my very own tropical island and temporary home for the next couple of weeks, months, whatever. She is two and a half kilometres long, and sits seven kilometres north of Cebu in the Philippines, which leaves me approximately 5,702 kilometres from Sydney. Close enough to get home in an emergency, and far enough away that my mum won’t come visit (just kidding Mum I love you — you’re welcome to come, but there is lots of sand). I took a simple room with sea views (if I crane my neck hard enough), and settled into slow, hot island life. It is the first time in eight years that I haven’t worked, and as the days pass, the guilt associated with doing absolutely nothing begins to dissipate. I am learning to slow down on an island where I have no choice — because everything … is … slow. I am falling in love, not only with the local people, but all the local dogs and eagerly await the birth of Lumpy the beagle’s puppies. The kids play made-up games in the villages with bottle caps and flip flops, always laughing — despite the fact that there���s not an iPad in sight. I have not worn shoes in weeks and my bikinis are falling apart at the seams. Days on the water turn into sunset drinks with strangers and the best hazelnut gelato I have ever had. I commit to daily yoga practice and I read books. I get massages on the beach and make friends with strangers. Every now and then I feel a wave of panic wash over me, and wonder whether I’ve made a terrible mistake. After all, I’m turning 30 soon and this is meant to be the time that I buy a house and settle down and do all that grown up stuff. But instead, I am learning to trust. Trust the instincts that kicked in months ago, telling me that the course of my life had to change — that it was time to let go. That the life I had so carefully planned out was no longer the one that fit. That for now, it’s simply time to breathe. Days pass, and I become more and more accustomed to a world that beckons me to allow space and silence. I start to let the emails pile up. After four weeks on the island, tourists and locals alike come together to celebrate a local fiesta. There is a sense of anticipation I cannot put my finger on — perhaps it has something to do with the $1 rum and coke specials or the ridiculously handsome Englishman that appears out of nowhere at the local bar. Either way, I cannot shake the feeling that God is smiling upon me. The feeling that though my bank account is dwindling, and I am yet to make one single plan for the new year, I am going to be OK. Tummies full of rum, we wander to the shore. Fishermen in their boats let off fireworks, and cower in the hull as they explode above us, illuminating the night sky. Loud crackles echo over the endless surrounding oceans, and with one last bang, off come our clothes. We wade into the cool, still water — and although we’re nothing but naked silhouettes I can feel the smiles of friends and strangers reverberating through me. I breathe a sigh of relief as I finally feel the year leave. The year that has given and taken so much. The year I found the strength to quit a job that I quietly knew wasn’t right for me, and let go of the boy I thought I was going to marry. The year I learned that I am not my fancy career, my relationship, or a product of others’ perceptions. I’m just a girl swimming naked in the ocean with a smile on her face the size of the moon. And for now, that is enough. Meanwhile on the shore, some lucky local is flogging my designer shorts. Never mind. Where this little lady is headed, no one needs Ksubi anyway. Ash London is a TV and Radio presenter, who wrapped up hosting duties on Shazam Top 20 at the end of 2015 to pursue life as a hummus connoisseur (read: she quit her job and is currently travelling). Follow her adventures on Twitter and Instagram.