Ignoring the Pain of Broken Heart and Living My Dream

The next morning the first thing I noticed, after I got out of my tent, wasn’t the busy noisy road just behind my tent, but the sound of the ocean and the gentle sand dunes visible just behind the road. The sky wasn’t as clear as it was the previous morning, though here and there a blue patch revealed itself, allowing some sun-rays to get through. The leaves of palms waved in the gentle breeze.

I felt happy, I was living my dream…

Suddenly I realized which day it was and I got sentimental. Again turmoil of emotions started boiling inside of me. It was Christmas Eve – my first Christmas ever on my own… “How lucky I’m to be here where there is so hot and it doesn’t feel like Christmas!” – I thought to myself. I didn’t even want to think how it would be if I was back in Europe, where there is winter, cold and snowy, everyone preparing for the most special family night of the year. Everything is so cozy, warm and peaceful, so full of joy… Exactly, for most it is the time of joy, when they meet with their loved ones, including all those whom they haven’t seen for months and enjoy the time together. For others, however, it’s the most lonely time of the year, it’s when they realize they have no-one to share the special moments with, to celebrate with, they have nobody to make them feel loved and wanted. It’s when they most miss their loved ones, those whom they lost… They don’t feel any joy… Obviously I have my parents and family, but… at some point in our life we want to have our own family, we want to share this time of the year with our special someone, and therefore for me it would be the time I missed Andy the most. It was hard enough as it was, so I was grateful I didn’t need to go through this "torture" in a place where I would feel the Christmas spirit.

After my usual morning routine, I left a few things lying on the grass next to my bike and went for a short walk to explore the place I spent the night. It was rather crowded, with plenty of sometimes quite old looking caravans, handful of tents, but hardly any cabins. Near me there were couple of tents not much bigger than mine. When I was on my way back I noticed couple of excited ducks running towards my stuff lying on the ground. They quickly explored everything and when they realized it wasn’t anything eatable, they left and rushed to the next caravan, checking if there was something they could put into their bellies. “Cute little creatures”- I thought to myself and smiled.

I packed my bike and in no time I was on the road again. My first stop was in Manly, where I parked at the designated area of the coastal road and walked across the green stripe of the esplanade to the beach. I was slightly disappointed with the grey clouds covering the sky which would make my photos looking rather dull and gloomy. It would be so much better with blue sky and bright sunshine, but… Not much I could do about the weather. I looked over the peaceful ocean and noticed a few people enjoying themselves in the warm salty water, swimming and catching waves, much fewer were lying on the sand. In fact there were more seagulls than people on the beach. However, when I turned around and looked at the concrete pathway of the esplanade, it was almost as crowded as Queen Street in Brisbane at lunchtime – people running, power-walking or simply just walking their dogs.

While riding through Manly I stopped a few times to take a couple of snapshots of the place which in some respect resembled the Gold Coast, not so far away from where I lived.

I made it to Sydney and stopped… somewhere on a minor road with a good view of the Harbor Bridge with the Opera House in the background. I was mesmerized by the view, thinking about my mum who loves this landmark and wishes so much to see it. Who knows, maybe one day, if everything goes to plan and I’ll stay in Australia, my parents will be able to visit me and then I will take them here too. “For now I will just take a photo and send it to them. It’s a pity that it’s overcast, but… that's life” – I thought to myself.

I continued riding and... somehow found myself parked straight in front of the Opera House, in a place indicated as “No Parking”… “Hmm… I’m not sure what I should do… I would love to have a photo in front of this distinctive looking building, but it’s getting late… and if I start looking for a parking spot, especially one I can afford, which surely won’t be nowhere near here, I will spent at least an hour here…” – I thought to myself when I noticed a security guard passing near by. I walked to him. “Excuse me, do you mind if I leave my bike here? Just for 5 min. Look, it doesn’t take much space, even the busses can pass – you see?” I said pointing at the passing bus and continued “I just want to take a photo of the architectural masterpiece and in no time I will be gone! I promise!” He looked at me, laughed and replied “No worries, you can leave it here. If you like I can take photo of you in front of the Opera House”. “Thank you! This would be great! Look, I will set up my camera, and you just press this button” – I replied excited like a little kid. He took a photo of me and handed me my camera back saying: “Merry Christmas!” “Thank you and merry Christmas to you too!” I replied trying to stay cheerful, though the reminder it’s Christmas caused a sharp pain in my chest.

For a few minutes I strolled on the banks of Sydney Harbour, amazed by the spectacular design and absolutely astounded by the enormous multi-story cruise ship parked in the harbor, which in some respect made the skyscrapers appear so small. Isn’t it fascinating how this huge steal structures just float on the waters of the ocean? I find it compelling. I was so absorbed by the view and the fact that I got to live my dream, that I was in the place so many dream of, but never get to visit, that I was absolutely oblivious to the hundreds if not thousands of tourists flowing all around me. I stopped for a second, looked around me and I realized

people from all over the world gathered there, so many different races, diverse cultures, distinctive fashions, speaking unique languages. It seemed as if every couple or family walking by spoke different lingo. “So different, yet so similar. At the end we are all humans, all fascinated by the wonders of the world, by the unique architecture of this place” – I thought to myself.

