They Thought I Lost My Mind...

It was December 2007, exactly 7 months after Andy left me and my life got turned upside down. My financial situation was slightly better than in the first couple of months, nonetheless far away from good. I was riddled with debts (especially after I took huge loan to buy a motorbike), struggled to survive, and had not much hope for a better future. I was devastated and I couldn't care less if I was alive or dead. So what do you do as a single lady with no money and nothing to lose? Yes, exactly, take the bike and go to the sunset. I decided to go to Tasmania. My family and friends declare me crazy and suggested that instead of riding the motorbike I should seek psychiatric help.

Anyway, it was Friday evening, December 21st, when Caro came downstairs to the living room of our shared students accommodation and asked me “Have you changed your plans? Aren't you going to Tassie anymore?” “Of course I'm going. Why?” - I replied without any enthusiasm still blindly looking at the TV. “What?! You aren't even packed yet! What are you doing here?” - she asked avidly and somehow concerned. “I'm watching TV now” - I replied indifferently. “Really? What are you watching?” - she continued. “Fine! I don't know what I'm watching... You are so annoying! It's not even 9pm and I'm not going until tomorrow about 8am!” - I replied getting slightly agitated. “Yes, exactly is 9pm and you will be in bed in a few minutes, won't you?” - Caro didn't give up. “It seems you are starting to know me pretty well” - I laughed and added “Okay, I go and pack my bike. I feel as if you were my mum!” “Someone has too look after you, don't they? You are so irresponsible” - she laughed back at me.

Less than half an hour later my bag with some clothes, tools, a bit of food and water was strapped to my motorbike, as was 5l canister with reserve fuel (God only knew where I would end up), a $30 tent and a $5 sleeping mat.

The next morning at 8am I was dressed in my leather suit, including back-protector, boots and gloves, ready for my trip. “I will miss you!” said Caro looking at me warmly. I looked at her, smiled thinking to myself “You don't even really know me... Anyway, I don't miss people, I don't miss anyone, except of Andy, but it doesn't matter...” and after a short while I replied “I will see you in a couple of weeks when I get back” and I took off.

I rode through Gold Coast, pass well known to me Byron Bay, Ballina until I reached Ulmarra, about 300km south from where I left. I stopped at a car park at the muddy Clarence River. This was my first break, except of a short stop on the way to ensure my luggage was secured and nothing got loose. The weather was pleasant. It was cloudy and very windy, but at least not too hot and no rain. After capturing the river view on my camera I went for a walk in the center of the little town. I loved the old country stylish buildings, the little shops, even the commercial pub looked kind of exotic to me. The cars were so very old, a wonder they were still rolling on the streets. Everything painted such a huge contrast to the lifestyle I knew from Germany, where 5 years old car was perceived as an old-timer and shouldn't be on the roads anymore.

I jumped back on my bike and continue cruising south on the highway along the coast, stopping here and there to document the journey on photographs or on a video clips. I was well before Sawtel when it started raining, heavy enough to force me to pull over and put on my wet-weather gear. The wind was merciless, but even it wasn't able to stop me from enjoying the ride. The next stop was Sawtel where I went for couple of walks. Despite the stormy weather and grey sky I was mesmerized by the golden beaches and the unsettled blue-grey, slightly green waters of the ocean. I paused for a second and realized that in some respect the weather resembled the feelings boiling inside of me. On one hand I was filled with joy and excitement, the wonderful feeling of discovering new places. On the other hand, however, the pain of broken heart was killing me from the inside. Every time when I saw a couple-in-love all the pain surfaced and I just wished to vanish into thin air. I missed Andy so much, I missed the feeling of being loved and wanted, the feeling of mutual understanding which so strongly connected us in the first few years of our relationship. I fought with the tears filling my eyes.

It was already 3pm and I was still in Sawtel, not even half way to Sydney. “If on the morning of the 26th you want to catch the ferry to Tassie, you should be much closer to Sydney tonight” - I thought to myself, but I couldn't stop myself from walking along the various paths winding through the bush-land along the coast from one car park to the next and relishing in the amazing views.

I got back on my bike determined to continue my ride straight on the highway, don't stop anywhere on the way and ride as far as I could before it got dark. But as usually, despite all my best intention only 70km down the road I noticed a sign pointing towards a tourist drive through Arakoon & Trial Bay Gaol. For some mysterious reason my bike decided to take this exit and I found myself driving to Arakoon. “It's not so bad, it's only 30km off the highway, so... I can ride a bit quicker and in half an hour I will be back at the highway. It's not a big deal” - I thought to myself and happily drove towards the tourist attraction.

