13:15 - Jan. 14, 2004
I Have Seen
I remember how it felt to stand on the Sydney Harbour Bridge, looking over the city in it's night-lights glory, the Opera House looking like a spaceship and the skyscrapers looming above us. It was cold and we were wearing the obligatory BridgeClimb jumpsuits, hats, fleece etc. They told us of the man who fell off while building the bridge, and how he survived by ditching his tool belt as he fell, and dropping in straight like a pin. The soles of his workboots were embedded in the soles of his feet from the impact, but he lived to tell the tale.
I can still recall how it felt to walk out of the diner at Furnace Creek Lodge in Death Valley into the blazing heat, even in the evening it was over 100 degrees and the swimming in the mineral water pool was like the world's biggest bath. At night we took the roof down on the car and drove in the darkness to Gold Canyon trail and watched shooting stars. I was in love with everything then, the stars, the sky, the darkness, the sense of danger from driving too fast in the night, 110mph over the dips to make our stomachs jump.
And I can't forget that night we arrived at a hotel in Rhodes, the one so awful with fag burns in the sheets, and a tray on the floor and a hose coming out of the wall for a shower, and how I cried. And how we moved to a nicer hotel the next day and at night we drank Jack Daniels in a rock & roll bar which played Tom Petty.
One day we will lie with the sand underneath us and the sea lapping our feet. We will ride horses on the sand. We will throw rocks as far as we can into the sea. We will fall asleep under the shade of an exotic tree. We will go to Vietnam, to Japan, to Barcelona, to Thailand and to places I've never even heard of yet.
