A Morning of Farewells
At 7:30 a.m., still fighting sleepiness, I stepped into the living room to find the father already preparing to leave. With a warm smile, he suggested we take a final photo together. Even with my half-awake face, the camera captured a beautiful moment—one of those rare pictures that feels perfect without trying.
Soon after, the mother also prepared to head out, and we took another photo together. The children remained lively and curious until the very end, their energy filling the house as they ran around. Watching them, I thought: perhaps this freedom of movement, this pure curiosity, is the truest expression of being human.
When the son handed me a drawing he had made, I felt a wave of emotion. It was more precious than any gift I could imagine—a treasure infused with the effort and time he had poured into it. After the family departed, I placed a flower and a handwritten letter in the quiet house. Sometimes, a few words and a single flower are enough to express deep gratitude.
Confronting the Endless Hills
I left Kiama with Wollongong as my destination, about 40 kilometers away. The challenge was not the distance but the relentless hills. Each climb felt like facing a wall, testing both my legs and my spirit.
But as I pressed on, the road began to ease little by little. Fields gave way to scattered buildings, and gradually the air shifted—the countryside fading, replaced by the pulse of the city ahead.
Entering Wollongong, a Port City
Finally, I arrived in Wollongong, a city of about 300,000 people. Known for its university, industrial port, and surfing spots, it is one of the major urban centers of New South Wales.
For a traveler on a bicycle, however, it was a trial. The traffic surged, and with a trailer behind me, every crossing felt uncertain. Crosswalks were scarce, and I had to push through carefully, every moment demanding attention. By the time I reached my host’s home, the relief washed over me like a heavy weight lifting from my shoulders.
A Dinner of Prawns and Laughter
No sooner had I arrived than my hosts suggested, “Let’s go buy whatever you like.” At the supermarket, we picked out enormous prawns—more than I had ever eaten in my life. They even brought out a $37 bottle of wine. The table became a celebration, the kind that makes you forget you are just a passing traveler.
As we ate, conversation flowed effortlessly. We spoke about travel, personality, and even our views on life. The hours passed unnoticed, until we realized it was already after ten o’clock. Time didn’t feel long—it simply dissolved into joy.
Sydney on the Horizon
Only 80 kilometers remain. Sydney, the great city, is now just ahead. Anticipation and nervousness mix within me, but I know this much: as long as I continue to be supported by the kindness of people along the way, I will find my way to the end.
