Goodbye

It's strange how sometimes things change so quickly in life.
Yes, in life. Because this is my life now, my present life, in this moment.

We were very tired yesterday evening, when arriving at the Outback Pioneers Lodge after nine hours riding on dirt roads.
Jan wanted a beer. He wanted it immediately. He needed it.
I needed to pull off my bike suit, my boots, and wear comfortable flip-flops.
Then I reached him and I ordered two Outback Burgers (with eggs, bacon, tomato, pineapple!, and hamburger of course): they were higher than wide, not easy to bite.
Jan ordered other two beers: another one for him, and one for me.
I don't remember how many years (yes, years!) it was that I did not drink a pint of beer, a whole pint of beer; maybe I never did it before...
But it was a particular day. A day to remember.
We were happy. Tired but happy.

Who follows our SPOT tracking already knows that...we came back.

Yesterday morning the sky was not encouraging: black clouds all around.
It did not seem the right day to start.
We woke up early, but then we slowed down: we wanted to be sure, we wanted to have all the possible information before taking our last decision.
We went to the roadhouse, we went to the police station, we went again to the meteorological station. Collecting information: on the road, on the weather.
The only policeman of the station was sick at home. Another employee there told us that he came just the day before from Warburton: no problems on the road.
"Great!" we thought. But he did not know anything "official". He tried to call, but they are one hour and a half less there, in Warburton, so nobody answering yet.
We took our bikes, and went again to the meteorological Station. The guys called here and there, kind as usual. For the shire of Laverton the street is open, but the shire does not include Warburton...
The Police in Warburton did not answer: the Police station was flooded, maybe there's nobody there.
The Roadhouse in Warburton said: the street is officially closed.
So we had no choice: we had to go back.

We went back to the "room" and finished packing.
But I wanted a more "official" information, I did not want to surrender...
So I called the local shire, the shire of Ngaanyatjarraku.
They said that they were inspecting the road; it was monday morning, they were just going out. During the weekend no news, no new bulletins. That's why we wanted fresh news, and we were still illuded.
"From Warakurna to Warburton no big damages, but west of Warburton parts of the street have been literally washed away by the rivers full.
Anyway: the road is officially closed." And maybe it will take weeks before its reopening.
No way.
We had to come back.

The weather started to become a little bit better, and the guys at the Station said that the forecast gave thunderstorms as usual in the afternoon, but less chance going east.
So we started.
It was late, 11.30 am. But in any case we had a stop to do in Docker River, to fill our tanks, and they reopen at 2pm after lunch break, so we were not in a hurry.
The street till Docker River was good as a few days before. We arrived just after the reopening.
Luckily the camel was far, in the end of the street. They told us that that camel lives in the village since it was a baby.
Then started the long way back, in the Northern Territory. Some parts of the street were better, at the beginning. We went faster than when going.
But the second and the last part were more sandy. It was very difficult.
Jan was much faster than me: I don't know if it was that he had practiced and learnt, or if it was because he felt in a hurry to reach Perth in time for his flight.
I think it was because of that black big cloud full of rain approaching on our right.
We missed it really for a few. It started to rain a little, then it stopped. We have been lucky. If it started to rain on that street, we would have been stuck there for the night, for sure.
In any case, he was faster than me.

I was very sad, because I don't like to go back. Never.
But we had no choice. No sensible choice I mean. No legal one.
In one point, trying to change path, the sand "dune" was too high, and I fell down.
Yes, I did it. For the first time in this long trip.
But it was not a problem, I was going maybe at 30kph, and there was the sand, as I am saying.
No problems for me, no problems for the bike. And I was not scared, not in panic, as it happened to me other times. It was really a harmless fall.

We went on slowly, when stopping I was always asking the distance travelled to Jan (my speedometer is not working anymore...)
When we reached the tarmac road, by the Olgas, just on the sunset, we were very happy. We did it in one day. 300km offroad.
Other 45 km to the Resort, in the dark, but on paved road.
We decided to stay in the "Lodge", too late and too tired to put the tent on the campground.

What happened then I already told You, at the beginning of this post.

While drinking the beer Jan told me his crazy idea:
"How many km to Port Augusta?" he asked to me.
"About 1200" I answered.
"I have to say to You something You will not like" he said to me, "I will go there tomorrow".
"How can You do it? It's 14 hours travelling!" I said.
"I will wake up at 5 o'clock tomorrow morning and I will do it".

And he did it.

This morning he started at 6, and I still don't know where he has arrived.
So we divided.
We had good time together. He is a very good fellow.
23 days, from Sydney to Uluru.

He wants to reach Perth as soon as possible,
he will put the bike on the train to Perth, from Port Augusta.
His best friend lives in Perth, he rightly wants to spend some time with him before going back to Czech,
and in our plan we would have arrived in Perth just a couple of days before his flight,
without considering any inconvenience.

So now my life has changed, I am alone again.
I have to replan everything: timing, direction, mind.

It's so sad to say goodbye.
I had to do it so many times on my trip, and it's always difficult the same.
With Jan it was good company, we have the same age, we understood each other quite well.

Never in my life like in this trip I appreciated the fact of not being alone.
I often need to be alone. I always said that I could easily stay alone, I can usually stay alone without any suffering.
And it was like this, in the first part of this trip, till Kazakhstan.
Then in Korea and Japan I started to suffer a little bit of loneliness, and from there on I really appreciated when being hosted, not only for meeting new people, but for feeling somehow like in a family...

A friend of mine said to me that really a few people are "free spirits", able to live alone without any "bond".
I thought I could be. But it's not like this.
Maybe because of habit.
There are many kinds of bonds: family, friends, job, commitments.
And it's like a sort of "training": all our lives subject to some kind of bond, that now we can't do it without.

Then, one of the (many) great things of not being alone is that You laugh.
I am not one who is able to laugh reading a book, or an email, or while chatting...
So when travelling alone it's rare to laugh.
But when in two, it happens, and it's so good!

While writing these rows, on the campkitchen table,
there are many little mice running, over here, under there.
And big blackbeetles. Bigger than the mice.
So I am not alone :-)
I am going to sleep now,
tomorrow I have to change again the tyres...a lot of tarmac is waiting for me now...