Farewell to My Hosts and a Morning of Gratitude
I woke at 6:30 that morning. It was the day I would leave the home of the hosts who had kindly welcomed me for three days. A quiet sense of sadness lingered, but I wanted to make the last hours meaningful. My target was to leave by 10 a.m., and before that I spent some time in my room, writing a letter and reflecting on how this stay had changed me.
When I asked myself what I could give in return, the answer was simple—conversation. So I spent my remaining time talking and laughing with Leona and Peter. Before leaving, I handed Leona both the letter and a flower. Her eyes filled with tears as she whispered, “This is truly moving.” I was struck deeply, realizing once again how a small gesture, like giving flowers, can touch the heart in ways beyond words.
Warmth in Berry at IV Coffee
The first town I aimed for after Bomaderry was Berry. A few days earlier, I had been invited by a local café: “If you ever pass by, please stop in.”
When I entered the town, the streets were crowded, and cycling through the bustle wasn’t easy. But the moment I stepped into IV Coffee, the staff welcomed me with wide smiles. I ordered baked cheesecake and coffee, and to my surprise, they said, “It’s on the house today.”
They listened to my travel stories, encouraged me, and spoke kind words. Though I only stayed for a short time, I could feel the warmth of the people of Berry in every moment.
Beyond Gerringong and into the Rain
Leaving Berry, I passed through the small town of Gerringong without stopping. The road from there became much harder—steep hills, one after another, and then the rain began to fall.
Riding with soaked, heavy bags was exhausting, but the rain also helped me make a wise decision. On one steep downhill, I felt a strong sense of danger and chose to get off the bike and walk. If the road had been dry, I might have sped down carelessly. On such a narrow, busy road, I believe the rain kept me safe.
A Miracle in Kiama
At last, I reached Kiama and took a break at the sports center. After eating too much, I had to walk a kilometer to find a restroom, grateful that in Australia I could safely leave my bags behind.
Then something extraordinary happened. The previous day, Leona had told her relatives about me, and one of them sent me a message on Instagram: “If you’re coming to Kiama, please stop by and stay.”
It felt like being guided by invisible hands. I went to meet them, and was warmly welcomed by a family full of curiosity and kindness. The children asked endless questions, and our conversations stretched from travel to life itself. That evening became one of those unforgettable moments that reminded me why I keep traveling—because every encounter can open a new page of the journey.