I walked back to my bike and look at the map. I should be riding to Melbourne now, but… “The Blue Mountains are just around the corner… The amazing pictures I saw on TV are in my reach, only a few kilometers away…” – I thought to myself. I knew it wasn’t responsible to go anywhere, but Melbourne, but I just couldn’t help myself. I jumped on the bike and my direction was clear – The Blue Mountains. A few kilometers down the road I missed my exit and found myself riding on a toll-road over some bridge. “Holly ship! Now I have to pay for a toll road! And twice, because I have to get back! That’s almost equal to my daily budget for food!” – I thought to myself quite upset. And again my sanity tried to whisper to me

“Look, even the gods are trying to look after you and made you miss the exit, just keep going! Don’t go back, keep going south!”

But no, not a chance. I was going to go to Blue Mountains and nothing in the world could make me change my mind. I stopped at the toll booth and said to the cashier “I’m on the wrong way, and I have to go back. Could I pay double and somehow make a U-turn here?” “Pardon?” asked the astonished cashier. “Well, it would save me a lot of time. I wouldn’t need to ride all the way in wrong direction, only to get lost a few times before I find a spot to make a U-turn and come back” – I replied and the cashier looked at me perplexed as if he saw an alien. “Never mind, I just pay for the trip” – I said handing him some cash.

It took me some time to find my way back, but less than couple of hours later I was enjoying the stunning Mount Tomah Botanic Gardens, about 100km West-North from Sydney.

I followed the manicured paths winding through the park kept in tip-top conditions. I stopped here and there to admire the tiny waterfalls, the small ponds looking gorgeous despite their brownish waters, the green soft carpets spread in between some trees, and the rocky areas with plants of scruffy appearances you would usually see in the outback or in a vicinity of deserts. There wasn’t a path I missed, and most of the splendor views I documented either on photographs or with my video camera. I was standing at one of the ponds beholding the orange-white fish when I heard someone saying in a pleasant voice “Isn’t it a bit too hot in this outfit?” I turned around and saw a family, a man maybe in his late thirties, a lady about the same age and couple of little kids. “Just a little” – I chuckled and added “I travelled so much that I simply got used to it. Not to mention the spectacular views here make me forget about all the minor inconveniences” And so we started chatting, also coming into the topic of my interest in photography “That’s a great spot here, maybe you would like to have a photo as a proof you were here?” - asked the man. “Would be nice” – I replied smiling and was ready to set up the camera and explain how to use it, but he smiled and interrupted me “Just give it to me. I think I know how to use it” Later it turned out he was a professional photographer, and the photo he took of me was probably the best I got from that trip. I completely forgot about the pressure of time and just adored the moment. “Enjoy your trip and have a very merry Christmas” – said the man before the family left.

I walked back to my bike and… of course I couldn’t ride back to Sydney on the same road, not to mention that one of the best known places of Blue Mountains is Katoomba, I had to see it too! And so I decided to ride to Katoomba, stopping on the way at the Evans Lookout, where I went for another walk. I stood there looked at the mountains and couldn’t believe all these was real. It was literary living your best dream. In some respect all this beauty made me forget about my pain and despair, and all I felt was gratitude, how lucky I was to experience all these. When I finally made it to Katoomba the sun was getting really low. I looked at the “Three Sister”and my first thought was about my family, my sister and my cousin. We grew up together, and our grandpa called us “the three sisters” and the family house we lived in was called “the house of three girls/sisters”. His dream was that we all stay living there together, each of us having her own apartment. Only my cousin, besides of my parents, is still living there. My sister and I emigrated, but who knows, maybe one day we will go back. My parents live in the apartment which would be for my sister, and my apartment at the top level with an attic is standing empty (actually it needs to be renovated, before it can be occupied).

Of course, wherever I stopped people approached me curious about my travels, and most of them wished me a merry Christmas. I wished I had more time, time to talk to all these people, time to go for walks on the sometimes kilometers long paths, but the time wasn’t on my side. Sydney was about 100km away, and Melbourne about 1000km.

I was half way back to Sydney when treacherous clouds curtained the sky. There was no doubt a heavy storm was on it’s way. The sun set down and the rain started. At the beginning just light, but it didn’t take long and I had no choice but put on wet-weather gear and turn myself into a clumsy astronaut. I was still at least 20km away from Sydney when my journey turned into an absolute nightmare. The rain was extremely heavy, it was pitch dark, except of the blinding lights of the oncoming traffic, the roads started turning into rivers. I couldn’t see anything, I was blindly riding 100kph on a highway, not knowing where I was going, praying for a caravan park were I could stay overnight. I didn’t care if I made it to Sydney or not, I just wanted to survive this nightmare. Finally I could see a sign to a caravan park, what a relief! I pulled over and… “No, this can’t be true! It can’t be shut!” – I thought to myself, but… yep, gates were shut, nobody at the reception, no phone number to call and no way to get in. I had no other choice but jump back on my bike and continue riding. The nightmare continued, all caravan parks on the way were either shut or had no vacancy. I was riding through the flooded roads middle in Sydney, feeling absolutely lost. The rain was so heavy that I had a permanent puddle in my lap. I could feel the water getting through my wet-weather overall and I could feel it getting through my leather into my undies. I know, it could sound quite erotic, but believe me at that time this would be the last thing on my mind, I just wanted to stay alive.

