Although I was very upset about what happened with Guy’s sisters when I was thrown out / left his apartment, I thankfully started to lose weight at last and settled back in to the backpacker lifestyle with a very hard thump. Although I was upset that Guy had not stuck up for me more, I actually really missed him. After two weeks of being apart and chatting on the phone, he asked me to take some time off work and suggested that we both go to his house in Canberra to live for the remainder of my time in Australia. I jumped at the chance to see some more of Australia, and I had never lived with a man before where it was just the two of us, so I was pretty excited.
We lived quite happily in Canberra for two months, just the two of us. Canberra was not what people had said it would be. People had always told me it was boring, but I actually quite liked living there. Plus, not having the three wicked w(b)itches around was an added bonus.
In Canberra, I decided I would get fit and lose some weight. As anyone who has lost weight knows, that is easier said than done when you are happy. When you are miserable, heartbroken and / or stressed, it is relatively easy. I decided to go cycling every day while Guy was at work. After a week of cycling around in circles (and not losing any weight whatsoever), I asked Guy to recommend a more difficult ride. He told me about a hill that he cycled up on the weekends, which was ‘a tough climb but nothing too difficult.’
So, the next day, I set out on my bike, following his directions. At the main road, I crossed the lights and turned left into a small side street. I cycled up the road for about ten minutes until I came across what can only be described as a mountain. Now, Guy had told me there would be a semi steep hill to cycle up, but it would only take about thirty minutes and then I could glide down the other side. He can’t be serious! I thought to myself. First, there was a fence that I would have to carry my bike over. Second, there was no pavement; just what looked like a hiking trail which at times contained steps that had been carved into the rocks. How Guy expected me to cycle up these stairs I did not know. To add to it, the path was also lined with thorn bushes. How could I ride up this? I thought. I did consider I had gone the wrong way, but only for literally one second, and then the thought completely left my head. The instructions had been so clear and this was a hill after all, and Canberra didn’t have many hills at all.
As I lifted my bike over the fence, I thought to myself, this must be right . . .
An hour later, I still had not reached the top and hadn’t actually gotten on my bike after I had carried it over the fence. I was just pushing it up the hill / mountain. I had fallen over at least five times and had cuts and scratches all over my legs and arms from the bushes, but I wasn’t about to give up. Needless to say, however, I didn’t make it to the top.
After two hours, it was getting dark, and I was a broken woman. I must be so unfit, I thought, if Guy can do this in thirty minutes. I began to make my way back down the hill when I slipped and somehow managed to fall head over heels over the top of my bike, hitting my head on a rock on the other side. As far as I remember, I was knocked unconscious for a few seconds and woke up with the weight of the bike on one leg and a throbbing swollen ankle on the other.
As adrenaline took hold, I immediately began to cry and wished I could go home to the UK. I lay there completely still, not moving at all, just sobbing—not only about what had just happened but everything that had happened in the last few months and how alone I felt. I craved my family in the UK more than anything.
I’m not sure how long I lay there crying, doing nothing at all to help myself, before a hiker hurriedly approached me, screaming to me if I was ok. He lifted the bike off me and asked me over and over again if I was hurt and whether I could move. As I hadn’t seen anyone the whole time I had been climbing the hill, I was more than shocked to see him in front of me and at the time, I kind of felt like I was dreaming and didn’t really answer his questions. I think he was even more shocked than I was, but after a while he seemed to calm down when he saw that I was more upset than hurt. Once he realised I could walk, he carried my bike down the hill while helping to steady me at the same time. Once we reached the bottom, he asked me, slightly annoyed, what I was doing carrying my bike up a mountain.
I felt so stupid and didn’t really answer, instead thanking the man, through continued sobbing tears, over and over again for saving my life. Probably a bit melodramatic, but that was honestly how I felt at the time. I finally managed to convince the man I would be ok and hobbled the rest of the way home, dragging the bike alongside me.
I arrived home to find Guy absolutely frantic. ‘Where have you been? It is dinner time and I’m hungry,’ he said.
Then he saw me, and I knew he immediately felt bad that he hadn’t actually been worried about me, just his stomach.
After observing the state of me, he anxiously asked “Are you ok? You look like you have been to war.’
I told him where I had been, and he looked at me in dismay. We went through the directions again and again and agreed that I had gone the right way. I knew exactly what he was thinking; fat, unfit, clumsy British chick.
That weekend, after my ankle had healed, he offered to ride up the hill with me. We crossed the lights at the main road and turned left into the small side street. We then turned left again onto a very busy main road with a cycle lane. I recall thinking, where is he taking me? As we cycled up a semi steep hill, it dawned on me that this was the hill he had meant.
As we got to the top, he turned—I think half expecting me not to be there—and said, ‘See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?’
I replied, very quietly, with ‘It’s easier the second time round.’
A few weeks later, he asked me if I wanted to go for a long walk up a mountain where we could see amazing views of Canberra for miles. We packed up drinks and food, as it would be a long walk. As we crossed the lights at the main road and turned left, we headed straight for the ‘hill’ I had climbed. I really did not want to climb it again, but how could I say anything? It was far too late to bring it up then. At least I didn’t have to carry the bike this time. I never did explain to him what had happened; I knew he would blame me. To this day, he still thinks I’m a fat, unfit, clumsy British chick. He is so annoying. It was his fault; his directions were wrong!
After Canberra, and to be completely honest, after lying on the top of a mountain sobbing over my home, I decided to return to the UK alone to complete a second University course. The next eighteen months were spent having a long distance relationship with Guy, which I know people say are notoriously hard but, to be perfectly truthful, I found relatively easy. I enjoyed having time to myself and feeling free. Now I know that’s just the kind of person I am, but at the time, I just thought that was how everyone felt. I guess that should have been a warning sign to me, but at the time, I just assumed I was a bit more heartless than most people. ‘Happiness is not the absence of problems; it’s the ability to deal with them.’ — Unknown.