June 24, 2019
Sydney rain is formidable. We don’t get anything for weeks, months perhaps, and then it hammers down, running like rivers over roads and gathering in great pools around stormwater drains.
Last night I had to drive home in the middle of one of these downpours. It opened up as I was crossing the dreaded, multi-lane Western Distributor. I haven’t really driven for 35 years and don’t know the lanes or exits. I had to talk myself through it in a ‘Come on, you can do it’ way and I probably shaved 3 months from my life but hell, I did it. I even found a parking space near my house and managed a tidy little parallel park.
I’ve done all sorts of things in my nutty life that other people might call courageous or even reckless — throwing myself in the path of danger, climbing the Thorong La Pass in the Himalayas in trainers, moving from country to country usually alone and often with just a suitcase — but, but, crossing the Western Distributor in the dark, driving rain, has made me feel like a warrior.