It’s 10:36 and I’m sitting on Ju’s bed having made it through my first day on the non-track track. I can’t say what exactly appeals to me about starting my walk from home… Something about stepping out your front door and just keeping on going. Not long after I left I found myself feeling a strange feeling of closeness and even tenderness towards the people who lived in the houses and tended the gardens I was walking past. A stack of bricks propping up a letterbox, a pruned bush, a purple girl’s bike and a car waiting to be fixed… We’re all the same, I thought. We’re all doing our thing. These lovely humans and I.
It was a big day, and tiring. I don’t know how far, maybe 27 or 28km or something. It took me just shy of eight hours, which included several pack readjustments, blister surgery, map consultations, falling asleep at lunch time, saviour icy-pole, and by the end, asking directions because I’d walked off my map. ‘Oh, no, Kenwick’s quite a way yet.’ they’d say. ‘You should go back to Cannington station and catch the train from there.’ Do you think they had missed my orange pack and walking sticks? Who knows. It’s unusual to walk from one side of the city to the other. It’s not nice like walking in the bush. The strange thing is that even though I experienced the continuity of landscape from home to here, tonight I feel like I’m on another planet! Maybe because I’m so . tired.
When I arrived I was like a walking zombie because for the previous hour and a half of walking I’d thought it would be ‘just round the next corner.’ Ju, my wonderful host welcomed me and let me lie horizontal and drink water and drift in and out of sleep for a while. Then she ran me a bubble bath. Oh, heavenly joy! Then there was food and epic fantasy on the tele. Feels like I’ve been here for ages.
A poem about simplicity I wrote several years ago that came back to me:
“Journey to simplicity
seems in essence just to be
You are you and I am me.
After all the sifting through
nothing else seems good or true
but I am me and you are you.”