Maiden (Bon) Voyage

Apparently its one of the top twenty things a person will never forget in their life - the first time they drove solo.

To cut a long story short I haven't been able to get hold of a vehicle my "licence class" could drive till yesterday, that's why I have been putting off my Maiden Voyage. But special thanks to Claire - my almost housemate and definitely friend, I have a little Mitzy till Tuesday night.

Apart from the fact that I left the hand breaks on till about 2 blocks down the road (I have to say its a pretty shit car so it was moving and all I thought was that the wheels felt like they were falling off) it was smooth as into Civic. And apart from failing to parallel park twice it wasn't really a big deal getting the shopping done - something I would have had to do on the bus or the bike before, and taken 3 times as long!!

I sat there in the car not having to ask the person next to me where they'd like to go, thinking, gosh, this is soooo amazing! Me and the world and off we go. Since I was in the area I thought I'd drop into my old neighbourhoods in the inner north for the last time.

So the Maiden Voyage was also a bit of a Bon Voyage. I knew these streets back to front, each tree and the colour they'd turn into each time this year. The same pot plants and deck chairs on people's patios, same cars parked outside, same art works on the same letterboxes.

I drove into MacArthur Place where I had my first flat in Canberra when I started Masters at ANU (interviewed over the phone, they were amused at the accent). Where I learnt the words "chunder" and "booner". Where I chewed Swedish tobacco and had that random-as one night stand. Where I got my kiwi accent beaten out of me and where I learnt how to make soychinococktail. And where I learnt to appreicate Fat Pizza and The Chaser's War on Everything, and CNNNN. And listened to George and The Waifs for the first time. The backyard's been dug up and the crop-circles we made is long gone; but the vege patch at the top of the road is still going strong. Same old lady came out and waved.

It still sends chills down my spine thinkng of those days biking through O'Connor on my $40 bike in the dry bleak cold with my lips bleeding and those giant parrots scooping down at me. Those really lost times where I wish I wasn't here alone in this ghostly flat and brown town. Biking around and around to houses in the dead heat of February begging for a room to rent, and Sunday mornings wishing I hadn't had that last mojito at Trinity. Pollies striding pass down the corridor all with the same expression when they see an Asian constituent, and dropping off releases at the Press Gallery on Budget night; running up Mt Ainsley out of breath around giant Kangaroos and the jet planes overhead at the War Memorial. Or the kid who fell into the Pool of Reflection at the War Memorial!!! Same spot where Templeton turned up with a red rose one Valentines day next to the Menin Gate Lions. Now I could see Shiner and Milly sitting there purring instead: Eyes closed, whiskers drawn back, contented in the sun; Girl Guides, not soldiers, marching by.

Canberra Canbeera - how did I ever think leaving would be so hard?