Sunday Driver

I remember joking about Sunday Drivers. They wear a hat, drive too slow, and don't have any sense of urgency, generally holding up traffic. Mostly found on country roads.

A combination of multiple things, including a window of opportunity, a glorious 19°C Spring day and a terrible case of cabin fever led me to drive towards a nearby beach on a Sunday afternoon.</p>

It was only as a car came up behind me on the highway, and I noticed I was driving 10km under the limit, looking around at the scenery, that the penny dropped: I was a Sunday Driver! The only thing missing was a hat! (I had actually contemplated wearing my sunhat, with the sunroof open!)

So it came to pass that I transitioned to a new Life Stage: Middle-Aged Sunday Driver.

I wasn't driving to anywhere in particular, necessarily, but driving for the pleasure of driving. The pleasure of seeing new sights, of seeing the natural world in all its glory. The pleasure of being on my own in a safe and comfortable space. The pleasure of freedom.

This kind of driving has been a luxury for me. Petrol costs money, and for most of my life there have always been urgent things demanding my time and energy.

A series of events in my life have led me to decide that it is high time for me to have and do all those things I have always wanted to. Like be free.

Today, I was valuing myself. Placing my needs above others.

Possibly one of the factors contributing to my wanderlust was an article I read recently, about a Tasmanian woman and her daughters who drive by a die. They roll a die to determine where they go, what turns they take, what places they stop.

I have no interest in having chance determine my choices, but it did remind me that I had no pre-determined destination or agenda, and could make choices that suit me in the moment.

My original plan was to drive to a beach, about an hour away, and take photos. I have been sick recently, so was equipped with a face mask. Because I'm having joint pain, possibly as a side-effect of the cortico-steroids, and am still very fatigued, I had to reconsider.

My physical limitations meant that I did not feel up to driving that far. I made my goal smaller: I decided to run errands and get myself some lunch.

Coincidentally, I drove past a fortnightly International Food Market. (https://worldstreeteats.com.au) I had meant to go to that sometime, and had said a day or so earlier that I felt like Thai food. I found a park and went in.

Quite astonishingly, my lunch was free. It was also Thai.

I arrived as the food stalls were closing. Initially the vendor told me that they didn't have any left, then they checked and filled a container with what they had, and told me not to pay! When I looked at them in astonishment, she repeated: "No need to give me any money."

Very kind, and unexpected. Presented to me with care and thoughtfulness, too.

A small and simple thing, but very much appreciated, especially as the previous vendor sold me only about 3/4 of a cup of tea and was weird about it. 🙄 Maybe it was my mask.

I meant to take a photo of the Thai food van, to give them recognition, but I forgot. They're not listed on the web page. I did remember to take a photo of the food.

The food was nourishing and gave me energy. The kindness added to my sense of well-being.

I actually felt like I now had more energy than before. Yay! Getting out of the house was absolutely the right choice.

Something I've been doing for a few years is taking photos of plants and flowers. I like plants and flowers. I've grown a flowers from seeds at different times over the years. I'm a keen pot-plant Mum. The experience has added to my appreciation of the work of gardeners and horticulturalists everywhere. (I even dated a Horticulturalist in 2020.) I love the beauty of plants: their colours, shapes and sometimes smells. I'm inspired by their tenacity: they can grow in unlikely cracks and angles, clinging to the slightest possibility and climbing towards the light.

I often think of the Beth Nielsen Chapman song "Life Holds On" when I see a plant growing against the odds. (Han Solo: "Never tell me the odds!")

So I took some photos of plants nearby to where I had lunch. There is a little Grove of Palms and other plants, forming a beautiful oasis. Most days, it's where smokers congregate from the nearby Police and City Council buildings. Today it was smoke free and lovely.

I was pleased at the opportunity to take the photos, but too tired to check them now.

That's OK. I have learned over many years of many illnesses to "follow the energy", as my Uni Lecturer Cec Craft would say. I have also learned to prioritise, and both seize the opportunity and leave things for later.

So: I ran my errands. Nice feeling: having things checked off the list. Satisfying to feel prepared.

I considered several options for destinations after that: various coastal destinations, small country towns inland, the nearby Mountain.

I decided on a route along the river, across a bridge and back along the river.

Then I drove.

I missed the turn to the bridge. I remembered the woman and her die. I remembered that I was not obliged to follow any particular route. I could always drive that route another day.

So, while I would normally feel some stress and annoyance at the waste of petrol and time, and look for the next place to turn around, instead: I shook it off. I relaxed. I decided to see what unexpected adventure awaited.

