1982, Road of dreams

The phone box smelled of cigarettes, dirt, and metal. Besides, it was terribly hot in there. I tried to keep the door open with one foot as I inserted the coins in the coin slot, but the traffic was loud, and I had to close it. I stared at the green phone trying to imagine the scene at the other end where my dad would be sitting in his black leather chair with a cup of coffee and the pipe resting in the ashtray. I heard the signals go through and eventually the coins dropped into the coin box as his voice answered.

- Hello.

- Hi, it is just me. How are you?

- I’m fine. How are you, and where are you now?

It had been a week since we last talked and so much had happened in my world that I hardly knew where to begin.

- We are in Ballarat in Victoria, the gold mining town. We arrived here yesterday around five in the afternoon. And talk about hot, it was 41 degrees!

- Oh my gosh, he sighed. How did you cope?

- Well, it was an effort to walk with the pack on the back, but we managed to get to the caravan park and pitched our tent. Would you believe it got so cold in the early morning that we had to use the thermal blanket to keep us warm!

I paused and waited for him to say something, it was good to hear his voice.

- How did the travelling go?

- The bus was comfortable. We left Adelaide at eight in the morning, so it was quite a long journey. We were a bit tired when we arrived but today has been a good day.

I looked up the road at the old buildings standing as a reminder of a time long ago. I could see George coming out of the Fish and Chip Shop with a rolled-up newspaper packet under his arm. Fish and Chips tonight for dinner.

- We took the bus to Sovereign Hill where we spent all day in this goldmining village. It is sort of a historic replica of how a goldmining town once looked and we even managed to get down to the creek and do a bit of “panning.”

Dad laughed at the other end.

- You don’t say? Just like your grandfather! Do you remember he went to Alaska to pan for gold?

- Yes, I remember the story. Well, we did not find anything except a few flakes that I put in a bottle. And guess what, I bought a gold-digging pan!

I looked at the green telephone and I knew the money would run out at any moment.

- Dad we are going to run out of time soon. How is everything with you?

- Same as always. A lot of snow has fallen now, and I have been shovelling outside the front door this morning. I must put sand on the steps, so they don’t get slippery when it freezes. It’s around minus 2.

The signals rang in my ear, telling me our conversation was over for now.

- I’ll call you next week dad!

- Take care of yourselves! Be careful…

It was over. I could see him putting down the phone, leaning back in his chair as he watched the white landscape outside the veranda window. The peace and tranquility of the Swedish winter. I was already looking forward to our next conversation on the coming Sunday.

Ballarat was a cozy small town where most of the old buildings were preserved or restored in their original shape. I watched an old man walking down the street and the scene became complete, it was almost like I had stepped 50 years back in time.

Only a few canons remained at the site of The Eurica Stockade where the workers fought for their rights and were stormed by troopers in 1851. We stayed for a while, taking photos, and writing postcards. It was 35 degrees warm but somehow the heat did not bother us. The nights were much cooler and there was no insulation in our little two-man nylon tent. Not even the sleeping bags or the thermal blanket seemed to warm us. I bought a steak and lettuce sandwich at the takeaway shop for two dollars and sat in the sun in the park writing my diary. I had made up my mind to keep a reasonable record of this journey, and then there were the letters to my dad that I knew he so eagerly waited for that were almost becoming small books by now.

The Greyhound bus to Sydney was going to take fifteen hours and we hoped to sleep onboard. We passed through a dried-out landscape surrounded by dead trees and the poor bedraggled sheep trying to find food in the middle of it all. No shelter from the scorching sun. I think it might have been then I started to think of becoming a vegetarian. It did not help when the big trucks passed us filled with animals on the way to the slaughterhouse in the town ahead. The animals just stood there crowded, hot and suffering as the huge roaring truck drove them to a fate unknown. I did not want to subscribe to this and made up my mind that at least during this trip I would stop eating meat. The steak and lettuce sandwich in Ballarat would be my last.

The traffic outside was loud. The phone box smelled of urine and there were cigarette buts all over the floor. I tried not to touch anything except the phone which I wiped with my dress. I looked down at my Indian sandals while I listened to the signals. God knows what stories this old phone box could tell you if it could talk.

- Hello.

- Hej, how are you?

- I’m fine, where are you now?

