Are we there yet?

There is a first time for everything, and while actually catching the flights I originally intended to is not the first time, it does fall into the 'minor miracle' category. I did do everything within my power to fall asleep, show up on the wrong day, time, airport etc. but ultimately I am just too darn excited by this trip to miss a minute of it.

A small part of me is sad to be leaving Broome, and all the beautiful people that make an amazing part of the world even more incredible. Celebrating with the usual suspects at a beach party in honour of everything and anything, I did see the most unbelievable thing to ever assail my eyeballs. As was expected at my last beach party, I was rather merry ie. off my face. The following phenomena was corroborated by a few sober people though, so it cannot be ruled out as an hallucination.

What little slice of moon there had been was gone, leaving a sky festooned with untold celestial lights. Pockets of hearty party goers had formed at various points along the soft white sand. Some threw an LED lit frisbee, some grooved to smooth beats, some were contemplating the vastness of the cosmos while others merely chatted, not daring to venture too far from an esky. I was skilfully attempting to do all of the above when Ash came over and told me to follow him into the ocean. The beach closed a week ago with the imminent arrival of jelly-fish, I had already dipped my toes in and decided the water was too warm to offer any relief from the heat, and Ash's impish excitement had me concerned what ulterior motives he might have harboured.

Never one to let personal safety get in the way of a good time, I did as told and waded out waste deep into the murky depths. “Watch this!” Ash squealed child-like, his balls ascending to their pre-pubescent height. As he carved an arc through the water with his hand, the motion set off all the phosphorescence that must have nothing better to do than glow whenever someone is around. A small wave crashed past and sparkles of life glimmered along behind like fairy lights. All submerged body parts glowed in the water and any motion sent off plumes of fluorescence in the charcoal ink of the sea.

It was utterly amazing and like nothing I have ever seen outside of a video game. I just waved my hands around in the water until even the poor lighting couldn't conceal I was turning into a prune. I did not want to stop as I still struggled to believe that some living thing could do that. And do it where I lived without having ever heard of it before. I thought it must be unique to the area, localised around Cable beach to coincide with my party. Fortunately not, as it was to be confirmed by someone on the East coast only a few days later.

There were too many highlights to mention them all, aided no doubt by the fact the night blended so subtly into the next day that no one seemed to notice. Except for Ash, as he had to fly back out to the mines for 2 weeks straight of work. He left looking totally incapable of 2 minutes worth of work and is possibly the only one who regrets not going to bed 6 hours earlier. My head finally saw a pillow when I realised that any attempts at cleaning at 7am would undoubtedly wake up a flatmate. That had hardly been a concern when it came to blasting out some beats a few hours earlier, but any excuse was good enough at that time of day.

10am I rose with only packing and cleaning on the agenda. Cleaning was as brisk and as thorough as you would expect after 3 hours sleep. Packing started off well by realising I had already made a list of things to bring. A relatively small, but concerning snag was hit when I was unable to remove the pedals from my bike. I continued with the rest of the packing, routinely returning to the task with increased annoyance hoping that an inanimate object understood when it is being sworn at.

With everything else complete, and the pedal still firmly wedged in place, I conceded defeat. Moe, not my bar-tender but my bike mechanic, showed no small amount of disbelief and concern when I showed up cursing anything related to bikes, tools, or my complete ineptitude at their use. Apparently my wrench was too short and unable to apply the necessary torque. I was dismayed to hear something else of mine is too short, but was nevertheless happy that it wasn't a matter of ability; for once.

Goodbye beers, or waters at least, were sped through at Matsos as I'm not one for prolonging the inevitable, and neither is my stomach. Ex Matsos model employee Nick showed how handy he is at the airport by checking in all my overweight luggage for free and giving me Row 1A seats for both flights. I didn't have to worry if my stomach was going to be able to keep anything down as I passed out as soon as my legs filled up the enviable leg room my advantageous seat position offered me.

A good night sleep on a plane is still a shit nights sleep compared to say, a park bench, but I had enough wits about me to realise that assembling my bike at the airport would make the Guinness Book of Records for worst idea ever. That was done in the luxury of Matty's pad in Albion, after a solid 6 hours sleeping on a fold out bed that far surpassed Row 1A and a park bench.

Having had no experience pedalling more than 5 times to reach a hill's peak, I figured I should try out a few hill climbs in Brisbane. Never one for thinking anything through, I threw myself at Mt. Coot-tha with the sort of reckless abandon normally reserved for big wave surfers or suicide bombers. 100 metres up the first and steepest incline I had to stop as I felt like I forgot to draw breath for over an hour. 4 more stops were needed before reaching the summit and I am sure I would have thrown up vital organs had my mouth not been so essential for gulping down air. I could have given birth at this point and not noticed as everything other than breathing was beyond awareness.

The descent was almost as interesting. Having never experienced speeds in Broome I hadn't generated myself, I was loathed to use the brakes for pretty much the first time. Having drowned in a sea of sweat on the ascent, my saturated outfit offered everything in the way of core cooling at a time when it was hardly needed. Initially applying the brakes rather judiciously, I still picked up a scary amount of speed until I decided to just ride the brakes the whole way. Wearing a brake pad down to the nub may give some indication of my laughable tolerance of fear.

That sense of fear did almost prove necessary when crossing the Breakfast Creek bridge, right near what Cold Chisel fans would know as the Breakfast Creek Hotel. Some enterprising Asian tour guide decided the best way to give his paying customers an unforgettable experience was to go drifting round the bridge entrance sideways. I wasn't close enough to be in any real danger, but you didn't have to be that close to see the whites of the bulging eyes on his disbelieving passengers.  Five cars were forced to skid in drastic action, a few shy of ensuring that tour guides outing would be his last.

The rest of the ride seemed delightful by comparison as Brisbane has an extensive network of bike paths winding through the city. Having decided that I couldn't possibly encounter a hill of such scale on the ride to Melbourne, I meandered back and forth along the beautiful Brisbane river as I had done on my commutes 4 years prior. 50kms after my two wheeled attack on a cliff face, the soreness in my legs was forgotten about when a storm blew in and I was forced to experience my first ride through rain.

The remaining four days were spent catching up with two other close friends from my Brisbane life and blowing my budget on a scale unseen since Egyptian times. I'm not sure what their Pharaohs spent on tombs in todays money, but they would have had more to show for their efforts than what I was hoping to overload my trailer with.

It was good to relive the best of Brisbane and remember how amazing the city had been to me. It was even better to reconnect with friends, absences spanning as much as six years, and remember how the passage of time can never dim the love I have for them all. As much as I would have loved to have stayed, a bigger adventure awaited that no amount of Egyptian riches could keep me away from.