Travel theme: benches


According to Where is my backpack?, this week is all about benches : “Every park bench has a story to tell and when I see one, I can’t help dreaming up a history”. Yes, benches have a lot of story to tell and today, I have one for you.

gary's girlfriend This bench is located by the little beach in Fremantle, Australia, and it has a statue of a fat woman wearing a tiny bikini seating on it. I never knew her any name, and we never got around to find one for her, but for me she’ll always be “G’s girlfriend”.

As I mentionned to G. a few days after we met that I was leaving Perth to try living in Fremantle he said: “I love Freo, I have to introduce you to my girlfriend’. And there she was, gorgeous beach babe on his phone! Little did I know then what she would mean to me in the next few weeks and how much comfort she would give me as came the time of goodbyes.

G. came down to Freo to visit me the very day I left Perth and as we were randomly walking around town, we ended up facing her and we sat with her chatting for a while, his hand on her breast the whole time (don’t ask why but if you knew the amount of people I have seen with their hands on her boobs!).

G. left the next day, three weeks working up North and I would often come accross her on my way to the beach. I would send him photos of her, being patiently waiting for him to come home. But he came back to me, and we ditched her for the pier, desperatly waiting for the dolphins to come by… Eventually he had to resume work, our lives like this for a wee while, on and off…

The last time he came to visit me, we went to the little beach, had a chat with her and that’s when she became the statue of my broken heart. As I let G. go that day, and the world kept on turning as if he never happened she was the only thing, that one piece of evidence that he happened to me.

My very last day in Freo, I went to bid my farewell to her. I sat on the bench, but she said nothing, we did not need too, the two of us tearing up for the same man who never would be bound to anyone or anything. The tears I had proudly held back all day started to overflow all over my face and I had to go, but as I left and looked back at her it seemed to me she was saying: “don’t worry I’ll be here, when he comes back I’ll tell him you came”.

Today, G. has left Australia for four months already and I have for eight months. Time flies and we all get caught up in the flow of our little lives, but she is still there, quietly waiting for him to come back, and at least her, she has the chance of being his girlfriend for always.




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