Reflections on Love and Loneliness – Cycling Across Australia

A few months ago, I cycled across Australia, from Melbourne to Darwin.

Most people thought I was crazy. 

Kiwis were predicting my death somewhere in the desert.

Australians were rolling big eyes and saying how much money they should be paid to start such journey. 

The very few people who’ve been really supportive are the ones who have no clue about Australia’s size, dimensions, depth, risks, challenges. 

Anyway, I went through. And I would like to give back, as I received a lot. 

That journey has been so fulfilling, and everything has been so dense in my mind since then, that I had no clue from which side of the spectrum I should start story telling. 

Sweet and Sublime – The Grey Nomads

It’s a crazy country. And what people call emptiness is just a modern blindness. There is a lot out there. A lot to see with the eyes closed, a lot surrounding me when I sleep. It’s full on, day and night. 

Outside of the interesting nature, from Alice springs to Darwin, I’ve experienced a sweet and sublime presence, they grey nomads. 

I left Alice springs almost in tears. 1500km or so left to Darwin, in a straight line. I had to do it, I had to finish. But I would have happily stayed in Alice for a bit. Just to cheat my dear boredom. But from there, I felt a presence much more than before. Lines of caravans, honking cute little vans and wavy hands out of any type of windows. 

They gave me a lot. And they offered me a sense and a definition of loneliness as well. Or maybe mainly a way to interpret it, to live it.

Loneliness and Contact

They were on the side of the road way before the sun goes down. Groups of people, solo travellers, families, couples. They encouraged me, they supported me. They saw in my youngness the kids they’ve left behind somewhere, or grandkids. Or the one they never had.

That was perfect for me as well, because I hadn’t seen my family for more than four years. And while I’m pretty good at dealing with loneliness, it’s always good to connect with someone who could be my grandma or grandpa. A spare family I always find somehow, somewhere, on the road. 

And it has always been a very sane contact. I knew where to find them. That means I knew where to find human presence. And to be honest, I knew they would come to me ask me questions, make sure I have everything I need and enough to cover the following day in the wilderness. 

Human Presence and Choice

The constant but discreet presence of strangers offered me a choice, being on my own or not. And sometimes,, after a quick chat, we were just spending our evening on the two opposite side of the car park. Which is purely what I could have been looking for. Having people around. Feeling human beings around. And that was enough. Not more, but not less. Every day was a deal with my changing mood. So when the time to choose comes, I look at the map and figure it out. 

One evening, I ended up with a big group of them. One by one cheering me, asking me traditional questions. And we gathered around the fire in the evening that day. I listened more than I talked that night. I listened to people’s stories. And I was amazed how opposite mine could have been. 
In many ways, but the loneliness aspect has probably been the most interesting one. 

There, alone in the outback, I was in a situation I chose. I was swimming in happiness by my presence there, by the only fact that I was following my idea, my project. 

Except that in New Zealand I met an amazing girl, which was suffering from my decision, which she found crazy as well, crossing Australia on a bike. Those chaps were just coming out of a solo traveller gathering. They were still in a sort of honeymoon phase, knowing each other, discovering each other. 

People were almost whispering on a fire corner. And I loved all of their stories. Some have been single all life long. Some have lost their half a few years ago. Some have no kids or family left. 

That car park that I reached this evening, was the result of personal choices. It was a deep need of connection with myself. A deep need of a long bike stretch, of pure and harsh nature. A need of loneliness, in its most sacred definition. 
And for that, I’ve left someone behind. Someone I love and I’ll see soonish. But despite knowing her, I’ve chosen to be alone, even if she has to suffer of my non-presence. 
And all around me, those awesome humans were gathering to betray that feeling of loneliness. That exact same one I was searching for, all around me were sitting people in a hunt for more human presence. 

Reaching a Destination

That brings a lot of questions up to the surface. How can you choose to be alone when you have someone you feel entire and happy with? But how can you give up any of your dream? Where is the middle way? 

But it’s all about the questions, and barely any answers. I’m here, in an unnamed place, out of phone signal. I wish she could know how much she means to me, especially tonight, when I’m the only one around having a dear love one with who feelings are reciprocal. 

I politely thank all of them and went to my narrow single person tent, falling asleep among a lot of thoughts and feelings. Why can I sacrifice any second far from her when a part of the world is craving for a slice of love? 

Maybe because cycling around the world is a deep and exciting addiction. But perhaps we can compose to make everyone happy. 
Thanks to all of those whispers, cause we’re are already working on it. 

And the following day, I did my daily duty, getting closer to darwin and therefore the end of my Australian journey. A journey I have loved every single second of, in struggle and sadness as much as in happiness and deep meditation.

It costs a lot sometimes to reach the end of a personal line, but it’s all about trying to come back as a better person, more than reaching any destination.