Slipping into Brisbane

10th May : I've slipped into the southern areas of Brisbane. I feel comforted to be almost in site of my destination but solemn about the end of my journey. I'm looking forward to seeing everyone.

Letter

The aim of a motorway is to get you to your destination fast. Maybe designers think that destinations are huge fun but travelling between them is dreary? My destination was on my mind too, passing landscapes that were neglected and ill-considered. Unfortunately longing for the destination has never helped me get there any quicker. The car is king on the motorway and the people element is forgotten. But for the basic idea of heading north, I was forced to navigate the complex maze of side roads. There are very few places to stop and rest.

The trail north leads me through a hole in a fence, through waist deep weed infestation, over a drain, over a fence, down unnamed roads and along dirt tracks. I placed a lot of faith in this 'just head north' idea.

On my journey I've passed train stations, completely aware that my enduring pain could be over quickly and easily just by buying a ticket. That whole notion of giving in soon disappears as I considered for the first time how it might feel to walk into Brisbane. Train catching seemed like laziness. If a leg fell off at this point I'd regard it as a minor inconvenience.

A pretty girl on a bicycle smiled and waved as she struggled to steer in a straight line. My heart fluttered and everthing seemed lighter all of a sudden.

40km south of Brisbane I watched the sun go down. For a short while I considered walking all night to finish. Very little seemed impossible for me if I summoned one last surge of determination. My better judgement prevailed as I remembered the priceless value of sleep.