I have much to daydream about at the moment; our farewell party, arriving in Japan, seeing our bikes fully loaded for the first time, our first blog post as bike travellers. It takes my mind away from work but also encourages me to appreciate it. Each morning I wake up in the softest and warmest of beds, the 4 blankets heavy on my body, pinning me into the mattress. My neck is stiff, and my dry throat and face is evidence that (once again) I didn’t drink enough water before bed. I wake up to the cold, fresh air streaming in hitting our faces from the open window right above our heads. It is my first reminder of the day of our upcoming plans, making me think of the fresh air that will be circulating around our tent while we sleep in our sleeping bags. When I have a moment to write in my notebook I think about the hours I will have and all the reading and note making I will do. I have ideas of making intricate studies of our campsites each morning. I will wake first, stretch and start heating up the water for a cup of tea, I will slowly walk, crouch and touch around our site, write about what I hear and see and feel. Much like I did in Nova Scotia when I was studying the local forest to get to know it better.
‘Now that Nova Scotia is my daily view I’ve found it hard to write about it in any interesting way. For a week I have been dissecting the world around me; I have been comparing, sitting, watching, listening, strolling, photographing, noting, pondering and touching the things around me in the hope to have something worth reading and I can understand what makes the east coast Canada’s beauty, so beautiful. I have discovered depth of sound, compared textures, watched movement and likened colours; feeling like a botanist, strolling around the forests with my notebook and camera, stopping, touching and taking notes.’
I had done a short study of 100 Pacific Highway one particularly quiet day last week. I was in the forest of Coldbrook for 5 hours picking it apart so 20 minutes in a foyer wasn’t going to bring much. I am enamoured by the idea of time being a friend and rolling with it rather then seemingly always running behind it, always having deadlines and demands and ferries to catch and packages that are late. Like the world record line in sporting events that athletes are running or swimming after, I could see the line I should be on and just never being able to catch it. But soon we will decide the speed of time ourselves. And that is what I think of the most when I daydream.
A Short Study of 100 Pacific Highway
Glass doors, only 2 in the 20 meter long glass wall of the front entrance. The interior is a complex collection of lines;
Rectangle wall tiles
Bolted to the walls are decorative squares made of rippled glass in an array of slightly muddy colours.
Burn out lines in the carpet going in multi directions in vivid violet.
Metal sequential vertical lines shoot up the back wall and continue into the ceiling as deep grooves.
There has been a lot of rain this week, and when there is rain, there is also the comment ‘you must hate this weather?’. I don’t, or rather I choose not to. ‘I like it actually’ I say, just to stop them from going on, as defiance to their whining. It is wet and it can get cold and it can feel like you are riding on ice all day but you also get to wear waterproof gear and squeak through lobbies and give knowing nods to other riders and if you have your hood up and some music on you can find a cosy place to be happy in. The rain battering your jacket can make a sound that is as comforting as rain on a tin roof.
I have a bit of an advantage doing the North Sydney run because it is on a hill and as I travel back to the city I can see the weather about to cross the building line and surprise the couriers running around inside. I dutifully with my head high ride back in to join them, knowing the next hour of weather because I can see into the distances and what it is bringing. One afternoon the most beautiful rainbow created by the break in the clouds as the sun was setting and the drizzle was hanging around Sydney. The rainbow connected Rosebay to Manly and I saw its entirety while Dan sent me a picture of an arm between the gaps of the buildings. Apart from being an all knowing weather girl I also am treated to a sunset everyday, not reflections off buildings but from the height of the bridge I see right out along the horizon. It’s a plus.
Another common question/statement that is asked is ‘you must be fit?’ I suppose so but I am so attuned to cycling that I can do little else. Walking is immensely hard and as soon as I have to walk up a hill I keel over and have my hands on my knees as I trudge upwards, I am stiff and sore and wake up with headaches because I am dehydrated and I am always so fatigued that I can’t even ride my bike that fast. So am I fit?
You know what else I want to bring up? My menstruation. It is a week a month that I dread. The products I have to use are so ill equipped for how I use them that I always end the day with blood on my pants. Most days I don’t have time for a sandwich, I eat while I am on my bike. I hold from weeing for hours and I will get to 3.30 without haven’t a drop to drink. So firstly the annoying thing about having a period as a courier is time wasted in the toilet ever hour. I hate tampons, if you aren’t bleeding enough you have to pull them out when they are dry and that feels like you are dragging out your Uterus with it. Also without really understanding why, it just seems very foreign to have something so manufactured and treated with chemicals and bleach to be in something so sensitive. But if I just wear a pad there are two guarantees, because I am sitting on something that is squished right up to my vagina the blood gets squashed to the edges and I have blood all over my undies and my pants. And the adsorbent padding, due to the heat and moisture and friction separates and the clumps to the back of the pad, all gathering around my bum and serving zero purpose. So every hour I am checking and changing and growing more frustrated. There is a solution, and it is one I am inevitably going to have to do, but I am scared and I have a few execution questions but my solution seems like it is this. It would be much better from a travelling point of view where if we were in an isolated area I wouldn’t want to carry my used menstruation tools for days or weeks to find a place to bin them, and other issues that would arise. It is a preparation for the trip that no blogger or traveller I could find gave their tips or tricks.
It was my birthday last week, I turned 27. Which is old for a young person, which is what I keep telling people who exclaim that I am a spring chicken. I don’t have any particular notable deeds to my name. But I am happy and I am really looking forward to what is next and I wouldn’t have gotten to that stage without the other 26 years. So ageing is ok for now.
Here is a picture of my Soy Cap with 1 sugar because thats the only other picture I took this week