Jack and Jill climbed a really, really big hill...

Long distance relationships suck. Giving something up is always difficult. Not giving it up, but being 15,000 miles away from it and unable to have it, is harder. It is being tied to a chair and having the thing you treasure most in the world put just beyond your outstretched fingertips, knowing that with the smallest movement you will have it back in your hands for safe keeping, and being unable to move.



For 8 months now, I've been living like this. By my own choice, yes, but that doesn't make it any easier! My dear Boof is my best friend, boyfriend and everything all in one. And that's enough with the soppy stuff, that's all you need to know.


After arriving home from Paris at 2am, I pottered around the house, trying to waste time that wouldn't go fast enough. At 5am, I headed to the airport to meet him. At 5.07am, the plane landed. At 5.42am, I went to the customs doors to see if something was wrong and was politely escorted back to the waiting area. At 5.55am I was starting to think I'd imagined that he was coming. At 6.05am, I was the happiest girl in the world because he was THERE. Right in front of me!


Wouldn't you know, the lucky bugger had scored 3 seats to himself on the flight over and managed to get about 9 hours sleep. Which was 9 hours more than I had gotten. But we spent the afternoon playing tourist, heading to Dubai Mall because Boof loves shopping, he couldn't wait to see the biggest Mall in the world. Ok that's a lie and we mainly went for food, but still it's an impressive sight. We ate, went outside and checked out the Burj Khalifa - well, I checked it out while he got chatted up by some local guys who wanted photos with him (don't think they'd ever seen a ranga before). Then we hit Sega Republic, the indoor theme park at the mall, beating little kids at video games and riding roller coasters and trash talking like we'd never spent a day apart.


Next day we went to Friday Brunch - a Dubai institution. All you can eat, all you can drink, all afternoon. He got to meet some of my Dubai friends for the first time, putting faces to names while the waitress, bless her heart, brought us round after round of drinks, without us even needing to get up or order them. Ah brunch. Following this, we went to Irish Village, where the annual Hopfest (Beer Drinking Festival) provided us with a few [too many] more beers. Things got messy - literally - with drink throwing, biting, stumbling. I don't know where the rumours come from about Dry Dubai.

We spent the next day at the Palm watching rugby, then wandered around Dubai Marina and Jumeirah Beach for awhile. On Sunday, we went for a stroll around Dubai Creek. We took a 1 dirham (25 cent) water taxi across the creek - always an adventure, you never know if the boats are going to make it or not they are so old - and wandered around the souks. It was about 46 degrees, and I was not coping very well, so we spent another 3 dirham and went to the Dubai Museum to dry out in the air conditioning. After this, we walked a bit more, but my inner Veruca Salt came out and I cracked a fruity - we were leaving the Spice Souk right away, I was sweating like a pig, we weren't buying anything, it was pointless, the workers were creepy and lecherous, he was sweating like a pig, we'd seen everything there, we didn't even know what we were looking at there anyway as they were all spices and herbs that we couldn't identify and besides that, neither of us can cook! After giving up on excuses and simply charging off to accost a taxi driver to take us elsewhere (air conditioning was my only prerequisite), we went to yet another Mall and had some lunch.


We spent the next couple of days doing bits and pieces but mainly just relaxing. The Malls, the big Hotels, movies, I even got a fancy dinner cooked for me at home. We went to 'the top' of the Burj Khalifa; how the 124th floor of a building over 200 floors is considered 'the top' fails me mathematically, but it's still a long way up with a very cool view. Seeing as he had a lot of questions about the local culture and religion that I couldn't answer, we went to a mosque to have someone else answer them. Chicken didn't even ask anything.


On his last day in Dubai, we went on a desert safari, by far the coolest tourist activity in Dubai. We went 4WD-ing into the Sahara, ran through sand dunes, hung out with camels, held a falcon, watched the sun set over the desert, rode a camel, ate a feast, watched a belly dancer, drank some tinnies (Fosters of all things!) and smoked some sheesha. Life was good.


And then he was gone, London-bound.

Lucky for me, I was off to Sydney for a 6 day trip following his departure and wasn't around to notice how empty Dubai felt without him. When I got back, I had a couple of days off and decided that what the hell, I'd jump on a flight to London and spend some more time with him. We spent the weekend in a place called Hurstpierpoint, a tiny village in Sussex. Boof's mates were staying there as one of them had family in the area - I'm just going to point that out because it's a pretty random place to backpack to. We got a room at the pub, about the only place to stay in the whole village, and I settled in for a few days of doing nothing.

The next day, we caught the train down to Brighton. It was the day before the opening party of Gay Pride week and the city was overflowing with people. The sun was out, so the beaches were packed. The pier was full of people, tourists, families, everyone just enjoying the weather and having a good time. I'd never been to Brighton before but I really liked it. Great atmosphere and some really nice areas to wander around. It's full of students, so pubs and drinks are generally really cheap in most places. That night we were thinking about going out in the city, but opted instead to stay in the village. With a group of 7 Australians in town, we almost outnumbered the locals - they must have thought they were being invaded. We ended up having quite a big night on our pub crawl...made it through all 3 pubs and 1 wine bar. It was huge.

Next day Boof decided to drag me up a mountain. We walked through fields, jumping fences through paddocks and trying not to get rammed by sheep, spit on by llamas or shit on by horses, and eventually got to the bottom of the hill we were supposed to go up. It was pretty much vertical and there was this huge part of me that flat out refused to do it. I think that part was all the fat that's developed over what used to be muscles, because the muscles would have got me up the hill without too much trouble back in the day. After not exercising much [at all] for the past couple [few] weeks [months], I wasn't even sure I'd be able to do it. But I do love a challenge, and so I huffed and I puffed and I dragged my ass up the damn hill. And the view was worth it, honestly the countryside in England is beautiful, so much more so than I ever realised. There was even a family who had put tents up on top of the hill and were camping, an idea Boof was pretty keen to try. Unfortunately (luckily?) I had to depart pretty early next morning and the camping trip was postponed until after I'd left. Our evening was spent at a romantic dinner at the local Chinese take-out instead of lugging tents and equipment up an impossibly steep hill, something only a little bit of me was only a little bit upset about.

And then I was on yet another plane.

After having him around again, settling so easily back into old habits and our easy together-ness, I understand why it is we bother. Some things are worth the trouble, the pain and the difficulty. A lot of people, when they learn I have a boyfriend living back in Adelaide, laugh at the idea, or shake their heads, or tell me it couldn't possibly work out. They're the glass half-empty people, I guess. Sucks to be them. My glass is seven-eighths full and getting fuller every day!

She'll be coming down the mountain...