I saw a turnoff to a place with a name that caught my attention, so I went there. I spent a short while there, and took photos of plants and scenery on the side of the road.

I returned to the main road and drove to a town which had a scenic lookout on top of a small mountain. It was great to be out in the fresh air and not to need to wear a mask.

I took a few photos but it was a bit disappointing, really. I guess I have become spoiled from my various other travels. Or I was too ill and tired to appreciate it.

On the way back down, I noticed flowers on the side of the road, and stopped for more photos. These made me happier, and I stumbled across fields of flowers growing wild. So many different flowers, not all native, and all mixed together randomly. I was wondering about this when I realised I was at the edge of the local waste transfer station - likely the flowers had come from seeds in refuse.

How marvellous! Life Holds On.

That which was thrown away proliferated anyway, and made a beautiful, unexpected landscape.

The photos don't really show the field of yellow flowers on the right and pink and white flowers in front, so I am feeling petulant about wanting a "proper" camera now.

A bit further down the road I had to jump a ditch of water to get to some flowering wattles. I've mentioned that I'm not in the best health. I didn't quite make the jump and got mud on my shoes.

Never mind. I got my photos!

I didn't make the jump back either.

Back at the car, I got out the baby wipes that I now travel with, and cleaned my shoes and phone, which was splashed with mud on the jump back. The mud hadn't soaked through, so there was no harm done at all.

By now, I was feeling particularly blessed and thankful for my preparedness.

Being so close to the town, I continued on, with no expectations of anything particularly photogenic, but still planning to get to the water.

I found signs to a marina, so went there. There was a damaged boat out of the water, complete with smashed windows and police tape. A rare opportunity for close-up photos of a few unusual parts.

This was also motivation for walking further than I planned. I needed some puffers after all this.

I couldn't get a good photo of the boats on the water, so drove around to the other side of the pier to try again.

Walking towards the water, I noticed a solo Pelican swimming towards me eagerly. There were some people fishing at the end of a pontoon. I took some photos of the Pelican as it swam and turned its head. It was almost like it was posing, offering me different shots.

Again I felt privileged to be led to something worth seeing. The Pelican made me smile. There's a short video here.

It also showed me that I really deserve a proper camera, as my phone didn't have the power to take good resolution photos at that distance in late afternoon lighting.

The sun was setting.

I decided it was time to get something to eat and head home.

I had noticed a local pub nearby, so got my mask and handbag and went there. I got as far as the front door and checked in with the Tracing app, but it felt off, and I decided not to go in. I saw a cute little restaurant on the next corner, and almost went in, but by now had realised I should drive home before the light failed and there were animals on the road.

So I went to the supermarket and bought a salad and a travel cutlery kit. (Equipment for future drives!) I washed the cutlery with the bottled water I carry in the car and again felt well prepared.

I put my bone conduction headphones on, which give me clear sound but still leave my ears to listen to driving /environmental sound, and put a recorded church service on my phone to listen to in the way back.

Then I drove home.

BUT

My adventure wasn't quite done.

Outside of town a man was desperately flagging me down.

I've happily picked up hitchhikers since I've had a driving licence. Not always, especially when my children were small, but several times. I've never felt unsafe, and the hitchhikers were always pleasant and gracious. I would chat to them like I was getting to know someone at a social event.

This time I did not want to. It felt dangerous.

But: Here I was, burning fossil fuel, driving an empty car and listening to church.

Here was a person in failing light on a lonely road, unlikely to have many other opportunities, and a long, cold night's walk ahead.

Of course I stopped.

I should have driven a bit further, because he was opening the door and getting in before I'd even finished clearing the seat!

It was an emotionally uncomfortable drive for me. My mask felt inadequate. I tried to be as polite as possible.

My passenger explained his antivax beliefs to me. He did not want to wear a mask.

I was again glad of my preparedness: I had bottles of drinking water in the car - a new thing for me to buy bottled water - and the speed at which he drank showed how badly he needed it.

My passenger said a lot of things, including that he suffered PTSD from his military service, and from following an order to kill that he didn't agree with. That was entirely understandable.

He was going to the far end of the city, which was exactly on my way.

I didn't even tell him my name, but tried (in vain) to suggest some resources that he might find helpful. Under ideal circumstances, I would have had a more therapeutic conversation to help him towards greater self-actualisation, but I was exhausted and in pain.

I was also wondering if I'd just exposed myself to new germs while in an immunocompromised state and about to have minor surgery.

Dropping him off was a relief. Getting home and into bed was an even bigger relief.

But: now I'm officially a Sunday Driver, I will very likely go for another drive on a Sunday.

You never know what's going to happen!

Country roads lead to quiet, unexpected joys.