Home on ANZAC Day

The elderly veterans were in the elevator wearing their medals, heading like we were to breakfast. Perhaps Alex woke early enough for the dawn service. I needed my sleep in order to drive the car home to Sydney.

The route south from Port Macquarie is easier than up, less congested. Alex wants to take the Old Pacific Highway, to stop at little towns and rest areas along the way. It’s what I dream of too.

But once you are on the busy motorway you become loath to stop. It is a battleground for cars. Who can take the prime position, to reach their destination first. If you stop then you will be stuck behind that slow vehicle you just overtook again. Cruise control keeps you at a relatively constant speed, but it is the relative speed that matters, tiny differences leading to major frustrations.

And so it is that the driving is tiring and all I want to do is reach home.

Maybe another day, when it is not holidays, when the road is quieter and the music louder, a long journey could be more pleasurable. Today, I am just happy to be home.

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