Was that really me?

As we drive (rather sedately we feel) along this magnificent and historic stretch of road that is The Great Ocean Road, I look ahead, but mostly back in wonder, to think that once upon a time, in another lifetime, I actually cycled this same route.

I know that it was 30 years ago, but I must have felt incredibly optimistic or been super naive. Some of the hills and narrow sections are frightening. But that is my current self talking.

I see groups of cyclists, decked out in VERY serious cycling gear, rather different from our little group, and I either overtake them oh so steadily or wave and smile at them madly. Perhaps I am waving at my younger self.

I find myself getting lost as we drive along, thinking of that group of five. I don't remember specific places but I welcome a certain familiarity in many of them. I think I have clearer memories of the photos. I do remember a lot of laughing as well as singing out our favourite saying, "There's no shame in stopping" and the obligatory "There's no such thing as a bad red wine" as we settled into our camping ground for the night.

Yes. Me. Cycling AND camping.

I have witnesses.

These aren't as serious as some I've seen, but seeing them at this lookout made me think I may have a similar photo at home.

LOVE the blue and the rocks