I passed Sydney and continued riding south on Princess highway pass Heathcote, Waterfall (oh yes, this place lived up to its name, it literary felt like riding through a waterfall), middle through Wollongong. It was 10pm, I was somewhere between Port Kembla and Shellharbour when I realized that I had enough, I was too exhausted and I couldn’t ride anymore. Oblivious to the fact that the next caravan park, like all others, was already shut, I pulled over to think what I should do. I noticed the reception building had a large porch, so I walked there and sat on the floor, protected from the rain, but feeling hopeless. Suddenly I noticed a security guard walking pass with his German Shepherd. “Excuse me! Could I stay here overnight? I know it’s shut, but I will pay in the morning” I asked the guard. “No, we are already shut” – replied the elderly man. “Yes, I know the park is shut, but could you let me in? I will pay in the morning, I promise!” – I almost begged him. “No, I can’t. You have to go and find another caravan park” – replied the man, obviously don’t feeling good he needed to send me away. “I have been riding here for hours, and all caravan parks are shut already! It’s pouring rain, I’m exhausted, I simply physically can’t ride anymore! I’m drenched, my motorbike leather suit is soaking wet. I’ll only kill myself if I try to continue riding. If you don’t let me in, I’m sleeping here, on the porch. I’m sorry…”- I replied in rather forceful voice, but at the same time feeling bad that I was putting the friendly man in such an awkward situation. “I really can’t let you in. I’m just a nightwatchman here. I could lose my job, I simply can’t let you in…”- replied the perturbed and worried man. “I’m really sorry, but honestly, I simply can’t ride”- I replied in a softer voice, feeling sorry for the man. After a short silence the nightwatchman said: “I will call the owner. I don’t know if he answers, but if he does I will tell him your situation, and we will see what he decides” “Thank you so very much. I really appreciate it. If he says I can’t stay, I will be gone. I don’t know what I do, but I won’t stay here and bother you” – I replied truly grateful. The man walked away and a few minutes later came back saying “Okay, you can stay. I will let you in” “Thank you so much. I’ll pay in the morning. Thank you so much. You have no idea how grateful I’m!” – I replied thankful and relieved.

“You don’t need to pay. It’s Christmas! The boss said to let you in and wish you a Merry Christmas from him and his wife. He said he can’t charge you in such terrible situation, especially not on Christmas Eve”

I smiled lost for words, so the man continued “Okay, before I show you where you can set up your tent, you can pat Rex, he is very friendly” He must had noticed that I was watching the dog all the time I was here “Thank you so much! I love dogs, and I miss my Max a lot!” We chatted about dogs for a few minutes, the rain almost stopped and the gentleman took me to the place where I could set up my tent. I couldn’t wait to take the wet leather off and jump into a shower.

I was tucked in my sleeping bag ready for sleep, when someone knocked on my tent and whispered “Excuse me, are you still awake” I recognized the voice of the elderly man. “Yes, I am”- I replied opening the door of my tent.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but… you can’t go to sleep hungry on Christmas Eve, so I brought you a few biscuits and a bottle of ice-cold water. I know it’s nothing special, but it’s all I have here… You don’t have to take it if you don’t want… I thought you might like it” – said the man in a hesitant voice “Thank you so much! That’s so lovely of you! I really appreciate it! You are right, I’m starving, and the biscuits are perfect for dinner!”

“If you like I could give you access to the driers and you could dry your leather suit there. You don’t need to pay for it, it’s all right” – continued the gentleman. “Thank you very much, but I can’t dry leather in a drier, it would destroy it. But I appreciate it and I’ll be all right. Thank you once again” “That’s all right. When you need anything I’ll be walking here all night with Rex, so just let me know and I’ll do what I can to help you” – said the man, and then turned to the dog and said “Rex, say good night to the lady and we let her sleep” the dog came closer to my tent, licked me on my face and made me laugh, and they walked away.

I was lying in my tent enjoying the biscuits and the ice-cold water. It was the simplest Christmas Eve dinner I ever had, but it tasted so good. When you hardly have eaten anything all day anything tastes good, but there was much more to it. It was all my adventures, the crazy riding and the kindness of a stranger. Somehow when I thought about what had happened that night and how my day ended I considered myself to be very lucky. I knew I would remember this special night for the rest of my life. It was the worst, but at the same time one of the best Christmas Eves I ever had.