Here comes the sun

It took months to gather the strength and open the album with photos from your last travel, a 3-months solo journey across Australia. The moment I saw a photo of you camping on the Straddie, I knew I had to go there, to say yet another goodbye. That inspiring image keeps reminding me that I should not mourn or feel angry about your premature death but rather follow your meandering footsteps and continue exploring the world the way you did, wholeheartedly.

Therefore, I organized the whole trip and soon flew to Brisbane, which took a really long time considering the fact of Croatia being literally on the other side of the world. However, that proved to be no impediment once I set my foot on visiting, as Straddie is officially called, North Stradbroke Island.

Once in Brisbane, in less than an hour a ferry took me to a town called Dunwich on the western side of the island. The whole Straddie is actually a huge mass of sand sitting on a bedrock. No wonder, since it’s the world’s second largest sand island. I took a bus from Dunwich to Point Lookout on the other side of the island, overlooking the Coral Sea. I walked towards the Frenchmans Beach, for an unknown reason also called Deadmans Beach, most interesting during whale watching period. The closest to the town, it is also the only one with no lifesaving service even though sharks like to mingle there. I smile at the thought of you never listening to anybody, stubbornly deciding to swim with the sharks.

As if a whole year hasn't passed, I hope to find the writing in the sand still vivid, the same one I saw in your photos: „Here comes the sun...“

Indigenous people of North Stradbroke called it “Minjerribah” which in the aboriginal language means “Island in the Sun”. A poem entitled “Return to Nature” describing the island atmosphere rings in my head as I stroll down your favorite beach. Written by a poet called Oodgeroo Noonucal over 40 years ago, it depicts perfectly whatever it is that I’m feeling following your footsteps, taking no photos whatsoever, no matter how beautiful this place was, because you already made all the photos I need to remember this corner of the Earth forever.

“Was it yesterday or a thousand years,
My eager feet caressed your paths;
My opened fingers counted grains of sand
Hidden in the warmth of time.
Now my civilized self
Stamps its imprint on reluctant sands
And time has flown.”