My scribe rather rudely left her post there for a couple of days.. so here's a bit of a catch up..
Wednesday 3rd March : Just left Stratford, the last stop before a 53 km dry stretch to Bairnesdale. I'm sitting and watching a steady procession of cars, each with it's own destination and purpose.
Letter :
The more I think about having reached Sale the more I consider it a significant turning point. It's not just the fact I'm sitting at the round-a-bout where the Princess highway turns north after predominantly heading eastwards; it's a milestone for how I've thought about myself and the walk so far.
This morning as I packed up camp on another frosty morning, I contemplated how Sale marked one-tenth of my journey to Brisbane and how I only had to do the same nine more times. But as I walked to Sale City centre my focus changed to reassessing the purpose for this walk. From Traralgon I'd been chatting with people who were curious about my reason for walking and my offering that it was to satisfy a sense of adventure.
This might be true but by offering that reason, this morning, it made me feel like an extreme hobbyist. I wanted to talk with people along my walk about their lives but we only talked quickly about what I was doing. Walking between festivals and almost raising awareness to the idea of raising awareness hasn't seemed like a palatable reason on it's own. I was left slightly purposeless for a moment, considering briefly my options for aborting the idea.
Then I remembered my vision. It wasn't a vision of me walking but a vision of having completed the walk. It wasn't an image but a feeling of having completed and finalised a stage in my life. When I arrive back in Brisbane I'll feel ready to conquest a new vision of the person I want to become next.
The other reasons reaffirmed it was the right thing to do for myself as I believe in them strongly, but I'm walking this for me. I'm walking because I feel it's the right thing to do and because it's doing no one any harm.
I'm walking because I enjoy it and it's freedoms. Without being able to enjoy it I wouldn't have considered it any more than a fanciful dream.
The simple pleasures of talking to new people, of waking up on the banks of Sale creek, of walking through the streets of these townships, is impossible to experience as thoroughly by any other method. The sense of arrival in these places is something I'm yet to describe in a way that gives merit. Growing as a person is not a walk in the park for me. It seems I have some great expectations of what life should offer and only through these challenges will I ever live the life I want for myself. It is the completion of this walk that I will personally value the most.
These memories and this freedom will never be the same again and I'm fortunate to have the time to savour it in my writing.
The road ahead is looking long at the moment. It will take two days to reach Bairnesdale. At least the road is heading north now and shade along the road will be more available, I hope. When I'm done writing I'll go through my ritual of restocking my tucker bag, refilling my water and setting off once again.
I hoped to be talking with people I meet more often, and with a renewed focus on why I'm doing what I'm doing, maybe this will happen. Suffice to say I'm missing all the people I met while I was in Melbourne Town and all my friends and family everywhere.
Swaggie
Thursday 4th March ; Walked into Bairnesdale this afternoon and no, it didn't hurt. A long dry stretch where I chatted with a swedish cyclist and accepted a shower and a beer at a local's place.
Letter 5th March
From Bairnesdale to Orbost there's an old disused railway. It's been turned into a trail for cyclists and mad-keen walkers. That's where I've been travelling today.
Yesterday I was making my way into the town, chatting with curious people all the way. When I walked by the baking roadside I had an offer of a lift. The side tracks turned to loose sand so I only made my way off the road when I was having food or a rest break.
A swedish touring cyclist went by and I yelled "Race you to Sydney!" We had a long chat as we walked, about gypsies and taking opportunities when they're presented. Just as I was on the edge of town a local offered me a lift after having seen my in the morning on his way to work. Even after declining the lift he came out of his home on the main street, to offer me a beer and a shower.
I camped in the showgrounds, where it was popular for the swagmen in towns to stay at one time. At around 10pm I heard some night-time walkers comment, "watch you don't step on the gear bag". I stayed still and they didn't see through my clever disguise.
The town of Bairnesdale is one of the friendliest I've been through, with it's happy, curious people. A bus full of school kids passed by, each face wearing an 'I wish" look at me. I havn't yet had an opportunity to take my lifestyle for granted.
After my shirt wore thin and I decided I was showing more than a modest amount of shoulder, I bought a new-second-hand one. While my wallet was out I also replaced my boots. The heels were wearing thin and I'd found a similar pair to reduce the wear-in period.
On this trail away from the noise of the Princess Highway, I began to see my journey as a type of metaphor for any long term goal, for me or the whole world. Step-by-step, stage-by-stage, passing roadkill and rubbish, meeting people, seeing a new place all the time and perservering through whatever comes. My dreams at night have been thought provoking.
Swagie
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment