Clandestine

Chapter 21 - Revelations

“Fat wife?” our host questioned.

“I beg your pardon!” Eleanor screeched in horror.

I nearly spat out my orange juice.

“He’s asking you what kind of coffee you would like, dear,” I explained. “A flat white is on offer,” I clarified.

Eleanor laughed lustily. Every day we spent together her laugh brought me back 50 years to a library in Coatbridge.

“What the devil is a flat white?” Eleanor asked, confused.

“It’s a frothy milky excuse for coffee that they serve here in Australia,” I said. “And if you hadn’t been drinking just English Breakfast tea since we landed in Melbourne you would have an appreciation for the Australia coffee culture,” I added.

“What did she think I said?” said the innkeeper.

“She thought you were insinuating to me that my companion was carrying too much weight to be healthy,” I said.

“Oh, it wasn’t the fact that you called me fat that bothered me,” said Eleanor, “but do you think I would marry a man that wears a pink Hawaiian shirt tucked into pressed khakis?” Eleanor answered. She always had the last word.

One never knows if two people are compatible but I recommend an east-to-west trip across Australia if a couple is interested in making a determination. Once we had discovered the artistic edge of Melbourne, the breathtaking beauty of Sydney, and the sheer puzzle that is the capital city of Canberra, we decided to head west. Our first stop was the European sensibility of Adelaide before we decided that we were too close to Ayers Rock not to journey into the dead centre of the country … the Outback. We flew to Alice Springs, which is as close to the big rock as you can get while remaining connected to civilization, and then joined a long tour bus ride to get to the red centre of the continent.

Eleanor was no fat wife. She took on a 10km walk around the enormous Ayers Rock with a gusto that belied her 65 years. The outback is shockingly hot and, as if to impress visitors, the deadly heat decides to show off daily for its guests. Surely, no human could live in this inhospitable terrain. Certainly no pasty-legged European would make it through a week without provisions, yet there are indigenous communities that have called the outback home for millennia. The oldest continuous culture in human history, the indigenous peoples of Australia think modern homosapiens are all quite insane. They seem to hold no particular hostility against their oppressors, and attempts by modern Australian governments to reconcile seem to have fallen on deaf ears. I believe they assume that one day we will all just go back home and leave the hills, the land, the water, the sun, and the sky to their enjoyment. They look upon Europeans as a curiosity, a group with foolish values that have all kinds of strange beliefs, those that would prefer to politicize the world rather than enjoy its beauty. Here! Here!

Our journey across the continent continued. Today, before Eleanor was jolted into consciousness by a coffee order, we had woken up in a quaint little bed and breakfast in Perth, the western edge of Australia and the last stop on our journey across the country. Perth could be described as the loneliest place on the planet. It is a five-hour flight to Sydney in the east and if you don’t want to go in that direction only Africa looms to the west. Of course, I love it; you feel that if someone was coming after you in Perth there would be little reason to expedite your getaway.

Today we decided to explore the natural beauty of Rottnest Island, an hour’s ferry ride from Perth. It would be another day of walking, laughing, and holding hands. You couldn’t help but laugh when you were with Eleanor. She never once succumbed to the decorum of any moment, and even when I tried to get sentimental and melancholy she would interject with a tension-breaking comment. We stayed in the moment for our entire trip, sharing private thoughts but few confessions…until today.