Part 0.4 The Pub of Eden

Our journey continues after leaving the restaurant. I desperately wanted to make it to the border by nightfall. Still, exhaustion and daylight were getting the better of me. It was a good 700 kilometres to the border, and I left the restaurant around 2 pm. Having plenty of time to make the 6.5-hour journey, I was a little concerned. The thrill of the trip was the only thing keeping me awake until 5 pm. Which was pretty good considering I had been awake for over 24 hours at this point. The pain in my forehead was…bearable, and I was pushing along.

The road wasn’t anything special. However, I appreciate that Australia is my home, so I didn’t truly understand the beauty surrounding me. Tall gum trees, giant ferns and the smell of the ocean peppered my journey as my bike thumped* along at 100 kilometres per hour. One of my favourite parts of riding a motorbike is the smells you come across. The downside is that you get the delightful scents AND the disgusting. There’s nothing like the smell of rotting flesh assaulting your nostrils to remind you your alive.

As the day wore on, I began to realise I wasn’t going to make the border. It was getting late, and I needed to find somewhere to sleep. Mercy was found in a town called Eden. And of course, there was the “Garden of Eden” too. I’m almost positive it is one and the same as the garden spoke about in the Biblical stories. Almost…The pub/hotel wasn’t anything special and relatively standard to the Australian style. A beige 2 storey brick building with the typical red corrugated iron roof and timber balcony surrounding the second floor. Respite was achieved after a good old fashioned chicken parmigiana with chips and an ice-cold beer. It was a reasonable effort considering the trip began at 4:30 am until 8:45 pm and a distance of 726 kilometres. Also, a cheeky 13 kilometres of walking is thrown in for good measure**. All after an entire night shift with no sleep. Tomorrow would be easier. I hoped…

I awoke at the crack of dawn, feeling refreshed and ready for the final leg of the trip. A quick 512 kilometres to my sisters' house where I would store the bike for now. Leaving at 7 am was pretty standard for me as I’m a construction worker, and I usually start work around that time. It was a cool, crisp morning, and I was excited to get back on the road. Not without stopping somewhere for breakfast first, though. The restaurant of choice became evident when I passed a big, yellow single storey restaurant only 100 kilometres down the road. Apparently, it was due to the large picture of a motorbike in front of the restaurants' name. As a rule, I generally stop anywhere with a motorbike as part of their logo.

Overall the trip was reasonably mundane, just more highway riding. However, things got interesting when I entered the city of Melbourne. Apparently, there was a lag in my body, and I didn’t realise how exhausted I was until I dealt with city traffic. Also, I couldn’t touch the ground on the big girl and hadn’t actually ridden a bike in 10 years. The panic was real, and I was sure death was around the next corner, fortunately, like a lot of things we do in life. Imagination and reality are two different realms. This reminded me of the great Roman philosopher Seneca when he said, “We suffer more in imagination than reality”.

*I should point out to all the non KLR650 motorbike riders out there that when I say “thump”, I mean “thump”. The KLR is a single cylinder motorbike. Meaning all the power is generated from one piston. One LARGE piston. The result of which is a beautiful thump-thump-thump as you ride along.

** If you don’t know. In its infinite privacy-invading wisdom, Google tracks your movements and adds the data to your “Google Timeline”. Invasion of privacy aside, it is handy to check the when and where of trips like mine.