I parked my bike and went for a walk. I was fascinated by the more than 100 years old remains of the public works prison. The solid walls witnessed so much, if only they could speak and pass their stories to us... I would love to go for a walk through the ruins, but the museum was already shut for the day. And even if it wasn't I couldn't afford it – museums are usually expensive, so only for “the rich”...

After I finished admiring the ruins with the waters of the ocean in the background, I noticed a campground and on the fields next to it a group of large kangaroos grazing peacefully. I love watching animals, they make me feel so relaxed... “I could stay here on the campground overnight, it's such a blissful spot... But no, it's too early to stop riding, the night would be too long and lonely, and the constant thoughts of being alone are too scary... Not to mention I need to be much closer to Sydney. I better keep going” I thought to myself before I glimpsed at my watch “Oh no! I've been here at least half an hour! I definitely need to keep going! So much about 30min return trip! It will be well over an hour!” And so I was back on the road. Nonetheless my mind wasn't satisfied and a “discussion” started between the irresponsible me and the wisdom: “It's boring to drive back on the same road.” “Oh no, not again! You really have to go straight back to the highway, it's too dangerous to ride here at nighttime!” “But I have never been here before and who knows when I will be back, maybe never! It appears there is a road parallel to the Macleay River, it surely will be an amazing drive!” “For god sake! At least once in your life be responsible and go back to the bloody highway before you kill yourself somewhere on godforsaken roads!” “Oh, here to the left, I simply have to take this road... I just hope it won't be raining again, it's getting quite dark”. Doesn't matter how much I tried to be sensible and do the right thing, it simply didn't work and there I was riding on the minor narrow road admiring the views. I was somewhere between Jerseyville and Smithtown/Gladstone when the sun was setting down and... I had to stop again, to enjoy the moment. The clouds opened slightly and gave way to the last rays of the sunshine. On the lash green meadows along the river cattle was grazing peacefully. It felt so blissful, so far away from any stress and problems. It was a bit hurtful I didn't have anyone to share the moment with, more exactly I couldn't share the moment with Andy, but... I enjoyed it anyway. The only disappointment I felt was... the low light. I couldn't take any photos, as it was too dark. In my camera I had ISO 200 film and no tripod, so no way this would work.

Soon after the sun hide behind the horizon a complete darkness engulfed the world. From there on the ride was more a nightmare than fun.

“Dear God, as you know I actually don't believe in you, but... Let's leave this discussion for later. I also know that I shouldn't be riding at that time of the day, or night, whatever you want to call it, especially through this area. It is too dangerous, because of all the wildlife here, I know this. But, regardless of all that could you please make sure that I survive that ride and find some place to stay overnight? I won't promise you I won't do it again, because we both know I will do it again tomorrow, assuming I'll survive today, but think about my parents. My parents would be absolutely devastated if something happened to me. They are wonderful people, you know yourself how good and warmhearted they are. They are already going through so much because of me. They don't deserve all these, so please save them from more pain and make sure I get safely to my destination, wherever it will be”

And so praying in my head to the God I theoretically didn't believe in, I continued riding on the narrow road until I got back to the highway somewhere near Frederickton and from there followed the Pacific Highway to Port Macquare. There I faced the next challenge of finding a caravan park or camping ground for the night. I didn't have a smartphone or any access to internet. The best way to find a place to stay was by asking people at petrol stations (yes, I know, usually Information Centers are the places to get this type information, but obviously at this time of the day (or night) all Information centers were already shut). After riding through the unknown town and asking at a couple of places I finally had a place for the night.

While I was setting up my tent it was spitting rain again. I was so exhausted that I couldn't care less about anything. All I wanted was sleep. It took me probably 10min to set up my tent, throw everything inside and get ready for sleep. I had a small cooker to warm-up my meals, but... when you are as tired as I was, you really don't care about a warm meal, so I just opened a can and ate it cold. The good part about arriving everywhere so late was, I was so worn out that I didn't have the strength to fall into self-pity and despair caused by my broken heart issues and all the challenges I faced in “real life”. As soon as I wrapped myself in my sleeping bag and rested my head on a jumper rolled together to form a pillow, I was gone into a dreamworld.