Welcome to For Lovers, a place where I write bi-weekly letters to my beloved, long-distance friends. I’m a 24-year-old American who just spent a year living out of my car and traveling around Australia.
November 13, 2024.
To my dearest long-distance friends,
I’m writing from a café in Amed, a small fishing village in Bali. I’ve been in Bali for over three weeks now — which means that it’s been three weeks since I’ve finished my great Australian adventure.
I picked this village because it’s known for its lack of tourists (if that’s possible on this island). After weeks of intensive yoga teacher training, I was looking forward to a reclusive couple of days.
Last night, when I checked into my homestay, I realized my vision of relaxation was not the reality. For months, a restful day consisted of driving to some cafe, escaping everyone, and plunging into a river or ocean. I would then drive to some deserted spot, make dinner, brush my teeth, and listen to the night sounds as I curled up in bed.
I haven’t properly stargazed in over a month, and I realized the solitude I’m craving in Amed is a type I’ve unfortunately left behind in AUS.
It took me a year to drive over 35,000km around the coastline of Australia, but on October 19th, I flew over it all within six hours. As I crossed the country from the sky, I saw time as if it were a map. Spanning the whole country, there were moments and lessons — serendipitous intersections of places and people — in each road I’d traveled.
When I looked at the east coast, I saw waterfalls, beginnings, and innocence. In the south, I saw family, campfires, and roots. In the west, I saw gorges, solitude, and the night sky. I saw rainy days and dancing on the beach. In the north, I saw all things wild. I saw laughter, and I saw the beginning of the end.
This map of memories was all mine — only to be seen, remembered, and interpreted by myself. I used to think it was sad that no one would fully understand my experience, now, I find it precious.
After I watched the sunset from the plane, I couldn’t stop scanning the Outback desert for the glow of humans below me. I wondered if there were people camped out there, circling a fire. Maybe they were lying sideways across their chair, head facing the stars, debating the destination of this blinking plane traversing the sky above them (like I had done so many times before).
I couldn’t see anything, but if there was anyone down there, I felt jealous of them.
It’s funny how ending a chapter makes the past feel even further away. The days of last July ended months ago, yet they didn’t start to feel over until I sold my car in October. It’s as if every memory in Australia was one continuous, living thread that led all the way to this present moment.
It took three weeks of my journey in Bali for the thread to finally break, for me to finally cut ties with this adventure. These memories are officially memories, and I’ve now grasped that my days in the Australian wilderness are over (at least for now).
Maybe this happened because I wasn’t processing the constant endings in AUS until now. Maybe it’s because I realized there will be no new memories of driving around the coast in my lovely home, Goldie. Maybe it was the promise of new memories that kept the old ones alive. Maybe it takes the ending of the memory-making, the closing of the chapter, to finally set the past into its rightful place. (We can’t hold onto things forever.)
At first, this felt painful. Now, the grief I feel is different than the types I’ve felt before. My experience has been so beautiful that gratitude quickly overcomes any sadness. I honestly feel hopeful.
The days of driving Goldie down the beach are over, but when I reminisce, my heart still races like I’m flooring the accelerator and praying to make it through the dunes. It’s all a constant reminder that the essence of the life I created is not going anywhere. In the grand scheme, flying home feels like the end of the beginning, not the end. There is a whole lot more to come.
With so much love and hope,
Julianna
P.S. Life has been crazy, and as my time in Australia came to an end, all I wanted was to focus on the experience. I pulled back on my newsletter, and I only documented my travels in my journal. As I gear up for the next phase of my life, I’m going to publish letters consistently again. I plan to post bi-weekly. Some letters will be inspired by my journal entries (the letters I would have published over the last few months). Others will be about my life today.
soooo beautiful and relatable. So proud and happy to be a part of your roadtrip family and a so beautiful character of your life. I’m thrilled to read ur upcoming newsletters!!
So so beautiful. Thrilled to have you home, you bring so much joy and beauty to our lives! 💓