- We are in Sydney. It’s a long story but I will talk as fast as I can.

I drew breath and started to tell him all about my impressions of this big city. I had stayed in Adelaide which appeared as a small town compared to Sydney. The hassle and bustle here was far worse than what I was used to back home in Stockholm.

- We checked in at the Ritz, it wasn’t exactly the Ritz if you know what I mean. The carpet stank and the traffic was murder. There were cockroaches in the room as big as a mouse! We tried to get them out but could not catch them. The room cost twenty dollars a night and we could not keep that up so fortunately a friend of Georges cousin put us up for the week in his apartment. We live in the red-light district in an area called Kings Cross. It is in the middle of everything. We sleep on a mattress on the floor.

- How long will you stay there?

- Don’t know yet. There is so much to see. We have seen the Opera House; and the harbor which is beautiful! We took the train to Bondi Beach and had a swim as well. It was lovely. How is everything with you?

- Not much has changed here. It is still snowing and it’s getting more difficult to walk down the hill to the subway station. They have not ploughed yet, and you walk halfway up to your knees in snow. I shovel morning and night to get to the door.

- It sounds like it is a lot of work.

- Yes, it is, he said drawing breath. I am getting sick of the winter now. It is February and we still have a month or two to go. It has been too long. But at least it is getting lighter, and we can see the sun from time to time if we are lucky.

- We are running out of time dad. Just letting you know we might be looking for work here, we have registered with the employment office.

Those dam signals again, telling me the call would end shortly.

- Bye dad. I’ll call next Sunday!

- Take care and be careful sweetheart!

How I wish I could talk longer, tell him about everything I had seen. In my next letter I will try to get a real feel and smell to this crazy place called Kings Cross.

As I sat by the window late at night gazing out at the street below, I thought back to all our adventures and the many miles we had covered. The boat trip to Cockatoo Island, the guided tour of the Sydney Opera House, China Town, and the Art Gallery. My next letter would certainly be covering some ground. It would probably become a bit of a conversation point with the neighbours and his customers at work. The street outside was so different from the view from dad’s window with the white landscape and the only tracks in the snow were from the birds and deer that lived in the woods nearby.

I could hear arguments in the alley outside, drug dealers, prostitutes, pimps, and the occasional daring tourist. Neon sparkled in the hot night, and everything was alive. The heat, the noise, and an occasional siren. Kings Cross at midnight.

I found a phone booth at the petrol station and cars thundered by as I gathered my coins for another conversation with my dad. I tried to make the calls just after seven as the tariff was lower then. It was Sunday evening here, morning there.

- Hello sweetheart, how are you?

- I’m fine dad. It’s been a bit of a journey.

- I gather that. Thank you for your long letter and the postcard from Ballarat. I got them both on Friday. It is good to hear you are having such a good time. So, where are you now? I have the map you know, so I follow your route.

I can’t help but giggling as I imagine him sitting by the kitchen table with the huge map of Australia, trying to keep up with our adventures.

- We’re in Coffs Harbor, camping under banana trees! We spent the last day in Sydney at Tooronga Park Zoo, it was amazing and so beautiful; you can see all of Sydney from that hill and the sky was pitch black before thunder and lightning struck. It’s been very humid, and a relief to feel the rain.

- Are you eating properly?

- Yes dad, we are eating! Don’t worry, we are looking after ourselves.

- So, what is Coffs Harbor like?

- The bus left Sydney at eleven at night and it was full so we could not sleep at all. It did not get into Coffs Harbor until seven in the morning and we were more than tired. It was so hot already in that early hour and it took us one hour to walk to the camping ground. When we pitched our tent there was a big sandstorm, would you believe. Anyway, it’s green and lush which feels good after all the draught, and it has been raining. We were stuck in the tent for most of the afternoon because of the rain but now the sun is out again, and we have been swimming.

I drew breath. I tried to fit in as much as I could in the few minutes we had talked, and I wanted to hear all about what he was up to and that he was doing okey.

- Listen, I have an idea. Why don’t you make a collect call next Sunday and we can talk a bit longer?

- Sounds good dad. Is everything okey at home?

- Yes, don’t worry. It’s just the same old, same old.

