“My heart aches as we drive the route back to civilization, to Bundaberg airport. A kangaroo jumps in front of the car, Kevin swerves and avoids it. This seems to be an unsuccessful effort to keep us from leaving.
In a few weeks this will all be a lovely memory, like fond memories of an old flame. I will flip through pictures to remember the grand adventures … paddling through the swamps, hiking to the waterfalls, dragon boating in the bay with the locals, four wheel driving in the national parks, running along the red sandy beach, and watching wildlife: dingo pups playing in the woods, emus trying to avoid being spotted, wallabies and kangaroos grazing in the grass, cicadas and flying praying mantis hiding in the stairwell, crabs sprinting on the beach, goannas lurking in the woods and kookaburras chuckling in the trees… but for now, I feel a sadness.
I know to distract myself I must focus on my new love: Busselton in Western Australia. It will lack the remoteness, the grittiness of the town of 1770, the mailboxes made from old microwaves, the locals that speak a version of Australian that I really can’t understand. But Busselton will have the conveniences of civilization, things to do on a hot or rainy day. New beaches, the big city of Perth, more national parks, paved bike paths, a mile long pier with a jetty… adventures I haven’t even thought about.
But still … I find myself singing the blues. I really do love 1770 and I will deeply miss this place.”