Narooma, Australia
The morning dawned crisp and I hopped on to Zoom to join our weekly happy hour back in the states. My hopes were higher for today, and they were exceeded.
The photo above … I pointed the rental Peugeot north out of Eden with a coastal route planned. After ducking into a few charming places, I saw a sign for a tourist route and thought, I’m a tourist … a few moments later I spotted a little park up on the cliffs, overlooking a beach.
I parked and walked to the edge, proceeding to make very mediocre photos. It was windy and, every now and then I thought I heard a musical note or three. Too long on the road, I thought. I went back to making mediocre photos, creeping around the edge of the cliff to look out to the sea more than the beach.
The notes got more consistent, then I saw the white van. And in the passenger seat, a gentleman playing flute.
There was some comfort in the music, there was more in knowing I wasn’t hallucinating.
I listened for a few moments then approached, chatting for a moment before asking if I could make a photo. It’s one of those daunting things photojournalists must do, to approach strangers and ask for assistance. Our entire careers are based on the generosity of others.
“Let’s do this.” An immediate, unhesitating response.
I wish the photo rose to the quality of the memory. Casey Greene gave me another one of those connections to cherish. He goes up there as often as he can to practice, finding inspiration in the view. He was playing along with some music on his phone, trying to work out a Charlie Parker piece.
It was a brief encounter on my 27th day on the road. A few notes in the wind, fleeting. A musician who was warm and welcoming. But it was a reminder of what I had looked forward to.
It wasn’t to check off the sights, the ability to say I’d seen the Sydney Opera House and watched a Women’s World Cup match. It was to spend a little time with people who were living lives like my own, sharing a little grace with a wanderer.
The rest of the drive was wonderful. Two lanes of macadam that rose from the coast up into the hilled forests. Villages with oyster farmers and old Bedford trucks.
I arrived in Sydney late, checking back into the hotel I’d started the trip at. With rain looming, I headed towards an area I thought I could grab a late bite to eat. I peaked into a few windows that looked too fancy, then came around a dark corner and heard a voice call out.
There, on a street in Sydney, a woman I’d worked alongside in Melbourne. Shireen Ahmed from the CBC was out with a cousin and I was lucky enough to join them for dinner.
To drive some 500+ kilometers on the wrong side of the Princes Highway, longing a bit for home and finding friendly souls along the way … serendipity is wonderful.
Eden, Australia
Eden, Australia
Eden, Australia
Eden, Australia
Merimbula, Australia
Merimbula, Australia
Cobargo, Australia
Tilba, Australia
Sydney, Australia