And once again the call is over, and I hang up. I did not even get to tell him about the dolphin show at Marineland and how I got up on a big podium and fed the dolphins while George took photos. Or how I got to pat a dolphin! Then there was the sealion Fritz who kissed me! The show cost us $4.50 each but was well worth it.

The journey was about to take a different turn. Elisabeth and Ron were waiting in Brisbane. They had already been there two months and were living in a rented apartment at Kangaroo Point. We were to share their accommodation and I was looking forward to having a place to sleep and clean up. We arrived late in the afternoon, and they met us at the bus stop. The apartment consisted of one bedroom and a combined kitchen/sitting room. We were to sleep on a mattress on the floor in the sitting room and I had to try to forget my tiredness and wait until the tv was turned off and everyone was ready for bed before I could retire for the night. The tv was driving me mad, I was so tired and eventually I just passed out.

I tried to get used to Brisbane but it was not so easy. The place at that time seemed conservative in so many ways and I found it hard to get a grip on the city. I could not understand why we became a focal point. Was it just because of Georges long hair and the red shirt? Surely not.

 I liked the apartment, a wooden building on stilts with a big paw paw tree outside the door and a huge frangipani flowering with beautiful white flowers. The humidity was overwhelming, and I liked sitting under the trees in the park looking out over the river where it was cooler.

I stood in the phonebooth outside the “Story Bridge” pub, and I could smell the beer and hear the voices from inside. It was still light, humid, and noisy.

- Will you except the collect call from Sarah in Brisbane, Australia.

The operator sounded far away and my dad even further.

- Yes.

- Go ahead.

- Hello dad! I half yelled relieved at hearing his familiar voice.

- Hi my darling. I am glad to hear from you. It’s been such a cold week, and I am getting sick of this winter now. It’s been too long. Everyone has a cold or flu, coughing and sneezing on the train every morning.

- It’s the end of February, it gets better in March, I said. Or at least lighter.

- Where are you now?

- We have met up with Elisabeth and Ron in Brisbane and are living in their flat at a place called Kangaroo Point.

- Are there kangaroos there?

- No, no. It is the name of the place. It is by the river, a suburb of Brisbane. You catch the ferry over to town. It only takes ten minutes, and it costs forty cents, so that’s not too bad. I have put in a couple of films to be developed so I will send you photos once I get them back.

- I look forward to that. What’s the weather like?

- It’s hot and humid. We get a shower sometimes to clear the air, but it does not last long. We have a huge pawpaw tree outside the flat and the fruit bats come in big flocks to raid the tree every night. I can hear them ravishing the fruit. They make such a racket. And we have cockroaches! Not as big as the ones at the Ritz in Sydney, but still. They drive Elisabeth mad, and she is out there spraying all the time. George and I have visited the local swimming pool to cool off and I have applied for a job at the Golden Circle Pineapple factory.

- Pineapple Factory? What would you be doing there?

- Oh, it's only a temporary job, cutting pineapples at a conveyor belt. It is just to earn money so we can continue to Cairns eventually. The bus is quite expensive. It costs ninety-two dollars per person. But I won’t know until next week if I get the job. So, we might hang around here for a while until we have saved up enough to move on. And we are going to meet up with Georges old friend from England, Paul. He said we could come camping with him in Nimbin. Anyway, I have sent you our address so you can write to me now.

- Oh, that’s good. But it will take a while before I get that letter. The mail is so slow. I can send you evening papers if you like.

- Yes, I would like that. Oh, and I have met a Swedish guy who works on a boat here in the harbor. He has been here for ages and hardly ever gets to speak Swedish. Elisabeth and I are going to invite him for “kroppkakor” for dinner one day. You know the potato balls stuffed with pork and onion. Except I will be making vegie ones for me and George.

- Isn’t it a bit hot to cook? I don’t think I could take it.

- It doesn’t matter, it will be fun. Tell me about what is going on with you dad.

- Not much really, the days come and go….

And so, we talked and as usual it seemed to go to quickly.

- Take care, I love you dad.

I hung up the phone and paused for a minute before I returned to the crowd at the pub where a cold beer was waiting at the bar. I did not know then that we would be in Brisbane for another couple of months or that I eventually would get the job at The Golden Circle Pineapple Factory which would enable us to travel further north. Little did I know that it would be six months before we were to return to Adelaide and that this was only the beginning of our travels and amazing adventures, and our many conversations down the road of dreams.