Escaped

Six months ago I broke my ankle. In six months I've learnt the skill of moon boot walking, got to know my physiotherapist very well and discovered the frustration of life with limitations.

But probably the most valuable part of those months is coming to understand a little more about the power of acceptance ... a response that receives rather than resists what is happening ... it changes everything. I've now graduated to a sports ankle brace and while I've been told it will be another six months before the bone is back to full strength, I'm beginning to feel the wind beneath my wings.

One of the things I missed most was getting out with my camera into big wide-open spaces and finding unexpected beauty. Last weekend I escaped! It was a great feeling, like the much awaited school holidays had arrived after the long winter term.

I headed for the village of Hill End to soak myself in the history and drink in the beauty of a bygone era. I'd made the bold decision to book into the Royal Hotel, despite reading many less than flattering reviews. I wanted the authentic Hill End experience and there was no better way to do that than to stay in the last remaining hotel which dates back to 1872.

At the height of the Gold Rush there were 29 hotels in town ... now the Royal stands as the last sentinel of the history, and alive with character ... creaking stairs, sloping floors and wallpaper from another century. Now just a faithful few frequent the bar and dining room but it wasn't hard to imagine the hustle and bustle that rang through the walls over its 145 year life and the din from the stamper batteries in the streets beyond.

Now there are just remnants ... reminders of an era that made Australia great. I marvelled at the tenacity and ingenuity it must have taken to survive life on those harsh mining fields. It's a testimony to man's indomitable spirit. But where there's a will there's a way and slowly a town grew. There was a draper's shop, an oyster bar attached to the newsagency, (oysters sent from Sydney - I think I'd have passed!), a dispensary, tobacco and fancy goods store and so much more ... it became a thriving metropolis.

The miners have long gone but their fingerprints are still evident ... in the handmade bricks that once put walls around a family's life, now scattered ... in the century old trees that offer shade from the summer heat, once seedlings planted long ago in anticipation ... and the hand hewn stones that grace the church that still remains today.

The road to Hill End is steep in parts and twists and turns frequently, much like the last six months of my life. I'm glad I've learnt over the years to focus on the journey and not just the end of the road. It's easy to rush to the destination and miss all the good things along the way.

Life is about the journey not the destination and often the detours and byways are more important.

In every twist and turn there's a discovery to be made and I never know what will be just around the corner but there's bound to be another gem if I have the eyes and time to find it.