I’m not going to tell you every day, it would be repetitive and not necessarily interesting. The Tuesday after Rottnest Island, I went to Scarborough beach with my Swiss roomate, before her final departure on Wednesday. Nice time for a girl talk…
A small Tinder date and a last evening at the hostel before Sunday, and the day was already coming to an end.
On Wednesday, up early, full of good resolutions and nourished with efficiency, I went first thing in the morning to open my bank account and get an Australian sim card.
That’s it, I’m ready to work! After making pancakes for the friends who stayed at the hostel, it’s time for me to leave in my Airbnb… I make a small bag for the occasion, I leave the rest at the hostel …
1 hour by bus, and here I am. Small house a little dated suburban, but it feels good and John the owner is shy but adorable.
I’m already going to the beach for a little while, before I change and go for a drink with my date from the day before.
The days follow each other, I get up, I go to the beach, I update my CV in front of the sea, I write my blog, I read, I relax. The first days are sweet, a nice date on Thursday night, everything is for the best ….
Every day I walk 45 minutes to Scarborough and 45 minutes back. I think, I listen to music, I text you. I enjoy my solitude, my room, the terrace.
On Friday, I’m meeting some students who offer hot dogs on the beach. I spend a little time with them… I quickly understand that they are discounters for a local church. Anyway, I’m having a good time, working on my English.
In the evening, I have dinner with my landlord, we talk well. It’s interesting to talk with an Australian, you learn a lot of things. I would write a post about all the weird sports in Australia… Because there’s a lot of them!
But here it is, Saturday, up at dawn, hanging on to an uncertain evening, my loneliness weighs on me more than usual. The day is pleasant, that’s for sure. I swim, I read on the beach, I enjoy. I even eat a little ice cream.
However, my heart feels like being in company, friendly or in love, but I am a little bit lonely at the moment. This is normal, and it will probably happen to me much more often than I would like, and I will have to get used to it.
But here’s the thing, I miss the inn, I miss talking and laughing and talking. Clinging to an evening that won’t come, waiting for a text message that will stay away, I stay a bit on the lively beach of Scarborough. I enjoy the sunset. It’s beautiful, it’s soothing, and yet my mind is overwhelmed by a spleen from elsewhere.
I wouldn’t have done anything with my Friday night or Saturday night, it’s not a drama but it reminds me that my life here is not yet done… I’m missing the Brazilian carnival, the crowds that are pouring in.
I’m trying to pull myself together. I try to get a drink, but the wind is blowing, I’m cold in wet tank tops and shorts. I’m almost shivering.
It’s time to go home, I’m cold, I’m pensive. It’s a long way, I walk fast to keep my body warm, it’s finally working. I get home, my landlord is watching a movie, with his glass of white wine. He tries to start a conversation, I don’t feel like it, he understands it quickly enough.
I go to take a shower. Second Saturday night in Australia, 9pm in bed. Weeks go by, and it’s not the same…
Last beautiful night’s sleep, far from the hubbub of the inn, more than 9 hours of sleep, I do not even enjoy a sleepless night. Wake up at 7:30 am, I go for a walk along the sea. The beaches are already taken by storm. The weather is beautiful, families and couples are out. I feel like I’m the only one …
I pass a surfing competition, I settle down a few hundred yards away. I enjoy a morning swim, it’s nice and cool. And … I see a stingray again ! I guess I’m lucky after all. And there it is, I come back to get my things from the Airbnb.
A few hours of beach again this afternoon and I could go back to the little backpackers community. I’m nostalgic to leave a place so close to the sea, but very happy to find a social life again…