It’s not about the journey…

You know that saying, ‘It’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey’? Well I would like to take it one step further. It’s not about the journey but about the experiences.

A lot of people interpret the common saying as to not be destination driven. To look out the window and admire the views as you rush by them. To plan a few nice touristy stops along the way. To pedal hard reminding yourself the outcome will be worth it.

This is only a side thought, I’m actually here to talk about travel experiences, but… Do we do this with our life? Is looking out the window watching TV or gaming after work? Are the touristy stops having a weekend away every now and again? Do we work hard for years trying to reach for something only to figure out once we are there we are too old to enjoy it? Something to think about anyway.

This year I was determined to travel all over the place. No where in particular, but just to go see new sights and experience new things. I had things on my list like, (please excuse my use of old English names here, I’m still getting used to the new/original ones) see Ningaloo Reef, see Lake Eyre, see Katherine Gorge, stop at White Cliffs on my way to Cameron’s Corner. But I looked at the list and saw it was lacking. So I could go see these things. Then what? Tick them off a list? This wasn’t me. I’m of the kinaesthetic variety of human. So i altered the list.

Snorkel at Ningaloo Reef. Fly like a bird over Lake Eyre. Swim in Katherine Gorge. Sleep underground at White Cliffs. For places I didn’t know what I expect, I decided I’d chat to locals and hear the different aspects and stories about the place. It’s the little treasures I see, hear, feel that make me feel really alive inside. They awaken something in me that feels like an explosion of colour and light and warmth that tries to escape out through my wide smile and sparkling eyes. It’s no doubt just adrenalin, but it’s not the adrenalin I enjoy or seek, but the experiences themselves.

It got me wondering how many other people feel this? Your thrill seekers? Your extreme sports participators? But in repetition are they just enjoying the thrill of adrenalin or the actual thing they are doing? Are there lots of people doing the nine to five slog earning money for a comfy home, happy wife, silent children, easy retirement, who are missing out on these experiences because they are too busy to notice them?

Yesterday I got to experience something I wasn’t expecting.

I hadn’t planned on stopping at Harrington NSW till a week ago when I had to quit my travel plan and head back ‘home’ for work. More on that later. I had no idea it would be a new moon when there. I made plans to go for a walk along the breakwall in the morning. It was then that I noticed it would be a very high tide around 8am. I decided I might take my fishing gear with me in case I find a good spot to return to after the walk. My first crossing of the bridge had me mesmerised. The tidal waters gushing through the small space into the lagoon were something to be seen. One local passing by called it NSW’s Horizontal Falls (there’s a well known one in WA, also on my list to visit of course). I stood there for ages watching the hectic wavy waters smooth out and then slope down dropping to squeeze through the small gap. Because it was glassy as it travelled under the bridge you could see fish hanging out just over a ledge on the lagoon side darting up to grab at bits of tucker as they came rushing by. And just 3 metres away the waves were crashing on the breakwall. After the walk I did return to fish. I thought I’d try both sides of the bridge as the tide turned. Well, it turns out the tide under the bridge changed about 1 hour after the actual tide is said to turn, but i didn’t know that till later when a lovely local lady filled me in on it all. I caught a few too-small-to-keep-fish, ran out of bait, and went and stood on the bridge with the above local lady and her 2 visiting friends waiting for the tide to turn. Geez it was a quick change! One moment it was still gushing through, then it eased off, and hundreds of little fish and a bull shark crept up over the ledge with their noses pointed to sea just waiting for the turn of the tide. Then all in a minute the fish started pointing in all directions and then off they all went over the other side and so did the water. The water stated gushing out the other way. The local lady said, too late unfortunately, that you can usually hear a little splash sound of the water from both directions giving each other a high five as they switch shifts. She didn’t use those words. That was my interpretation of it.

Now that was one of the experiences I’m taking about. I’m so glad I accidentally fell upon it. Now it’s going on my list like it was meant to be there already. Haha. On my travel guide to my kids and grandies.

I try to find experiences every day. I call them little treasures. I feel like my day is wasted if I can’t recall a new interesting (doesn’t always have to be a good one) experience. It’s funny how even bad experiences can make me feel good when I see them as experiencing something I haven’t before.

So, yeah, it’s the experiences.

Here have a photo of the tide coming into Harrington’s lagoon this morning just after sunrise.

/ˌʌnəˈkʌmp(ə)nɪd/

“Company… the fact or condition of being with another or others, especially in a way that provides friendship and enjoyment.”
“Companion… a person or animal with whom one spends a lot of time with or with whom one travels.”

My world right now: Unaccompanied

The number one worst thing about living “unaccompanied” is having no one to talk to.

When you hit goals, discover something unexpected, see a wondrous sight, hear or see something funny, have a hard day at work, copped verbal abuse from someone, or just can’t see your way out of a crappy situation, it helps to have someone to talk to about it all, right? There’s no one to laugh with, cry with, problem solve with. You especially want someone to talk to in those happy or sad moments that bring tears with them. When you don’t have that special someone to share the joy, moment, feeling, or struggle with, both happy and sad tears can suddenly turn dark and heavy like the backing clouds as a cold front moves in.

No one to laugh with. No one to cry with. No one to visit awe inducing views and share the feelings with. No one to share 2000 to 20000 words a day with.

I could turn to social media to share my happy moments, or go find a geocache just to speak it out in a way, or send a text to family or a friend who are far away and always ‘busy’ with their own lives and loved ones, or write a post like this on a blog, but it doesn’t cut it. The responses are delayed, sometimes shallow, and possibly even fake. When you are hurting inside sometimes you just want some reassurance that you will be okay and things will get better, or wise words to help you break the spell, or a distraction that makes you smile both inside and out. The realisation in those moments that you don’t have someone to share these with makes you feel very very alone.

There’s nothing. No one. Just you congratulating yourself. Just you unintentionally turning inward to self-pity. Just you left to your heartaching tears. And no one else ever knows. I wonder how many friends think I am living the dream, enjoying flying solo, because they don’t know what is like. Every evening, every night, every morning there’s no one there but me.

Listening to: Must Be Nice – Ruel