Because Malaysiair gave me free airport accomodation and the fact that on both of my international flights I had to stay in the airport for quite a long time I went to look for it. Well, the hotel was a real luxury but still I would prefer something less fancy (I actually did feel quite awkard when having my free meal in the hotel restaurant, the people were way too polite, you know). Anyway, on the flight out of Taiwan 70 days ago I took the wrong train and ended up in the midst of Kuala Lumpur with only an hour and a half left till my connecting flight; this time, with my new and sharpened navigation skill, I was able to successfully track down the signs and locate the hotel shuttle bus with only a minor episode of queuing up in the hotel lobby for more than an hour and only to be told later that I was in the wrong place.
On the bus while I was explaining to the good-humoured bus driver the reason why he was being called back after he had left the airport 2 minutes ago and was already on the highway sprinting towards the hotel and all of a sudden I noticed the Aussie accent in my words and I realized I was in Oz no more. Held between my hands were the postcards I bought while I was in Darwin; on the way to the Greyhound station she was looking at one of them for quite a while and it was also the very one that met my eyes when I lowered my vision after I found out that I was away from the place that was my home for the last 69 days. That postcard saw both of us that night, but now all that I can see was it solo. I wondered when can I see her again in real life. Then I experienced a series of flashbacks and I saw the peoples I met on the road and the places I've been to and I felt, once more and not surprisingly, terribly alone, but, unexpectedly, it wasn't a Greek tragady like it used to be. What has to come will come, what is meant to be will be.
While I was in Sydney Grace told me that he saw a coffee table book on Iceland with a 5-dollars price tag on it in one of the charity shops! He asked me if he should get it for me before I went back to Adelaide, but then changed his mind because "nobody loves Iceland as much as you do".
He, knowing or unknowingly, pointed out the key element and the greatest thing about travelling which didn't even cross my mind until that moment. All that I cared about before was the mental growth, the learning curve, but that brief conversation over the phone revealed before me the truth and I realized that it was all about love, the love for another country and her people. Before I went to Spain and Iceland I wasn't really interested in them and as for Australia, a couple of years back I was actually wondering who the hell would want to go there. Yet every single time I fell hard for them sheilas. I feel good just by the sight of their names and the sound of their accents and everything related to them. Unless something had gone terribly wrong, would you hurt your loved ones?
On the bus while I was explaining to the good-humoured bus driver the reason why he was being called back after he had left the airport 2 minutes ago and was already on the highway sprinting towards the hotel and all of a sudden I noticed the Aussie accent in my words and I realized I was in Oz no more. Held between my hands were the postcards I bought while I was in Darwin; on the way to the Greyhound station she was looking at one of them for quite a while and it was also the very one that met my eyes when I lowered my vision after I found out that I was away from the place that was my home for the last 69 days. That postcard saw both of us that night, but now all that I can see was it solo. I wondered when can I see her again in real life. Then I experienced a series of flashbacks and I saw the peoples I met on the road and the places I've been to and I felt, once more and not surprisingly, terribly alone, but, unexpectedly, it wasn't a Greek tragady like it used to be. What has to come will come, what is meant to be will be.
While I was in Sydney Grace told me that he saw a coffee table book on Iceland with a 5-dollars price tag on it in one of the charity shops! He asked me if he should get it for me before I went back to Adelaide, but then changed his mind because "nobody loves Iceland as much as you do".
He, knowing or unknowingly, pointed out the key element and the greatest thing about travelling which didn't even cross my mind until that moment. All that I cared about before was the mental growth, the learning curve, but that brief conversation over the phone revealed before me the truth and I realized that it was all about love, the love for another country and her people. Before I went to Spain and Iceland I wasn't really interested in them and as for Australia, a couple of years back I was actually wondering who the hell would want to go there. Yet every single time I fell hard for them sheilas. I feel good just by the sight of their names and the sound of their accents and everything related to them. Unless something had gone terribly wrong, would you hurt your loved ones?
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