I’m having troubles recollecting on what seems to have been a life time, complete with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Two weeks seems like nothing when you’re floating in between space and time. Aided by alcohol and people that make you laugh, maybe it goes hand in hand, I’d rather not dissect the question because I like the magic in mystery. That is what this has all been. One magical mystery walking and driving through chaos protected by a thick layer of smoke, never knowing when I’ll arrive at the next destination, and never knowing when I’ll have to leave; metaphorically speaking as we did plan on the dates or arrival and departure between Surfer’s Paradise, Byron Bay, Sydney, and Melbourne.
So these ramblings will have to do, where I’m in a daze mere hours after my new family has divorced. Ever since Kyle and I met up with Jack and Ro in the Paradise for the Surfer’s, I was convinced that it would last for the rest of time. While I’m aware that’s not how time or this universe works, I was alarmingly able to dismiss the thought and live inside some bubble protected by thick smoke. What an incredible time to be alive, where walking through such a storm you can at the same time feel things click into place with utmost unexpectedness, where you can be on the other side of the world and become brothers with people from the other side of the world.
Beaches here are full of sand so fine that it squeaks when you walk on it. Not something I was prepared for, but something I’ve been able to overcome. Such a hard life to lead. The sand was the same in Surfer’s and Byron Bay, although I would prefer if it was only at the beaches and not in the showers, the bed, my clothes, the stairs, my hair, and inside of my shorts. Meeting people who share the same hardships has been a pleasant experience, my time spent with the family at the Down Under Hostel was one for the books. Kyle had a little fling with an Argentinian “Mama Cita”, while I had the pleasure of speaking english to a pretty french girl. Jack-o had his fair share of course and surprisingly, I think Ro met his future wife. It was from that point on we had lost a part of our brother as he occasionally lagged behind, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. We gave him the shit he deserved, with a side of jealousy perhaps, but no one would ever admit it. Forced to hit the road by our curiousity and the hand of those pesky clocks pulling at our collars, beckoning to press forward - this being south - and upkeep this layer of smoke we so desperately wanted to live in forever. Not to be taken with a negative connotation, just the natural order of things, when things are good they’re good and there is not reason to strive for more, especially when things are great.
Byron Bay holds no special place in my heart, I don’t know if it was the literal wall of thick smoke that had replaced our comfortable metaphorical one or the sheer amount of elephant pants and white people with dreadlocks. I really wanted to like it, but I couldn’t swallow my pride with a belly full of wine and lungs full of dust kicked up by bare feet. Sure it was pretty, but so are most places unmolested by humans. Yet, it was still an experience not soon forgotten, made possible by what we deemed ourselves, The Fo(u)refather’s. Founders, brothers, and there’s four of us. In between deep slumbers, the sun shone down in aggressive orange, no paler than the skin of an orange. Disconcerting as it was, we found ourselves in a Secret Garden - an event space where the drinks are plentiful, the pizza cheesy, the music loud, and the girls dressed as if it were a ball and they were all Cinderella, alas not many wore shoes so there was no glass slipper to use as a sextant for a princess.
The literal smoke was warring with our metaphorical veil, we needed to make it to higher ground. Sydney was the destination, there couldn’t be a brush fire where there was no brush so we felt it safe. However, our journey to the next part of the journey was not uneventful. It was on this leg we were redirected around fire choking the highways and over 2,500,000 acres of land in New South Wales alone. Ol’ June pulled through and we were thankful for her four wheels powered by an engine, even if we didn’t have A/C, it was better than nothing.
So we made it. The war between the two walls of smoke had left our protecter in shambles and we knew this part of the trip was coming far too close to a close. It’s a complex feeling having fun and knowing it will soon end, it takes you from the moment for a time to be grateful, but are unable to truly enjoy it when you are there. I’m sure we have all felt this and it is one of those unanswered questions in life, to live fully in the moment or to take a step back and be grateful, or try to find a balance between them. Again, another question I would rather not dissect. The magic in the mystery is all I have to keep me going, like lifting up a rock to see what is underneath, damaging to what lives under, and now that you’ve seen it, it doesn’t matter to you, so appreciate the rock.
Part two to talk about Sydney, Canberra, and Melbourne.
