COME THE DAY by David

For a few seconds I get caught unawares in a right turn lane; as I quickly indicate, check mirrors and safely merge left into a straight ahead lane, it happens yet again. Will and I try really, really hard in our driving and I have done nothing wrong but now there is a policeman pointing an orange baton at me. As I pull over Ros, next to me laments ‘well, this will cap off the day, nicely…’ I step out and am ‘invited’ into a police car… ‘I’m from Australia and I’m sorry but I do not know what you’re talking about… I don’t know what ‘straff’ means. No, really I don’t even though you repeat the word a lot… That’s a big book of rules you have there but I cannot read a word of it…What do you want 425Hry for? I’ve done nothing wrong…Sorry I don‘t know what you keep saying - I can only speak English…” And so this pantomime, this charade, this farce goes on for some time, as I sit next to this increasingly frustrated Ukrainian policeman.

He finally decides I need to get straightened out by the most senior policeman at the checkpoint and takes me to a group of three other policemen and a fourth person in plain clothes, a hanger-on? He explains the problem, I presume. The senior policeman checks my passport, checks my visa, I confirm I’m Australian; I tell him, by sign language, that I have driven to this point from Australia. He tries to speak a few words in English but fails beyond ‘you speak English‘? He looks exasperated, uncertain, probably tossing around whether to throw the book at me, or let me go. Finally after a long awkward pause, he hands me back my passport. As I get back into our car Ros says lets get out of here before he changes his mind… Off I drive towards the Slovak border. Later, that evening, I check my diary and count the ticks against the ex-Soviet states - today’s police stop was number 23 for this group of now independent countries. Rest of the world: three!

It’s only the second driving day since picking up Ros and Hamish up at Kiev airport, our second last day in Ukraine. Unfortunately we had had our usual trouble by getting lost the previous evening while driving into the UNESCO listed gem of a city, L’viv, and Will had had to engage a taxi to lead us to our hotel. Even more unfortunately, we had followed this the next morning by again getting lost getting out. While these events were now nothing out of the ordinary for Will and I, the uncertainty and spontaneous, unexpected antics used to sort out our navigation problems does not go down well with Ros, who stresses, very fresh from the order, the routine, the ease of Australia, of driving around Melbourne…No wonder.

As we enter the Ukraine border confines, there is a huge colourful line of trucks on the Slovak side, waiting to enter Ukraine. Hamish is told by Ros and I, and multiple times by Will to annoy him, to put his camera away - now is certainly not the time to be seen flashing a camera. Without trouble we pass easily through both Ukraine and Slovakia border controls. At one point however a Slovak Customs officer, unable to speak English, asks a fellow motorist, obviously English speaking, and also going through the border like us, to ask us the usual questions about drugs, guns, knives etc. This he does, speaking directly to us in good English, and in an appropriately stern voice. He then walks back to his own car to resumes his own border processing! Another customs officer, surprisingly, asks us how much fuel we have on board and is highly amused at being told we have 200 litres (there is a limit, apparently, which we exceed….). As I quickly ponder how to get rid of some illegal fuel, it appears the rule is to be ignored. As he waves us on he half smiles and says ‘Welcome to Slovakia‘. We enter the EU! I feel a little like crying, but don’t. I know I feel happy and elated, so relieved…I do feel welcome.

In Slovakia, the police checkpoints have suddenly evaporated. Gone. Disappeared. I am surprisingly uplifted that the heavy police presence is finally done with, and the uncertainty of where each police stop may lead to is now largely behind us. The change is extraordinary after each driving day for over a month being overshadowed by an excessive police presence and, at times, threatening intrusion.

Next day we drive through the Slovakia/Austria border without being halted. Without stopping! I ask the others can we really be in Austria, almost without knowing it? Without showing our papers? Without questions? Without being searched? The answer is yes and now, it seems there are no borders, in effect, to come, as we drive through continental Europe. Amazing! The tension, the uncertainty, the questions and chaos are over.

After making steady progress through parts of Austria, Germany, Switzerland and France, sometimes through neat snow covered rolling hills, and staying for a few great, indulgent days in Paris on the Champs Elysees, (where parking the car costs over four times as much as a hotel was in Indonesia!) we have now reached London. This, after five and a half months of travelling since driving out of our garage in Melbourne, and almost 35,000km on the road. Extraordinary! While here Ros and I look forward to seeing the boys’ cousin, Sally-Ann, and catching up with friends from home. In addition I want to buy a pint or two for a young Australian, Dave now living in London, who, with his brother Chris, drove London to Sydney last year and very generously helped me with much valuable information before and during our journey. I have never met Dave.

While we are eagerly anticipating these special occasions, and other good times in the UK, for Will and I in particular returning home now becomes an increasingly important focus, which I know for Will, at least, cannot come soon enough. Its great to see him laughing and joking and farting around with Hamish, clearly pleased to be in the company of a young person again, even if its his own brother. At the end of our travels alone he was heartily sick of the trip, and probably also had had enough of me. For him, come the day…

At this point Will and Hamish’s departure is still some days away, but already I am starting to feel the parting from Will is close. How can I say how proud of him I am, how extraordinarily grateful I am that he was the one who was with me through so much, through the rough and wearisome, through the good and sometimes uplifting moments. Will, you‘ve been great: you’ve been fun to be with, strong, uncomplaining and so dependable, someone I now know, could not have been a better companion for me in this journey of our lives. Thanks for the memories, Will. Its been a journey which I am certain I will cherish as much for the experience of your company as for the memories of the adventure we‘ve shared for so long together.

For Ros and I, our return home is still a few weeks off as we propose to comfortably spend valuable time together and will travel a bit of the UK again, probably to the Lake District and Scotland, and of course arrange for shipping of our sturdy car back home. Like Will, however, the prospect of returning to a normal life, of work and friends and family and home comforts and ease looms increasingly larger in my mind, as time goes by. Come the day…

[Photos: line of trucks waiting to enter Slovalia; Centre Pompidou, Paris; Father Christmas and Will, Folkstone, UK, after driving off the tunnel train]

[This is our last blog covering daily travels however two further blogs will be posted shortly, one to say an appropriate thank you and the second, to, in a sense, measure an, extraordinary journey - one which I hope you, the reader, have got some vicarious pleasure from reading about, and in a sense, of being a part of. Thank you all. Its been a great ride.]