The first scent of Eucalyptus

We watched JoJo as she moved gracefully, like a grey cloud under the water. She came so close to shore that we could have touched her. The water was clear, and she looked like she had a smile on her face. It was then we noticed she was not alone. Three stingrays followed closely behind. They were probably the males as they are always smaller in size. I had seen her here before, a number of times. She frequented these shores and was a popular visitor for the locals. We returned to our spot on the beach and laid our towels on the warm sand. I watched James from the side. He was facing the sun, droplets of seawater running slowly down his tanned body. His eyes were closed, and a soft smile appeared on his face.

- How many times have we done this? He asked.

- This is one thing that you never get tired of. Right?

- Strange how things happen, isn’t it? This is exactly as it was on the very first day we met.

I started to think back a time long time and what had brought me here in the first place. And I guess I never in my wildest dreams would have thought I would end up here, in South Australia.

Heavy mantels of snow covered the pine trees in the forest. It was quiet, almost as if the landscape was tucked away in cotton wool, sleeping comfortably until the light would wake it from its winter sleep. It was a time of rest.

I had skied through the forest all the way from the other side where my grandmother had her house and now, I was heading towards the footpath near where I lived. My body was warm from the exercise, and I felt comfortable as I could follow in the tracks of a skier that had gone before me. It made the trip so much easier not having to plough through mounds of soft snow. I stopped just before reaching the main road. It had been dusted with sand and salt to give it traction, leaving a brown slush across the footpath.

It was the end of February and we had passed the polar nights, the shortest day of the year but even though the sun had returned from the south for an hour or so, the dark days still seemed long. The lack of light disrupts your body clock and I found myself tired and lacking that spark of real energy. I started to think about a short getaway holiday to the sun. There was still two weeks to go before the school holidays, my last semester before I would graduate as an economist. I had plenty of time to think about what I would be doing next.

My thick socks were wet, and I hung them on the element to dry in hall. The ski boots never stayed dry for very long, and it was always your feet that had that constant feeling of dampness. The rest of my body was warm, and I stripped off the layers of clothing getting ready for a hot shower. Our bathroom was in the basement which was never a warm place especially in the winter, yet I knew my mother had put the heater on and I indulged myself in the luxury of that beautiful warm, steamy shower.

-Yes, I think I would like to go away. Somewhere sunny, far away from the Scandinavian winter. Just for a while.

Mum laughed and lit a cigarette. We drank tea at the kitchen table and looked out into the darkness that seemed to swallow all sense of perspective.

- Well, you have time up your sleeve. Why don’t you try for one of those leftover charter trips they advertise. I’m sure it would not cost too much.

She was the one who started the ball rolling. It was not long before I had found a cheap charter trip to Las Palmas in the Canary Islands. It did not cost more than $100 for a week, including a not quite five-star hotel by the beach. I phoned my friend Margareth, and I did not have to talk her into it. She was onboard before I had even finished the conversation.

I did not know then that this journey to the sun would become a major turning point in my life and change my future and the entire direction that my life would take.

It was a warm night; the stars were bright, and the air filled with the scent of spices from the grills by the sidewalks. Rosemary, lemon, lime, and thyme all in a wonderful inviting mixture. Lights in the palm trees and crowds moving in and out of the late-night shops looking for that souvenir to take back home with them, haggling over the prices that seemed to vary from person to person. It was colourful, exotic, and wonderfully crazy with noise coming from every direction. Ceramic plates, clothes, jewellery and hand embroidered tablecloths and bead spreads. The smell of leather from the bootmaker who made individual sandals to fit your feet. Discotheques and bars with signboards promising free drinks or tapas to draw the people in. And then there was the music almost deafening coming out like a pagan war dance from the speakers. We were tired from a long day on the beach, climbing the sand dunes of Maspalomas, soaking up the sun and swimming in the salty Mediterranean Sea. But we got a new spark of energy as we took in the life and the lights of the night. Everything was alive, different tongues speaking other languages from just about everywhere you could think of.

Alhambra. The sign in green and red neon and the sideboard offering free drinks and tapas for women. It was the women they wanted, to draw in the men. The winding stairs led down to the discotheque bar where the music was loud and thumping, and the lights were flickering on the floor and ceiling. It was quite early in the evening and the dancefloor was almost empty. I had a request for songs that I presented to the charming disc jockey, who reminded me of Cat Stevens. He was only too happy to accommodate me if we promised to dance and that’s when it all changed. Everything that seemed impossible suddenly became possible and everything that had a place suddenly became displaced. A whirlwind of thoughts and gambit of emotions all in one night. Something unknown that became a tease and a taste for something else.

