I spent Christmas with strangers.

Gratitude; noun

“the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful”.

My parents always taught me not to speak to strangers. I never answered the front door without looking through the peephole first (or the window when I was too little to reach), I didn’t stop to talk to anyone I didn’t know in the park or on the way home from school. If someone pulled their car over, I walked faster and out of reach and if that wasn't possible I pretended to be on a phone call. Stranger Danger they call it. It is one of the vital lessons for children to learn, especially in this day and age where technology makes talking to strangers so accessible.

Fast forward to the year 2019, I am an adult now (I think?), a solo female traveler, off on my own in the big round scary world. I made friends, I was careful but I had fun. Europe is a beautiful place full of wonders, what’s not to revel in. It is though, a place much like the rest of the world, full of strangers. Some good, some not so good. Drugged drinks, money stealing trickery, pockets picked, bags stolen... But from lessons learned since childhood (Thanks mum and dad) I find myself capable of choosing, or finding, the right kind of trustworthy people. I find myself in central Europe, with a fellow Australian who quickly becomes my closest friend and ally. We were both a little lost, he stuck by me and organised a shuttle to my hostel. Talk about good deeds. We travel everywhere together, drinking and laughing, partying and exploring. What a whirlwind friendship, one that continues now and one that I believe will continue through the ages. We started out as strangers and we met numerous people we no longer call strangers but friends.

Fast forward some more, a few months further into the year 2019. My partner and I have moved from Australia to the UK, separately, this is where we met. He on a visa, me with a passport, two separate sides of Australia, hours apart from each other, two dreamers dreaming, one of living in Ireland and one of exploring unexplored waves, but going through the same life altering moments and making the same life changing decisions. Do I want to sell tickets on the street in London for paintball or do I want to educate children on outdoor activities?

So after educating children in outdoor activities, learning about zip wires, abseiling, forests, archery, rock climbing, in England and in Scotland, we made our way to a hostel in the northern most town on the British Mainland. We were helped immensely by a Rental Agency who managed to get us into our first home within two days of having contacting them in December 2019. Plans to leave in April 2020 to travel and make our way to Ireland would soon be shafted.

We are now in April 2020. We have been in lockdown since March in a house that does not heat up and has a draft coming from under the kitchen floor. We are stuck in a small town where surfing is your only outlet. Problem is there's not a whole lot of surf after winter and police are on high alert for anyone found doing anything other than walking or cycling. We have been told we can go back home to Australia but flights will be limited and things will be hectic, so we decide to wait it out. We still have 13 months on my partners visa. Surely the government would soon have things under control and we can begin our travels again. We did after all, relocate to the other side of the world for adventure and freedom. Surely it wont take long?

August 2020, 4 months off schedule, we decide to buy a van now that lockdown is over. We can make up for lost time and see more of the UK before we have to head home in May of 2021. To say we were pretty excited is an understatement. Van life, what a dream right? We bought the van, decked it out with the help of a stranger we met on gumtree (Yes, another stranger), decorated her and made it our own little bohemian home on wheels. It is STRESSFUL (trust me it deserves capitals). But it's also fun getting creative and as we found out, it's a huge learning curve. Things were going so right, adventures were not far off. And believe me, there’s a list of things that went right.

But for humours sake, here’s a list of everything that went wrong with the van;

- MOT failed, although we were ensured it would pass. We got it fixed.

- Finding insurance was a mess, three days of research and $1800 later... for only one person to be insured. Which technically in the UK means I can't drive. What's the deal with that?

- The gas bottle for our stove cooker ran out of gas on the second night. We hadn't used it once yet and had just purchased fresh veggies and a small supply of meat, oh and cheese. *insert drool here* . We don't eat a lot of meat and we don't like to waste anything, especially food.

- A bolt in one of the back doors has fallen off and now I can’t close the door, my partner has to do it every time because I’m not strong enough. Can the gyms please open back up now?

- The bed broke (No, it is not what you’re laughing about to yourself please get your mind out of the gutter). We used a lot of second hand wood to make the inside of the van. Seriously, we don't like wastefulness. REUSE people.

- The wind almost tore the passenger door off its hinges resulting in only being able to get in and out through the drivers side door for a few weeks.

- The fuel injector pipe (one of four) had a terrible leak, resulting in diesel making its way throughout the bonnet and causing billowing smoke to scare us into believing we were on fire. We were told we were lucky it didn’t catch fire. Thank goodness we’re diesel not petrol.

- The wrong fuel injector pipe was delivered. This resulted in us having to stay out the back of the mechanics for three nights.

- The handbrake stopped working, meaning we rolled down hills and had to find the flattest parking possible until a garage could fit us in a week later.

- The first garage didn’t have the right lift to hold the weight of our van. We had to re-book for another garage, this meant another week of searching for free flat parking. Cornwall is expensive when it comes to parking, holy moly.

- The water tank was empty. We asked the garage about it, they said it would be fine just fill it up again. It emptied within two days.

