When I stand in Sydney

This post is based on the assumption I will reach Sydney; If I don't believe I will, I probably won't. As William Ford said, "Whether you think you can, or think you can't, you are right."

For most people, arriving in Sydney marks the end of a long journey: a chance to stretch the legs after 22 hours crammed onto a plane.

When I arrive in Sydney it will be an entirely different story. It will mark the fulfilment of my dream, and the conclusion of my entire cycling venture. I'll have been on the road for over a year, heading ever in the direction of this one metropolis. Three continents will have passed under my wheels. And I can't help but wonder: Will I be the same person as I am today?

We are all a product of our experiences, defined and shaped by what we've done, who we've met, where we've been, and the lessons learnt along the way. For me, in one short year, I will have passed through many new and different countries, indulging first hand in fresh and varied cultures, meeting people from all walks of life. My privileged eyes will have witnessed wonders most people will unfortunately never get a chance to view. Surely such experiences will have moulded me into a more worldly, cultured person. Many people has described the cycle to me as ‘life-changing’, and they're probably right.

But, while I will no doubt have learnt more about the world itself, ever questioning what I'm seeing with the curious eyes of a child, I'll also have learnt important things about myself; what I’m capable of, what I like, what motivates me, and so on. With plenty of thinking time in the saddle for introspection, and being challenged with contentious global matters, from poverty to the environment, I expect to ascertain where I stand and reach my own conclusions and solutions to such questions.

Sydney

I wonder how I will feel as I stand there? Of the many emotions I’ll be feeling, I expect a strong sense of achievement; what feels so absurdly and madly insurmountable, has been achieved. The seemingly impossible rendered possible.  I’ll be delighted and proud to have overcome the challenges and succeeded.

However, I don’t anticipate all the emotions necessarily being so positive. I can picture myself, getting off the bike one final time, standing in the beautiful, serene harbour, and gazing at the wildly unique opera house, and despite the achievement, it feels a little anti-climatic. It's cliché I know, but the months of riding leading up to that moment will not have been about the destination. Sydney will merely be the next in a long list of new places. I have fixated on it for so long, and it is simultaneously both so significant, and insignificant, in my world cycle journey, but I doubt it will ever live up to the pedestal it has been placed upon.

Combined with being an anti-climax, the success of the cycle may also feel like a loss of purpose. Since my second year of University, way back when I first heard about these international country-crossing adventurers on bikes, the seed was planted, and since then, the tour has occupied an ever-constant presence on my mind. It's been my dream, my target, my biggest objective. It is such a large, undertaking that I've not had much opportunity to look beyond it. Questions as to what I'll do next are met with confusion. My focus has intently been on the how-to’s of actually reaching that point.

But one day, I'll arrive at that point. I’ll have hit the ocean, and I’m about as far from home as I could be, the road appearing to have reached its end, and I’m finally facing that question; what next? I don’t know, and for now I’ll ignore that question. I’ll gaze at the opera house and to the lights across the harbour a while longer, content in the fact I got here. I made it.  I’ll revel in that achievement, savouring the effort in every pedal stroke that carried me, and reminisce about the experiences and the people that marked the road. I will remember the person I was a year ago, back when everything was merely a dream. And finally, I'll turn to the blank future,  and wonder, clueless as to what it holds in store. The dreaming can start once again.

Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometime it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you – it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart and on your body. You take something with you… Hopefully you leave something good behind.” Anthony Bourdain.

I'm leaving at 10am on Sunday 24th May from Herne Bay Pier - Feel free to come along!

 

2 Replies to “When I stand in Sydney”

  1. Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometime it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you – I agree haha It changed you much now

  2. I’m from Herne Bay too and my son is in Sydney…..I however and going to fly for all those hours to see him at the end of March! I wish you very good luck! Karen

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