James sat at a table with his friend, and I don’t know if I noticed him first or the other way around. But it was not long before we sat together on the sofa talking and laughing, both sensing there was something magical in the air. Electricity, a magnetism you could not define. He had long curly dark hair and blue eyes. He wore an army shirt and jeans, and I remember thinking he wore too many clothes for this warm Mediterranean climate, but I did not know then he was used to the hot weather.

James came from Australia. He was living in London for a year but tired of the long, frosty winter and jumped a ship to southern Spain. He had only just arrived in the Canary Islands and was loving the warm weather which reminded him of home. Meeting James was like stepping into the unknown, yet something oddly familiar. He was so easy to get along with, it was like we had known each other for a long time and from that moment on that sofa we became inseparable. The friendship did not last long before a romance blossomed and the beaches, country towns, tavernas, streets and the pretty-coloured lights of the Catalina Park where we would walk in the evenings, became ours during this one short week under the Mediterranean sky. I tried to get to know him as much as I could, but time was not on our side and no matter how much time we spent together or what we did we both knew that it would come to an end soon. Something had happened to me that week and as I sat in the plane heading back to Sweden I wrote in my diary “I have met somebody that I will probably never see again…” I felt as though I had left a part of myself back there in the Canary Islands.

The snow was still there when we got home, and we both returned to school and our familiar lives. Margaretha who had watched me that week knew something had changed. Then the first letter arrived. The second. The third. And soon we were corresponding almost weekly. The words were like poetry, charming, every word alive, talking about the chilly winter nights in the attic he lived in in London where he had returned to and saying he missed me and one day he would come to Sweden. But he never said when.

Winter turned to spring and the snow melted in the forest. Young plants began to emerge when the days became longer and would become frost burned and stunted as the cool nights persisted. I started to long for the power of the midnight sun and when the polar day finally arrived the real celebration began.

School finished and I was free. I had visited an island off the West Coast of Sweden before and decided to return there for a couple of weeks. It was summer, the eternal day was here, and I was not going to let it slip through my fingers. The thickly foliaged island with its lighthouse at the top of a small rocky mountain, greeted me with its beauty and the little fishing cabin overlooking the barren stoney beach and sunsets became my home during the few weeks I was to spend on this remote paradise. One day I got a message from the hotel owner whom I knew. It was from my mother asking me to phone home. It was with hesitation I put the coins into the slot of the pay phone, waiting nervously for her voice at the other end. Mum sounded happy, bubbling with excitement as she told me James had arrived. He was spending the night in my room at our house. She said she would put him on a train the following morning and that I was to meet him at the station and take him to the island. It seemed my mother, who was very astute at defining human nature, was rather impressed with this Australian who had just arrived on our doorstep from London.

I spent hours down by the cliffs that night looking out at the sea and wondering what it would be like to see him again. Fear and nerves grabbed me as I rode on the ferry the next day. It was such a brief time we were together in the Canaries, and I wasn’t sure how I would feel now. His carriage was the last on the train and he was the last to get off. I saw two silver earrings glimmering in the sun behind that long dark hair as he walked slowly towards me. We greeted each other as people do who have not seen each other for a long time and slowly began the long walk back to the ferry station.

Our time on the island was filled with good vibes. We got to know each other again, it was as if we had never parted and that summer romance became something more serious and as time progressed, we understood this was the way it was meant to be.

James spent his very first white Christmas with us. He had never seen snow before and I watched him laugh as it fell into his bare hands and staring at the little snowflakes in wonder he said, “they look like little stars.”

But life is not without thorns, and I was soon to face what was to become the worst time in my life. My mother became seriously ill. I was not only loosing my mum, but I was losing my best friend. The years that followed were not easy. We lived with my dad and James soon found out that making a living in Sweden was not as easy as he had thought. He tried various jobs, starting off as a kitchen hand, dishwasher and then as a waiter. It was only when he got work as a silk screen printer that life finally seemed to settle a little. He was a highly creative person, and he was able to explore his own creative side in a new direction.

But the long, dark winter months got the better of him. He found himself isolated, without any close friends and with me and my dad as his only family he started to long for the sunny days and blue skies of Australia. I agreed to come with him for a visit and to meet his parents. It was my turn to make the big move, to travel to the other side of the world.

- Wait until you smell the first scent of Eucalyptus, you will never forget it.

As it turned out I could never forget it. Australia would eventually become my new home. A long way from my beloved Sweden. Yes, the scent of Eucalyptus and Australia….But that is another story.