- Had the van looked at by numerous garages to find the leak. It could not be found. They suggest a quick fix of Steel Seal should do the trick and an oil change. While looking for and not finding the leak, they did however find that both our leaf springs (suspension for back of the van) had snapped.

- Had to get the leaf springs fixed, resulting in more time not actually on the road.

- Got a flat tyre

- Car overheats, water tank is empty again. We get it checked out, no one can find the problem. We have the oil changed (again).

- Engine light comes on, water tank is empty again, water is in the oil tank.

It's the morning of December 23rd 2020, we have travelled for just under three of the four months we have had the van. We have made our way back up to the north of Scotland, where we were originally locked down the first time. It was supposed to be a short visit, we had our ferry tickets to Ireland booked, Christmas with family in Belfast was arranged. Christmas presents from Australia have been sent to Northern Ireland, I have sent my partners present to Northern Ireland. (A pair of brand new hiking boots because his current ones have holes in them!).

We are told our van cannot be fixed. She has a cracked head, she needs a whole new engine.

Northern Ireland closed their borders, our ferry was cancelled, Christmas with family was cancelled. My dream of living in Ireland was cancelled. My partners dream of photographing Irelands hectic waves was cancelled. Living in our beautiful van full time is cancelled. We are back in another lockdown, with five months of our time here in the UK left. Pretty safe to say it has been one very trying year. I haven't even mentioned all the heartbreaking events occurring back home in Australia at the same time. To say our heads are in a disoriented state might still be an underestimate of where we are mentally.

January 27th, 2021.

I want to talk about why we're still going, still fighting to move forward. Oppression consciously trying to beat us down. Why we've not drowned in hardship and self pity and become hateful people. It's not just because we know others have maybe had it worse. It's because of strangers. Kind people, people that have enough good in them to make the sun shine brighter on us although we live in a country where the sun rarely shines.

Thank you, to the most caring and beautiful 21 year old I have met. It all started with her good deed, something as simple as a filter. Because her heart is so big, so generous. To her family that taught her kindness and understanding, who took us in to their home, opened their door lovingly and willingly and gave us a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, morning coffees, who gave us a family when we needed it the most. Who put us in their bubble. You will forever be my family.

Thank you to the first mechanic, who opened his garage doors to us even though he was booked out. Who provided us with hot water, castle recommendations, a bathroom, music and a place out of the heavy rain. Enjoyable evenings playing and listening to acoustic guitar will remain a fond memory. What a legend.

Thank you to the gentlemen who work for the roadside assistance, who went truly above and beyond and who show in their actions how much they love the work they do. I haven't seen people truly enjoy their work in a long time. You showed up, you stayed, you tried, you made calls, you directed us, you showed up again when you didn't have too and then AGAIN to check up on how we were doing. If we could find you again, I would hug you and buy you a beer in the pub you recommended and I would toast a cheers to YOU.

To the strangers having a picnic in the sun, on a rare glorious day, St Michaels Mound in the distance. Thank you for the bottle of champagne, I genuinely hope you arrived home safely. To the stranger in the van who was from Poland, who recognised we were far from home never mind that he was too. Thank you for the bottle of wine and the bottle of beer and the plant that you grew yourself. The generosity and kindness of strangers that have no reason to be kind, other than they feel like it, has baffled me, in a pleasing way.

To the surfer friends in our current home town. Who gave us insulation in the van knowing we had no heating and the winter weather was looming in. To the van friends, who just get it. Who shared stories and beers and advice and their dogs. Especially their dogs. Seriously thank you, for letting me pretend your doggos are my own. A dogs love is like nothing else in this world.

To our neighbors, our admirable, wondrous neighbors who again, opened their doors for many pleasant cups of tea, warm nights in a heated lounge, a hot shower and much needed conversation. Thank you, for your human interaction. For the part you played in ensuring we had a roof over our heads for the unforeseeable future. For your humaneness that has touched my heart and that will live in there forever. You are by far, the best part about this town.

To our excitable and frothing friends in Edinburgh, that we could call and cry to when days were not good. That offered sympathy and laughter and words of wisdom all in one sentence. The best coffee we have had in months, brownie cut offs and safe places to rest our heads and our feet. Edinburgh is a place of historic beauties, but if you weren't there I'd not bother going back. YOU make Edinburgh.

Lastly, to the best mechanic in Caithness, his intrepid partner and her gentle father. Who refused to let us spend our cancelled Christmas alone. Who picked us up, took us to their Christmas decorated home, cooked and baked delicious meals, whose pets showed us love and affection. Who made us feel as though you were not strangers but friends we have known our entire lives. For Christmas this year I received the best gift I think I ever have, a lesson of good deeds and paying it forward. If one day I have the chance to open my doors to strangers in need on Christmas, I will tell them all about our magical Christmas with you. I will be grateful for the rest of my days, thank you.

All the above good deeds that people, some of them strangers, showed us and did for us, are the good deeds that have kept us going, that to this day have changed us, our lives, the way we look at society. Because of your average, everyday people (I'm going to put them in the good people category) and their good deeds, two grateful Aussies trying to navigate their way through travelling in the middle of a pandemic over the other side of the world, are still smiling.