She got married and I shared a roadtrip.

I watched one of my best friends marry a guy is a smart vest on the weekend. Tessa and I grew up together, fighting over putt putt golf sticks, fishing and pulling each other’s hair.

She never looked so beautiful as when she walked towards the bloke she’s spent the last 5.5 years with. I cried like an old man on the gin to see her happiness and excitement. My school pals and I giggled over shed party tales.We’ve come a long way from the luscious hills around Kyogle.

Then, her brother, another mate and a guy who moves around a guitar with more smoothness than a prestige car salesgirl, sang this to them.

Honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand
And I come here to talk
I hope you understand

That Green Eyes
Yeah the spotlight
Shines upon you

And how could
Anybody
Deny you

I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter
Now I’ve met you

Honey you should know
That I could never go on
Without you

Green Eyes

Honey you are the sea
Upon which I float
And I came here to talk
I think you should know

That Green Eyes
You’re the one that I wanted to find
And anyone who tried to deny you,
Must be out of their minds

‘Cause I came here with a load
And it feels so much lighter since I met you

Honey you should know,
That I could never go on
Without you

Green Eyes.. Green Eyes..
Ohohoh…

Honey you are a rock
Upon which I stand.

It was pretty beautiful. Groomie told his new wife that he’d found what he was looking for. I even managed to hog the limelight for a few moments with a speech that kindly refrained from mentioning the more embarrassing moments of Tessa’s youth. Then they cut the cake. The bride did not throw the bouquet, leaving the guests with at least one less injury to contend with. And we danced, and drank red wine. It was marvellous.

The experience got me thinking about love and why we choose to share our lives with others. I’ve been a love cynic for a few years now, riding solo, desperately clinging to my independence and swatting men away like an opal miner does a fly. That’s not completely true, but we’ll go with the black and white version of events of the past few years. Bottom line, I’ve spent a fair few hours alone on many different buses.

The single life treats me well. Friends are more accessible and weekend stories deliciously juicy (please note this does not refer to promiscuity, but rather a liberated view of sleeping arrangements). I figured out a way to lie with pillows surrounding my body so it feels exactly like someone is cuddling me. Exactly the same. No that’s a lie, too, but I stopped worrying about being alone. The freedom is intoxicating and the lifestyle can be more fun than hosing someone who just donned their best dress for the races.

And the single life makes great blog fodder. But I feel changes are afoot.

Last weekend when I checked the Greyhound website I imagined myself nestled up with my iPod gnawing through a bag of carrots and sipping a Corona. I knew I would sleep well and arrive refreshed in Brisbane. Undoubtedly a story about drunk passengers would come up in the wedding banter later on in the weekend. Ultimately it would be an adventure.

Or would it?

Suddenly, an 11-hour bus trip didn’t seem much of an adventure or a risk anymore. I’m more at home on a public transport than on my couch, which can be awkward for other passengers.

I decided the real adventure would be to ask someone to come along, to push an entirely different comfort zone.

My co-pilot on the 20-hour return trip was someone I’d met just a few weeks ago. I hoped he would be good company, that he wouldn’t mind driving so long in the senseless heat without air conditioning in my banged up old car. And I really prayed that he’d do some of the driving.

We stopped for a dip in the Condamine river, fully clothed in an attempt to stave off the heat. We held hands in the car. I was happy. The trip passed far too quickly.

The road trip made my bus ride look like a day watching the campdraft compared to a night of barefoot dancing with friends.

Let’s see where this new adventure goes. I hope it will be cheeky and that my broad grin continues to look so foolish.

11 thoughts on “She got married and I shared a roadtrip.

  1. So disappointing Pen! We kept scrolling down to see a picture of your travel companion but no, more scenery!! :p

  2. “the single life makes great blog fodder” B and I were commenting today that it was a long time since the last blog and that maybe your travel companion was being a distraction. I think I’ve found a pic of your t c but could be wrong, otherwise I agree with Lucy and Amanda. Can’t place the last photo – doesn’t look like Charleville!. Keep having fun!

  3. Great to see you having something to say on the great forum of life for a country girl. Lovely pictures of Tessa and Ann and the scenery gives a sense of the journey.Weddings have a very special feel too. However I do agree with Amanda and Lucy’s sentiments though!

  4. Pen your father says he has a good photo of the TC at a certain race meeting. He reckons he is going to put it on my facebook page but I don’t think he would know how to do it – but he could be be pulling your leg- maybe ?

  5. Glad you had a good weekend and the road trip didn’t break the friendship. I believe the TC has a surname matching Harry the wizard from Hogwarts, and he had a comment on your Facebook page about the road trip. Am I correct?

  6. Gr8 road trip story sis kept me reading furiously, would of loved to of heard that song from your pozee. Oh yeah I think your single status may be fading good luck on future travels wherever they may roam.

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