Going Walkabout...

A couple of weeks ago Linton broke her little toe. At least it certainly looked like she did. The purple and black mash of skin where her toe was supposed to be gave her no end of grief or pain and curtailed all of her running and walking activity for too long. Flip flops were her only footwear. This momentary blip in her ability to walk comfortably, reminded us both of just how reliant we have become on our own two feet and just how far we have come and gone - walking.

One of the much anticipated joys of coming to Oz was going to be the temporary and somewhat experimental freedom gained by not owning or operating a car. We had chosen to take this year of opportunity to try, among many other things, and live without the many conveniences and expenses that owning a car brings. No insurance. No gas. No parking. No dings, dents or depreciation. No nothing. We figured not driving a car was going to, in fact, make us money! And in the process we would gain the less tangible but nonetheless satisfying perks of less personal responsibility for global warming, better fitness, less traffic-induced stress, as well as the chance to “really explore the city” on foot. Well, after nine plus months of this experiment and with the aid of this blogger’s microscope –I would have to say that the jury is still out on the opportunity costs – the measurement of the relative wins versus losses - associated with our lives as pedestrians.


Without a doubt, walking has at least allowed us to retain some form of fitness. Linton has done much better with respect to being active, but the walking to and from the university everyday – about 5 kms – has at least provided me with the feeling that I, too, was burning off something. In fact, I love it just for the opportunity to think about things. Perhaps I am burning off some form of mental clutter along with last night's pot roast. Indeed, many a blog entry or essay paragraph has been written in my head as I traipsed down Rathdowne Street.


Along with the fitness, the will to walk has become something of an accepted “given” every time we open the front door and this too has been a bit of a welcome revelation. Back home in Toronto, our first inclination was always to drive because it was faster and more convenient in terms of carrying or carting all of those important things we must carry or cart. In reality, when you don’t own a trunk, you can still make do, just fine. Our backpacks have become a permanent part of our wardrobe. In the past few days, I have been seen walking the streets of Carlton carrying potted herbs, groceries, scooters, a Christmas tree and an occasional kid. I like to believe that the tired arms, legs and back that exist as a result of all this slow, physical, bipedal transport is not only getting me in better shape but also somehow making me a better person in some sort of strange, personal Karma-like way. There’s got to be some pay off beyond tighter buns and a cleaner world. Doesn't there?!


The kids have also done really well with the walking. There have been very few whining moments where one has exclaimed “I wish we had a car” and indeed the six or seven rental cars we've rented for holidays have probably mitigated that somewhat. Yeah, I guess walking to Sydney wasn't really in the cards! There are still the occasional parent-assisted moments, but for the most part we walk and walk and walk wherever we need to go. We also talk while we walk and I wonder about this “found” moment in our lives as well. Can you truly have the same type of conversation with your kid while you are in the front seat and they are in the back? Is it still possible to connect in a conversation while you are fiddling with the radio, planning your route, and trying to turn left? Is the pace of driving and the life that comes with it just not that conducive to having a thoughtful conversation with your son? Linton and I have had some incredible conversations just by strolling over to the post office! The investment of time involved in walking seems to come with a most sublime bonus - the opportunity to communicate.


However, recently I have begun to notice a few ways that walking may have limited our Australian experience. We bought the boys scooters for Christmas to help in their ability to wend our way around Melbourne and while they have certainly had the desired effect, I have noticed a couple of things about them in terms of affecting our walks. For one, the boys are now often far ahead of us and thus the opportunity to talk is not as available. Secondly, the scooters actually allow the kids to go farther, faster. Now this is mostly a bonus in terms of covering ground, but it has also got me wondering if not owning a car was in fact the best way to go. How much of this great city have we missed because it was just that much too far away? Would we have ventured out more often, every weekend in fact, to see what lurked beyond the next suburb? Would the relative costs of running an old junker up and down the streets of Melbourne been outweighed by the benefits of seeing and doing more when our old legs just couldn’t bear the thought of pounding the pavement one more time? Does life with a car make that life richer or poorer, in fitness or in wealth of experience?


My theories are about to be put to the test in another way as we have finally got around to sprucing up two of our landlord’s bikes. They are nothing fancy and indeed the seat on mine is hard enough to make granite look comfy. Nonetheless, Linton and I hope to soon set out upon the bike trails of Melbourne to see what else we can see. Would we have got around to walking these same trails? Probably not. Will our Melbourne experience be changed as a result of seeing a few more sites? Maybe. Would I recommend to someone else in a similar situation to get themselves a car? Probably. And I guess, having said that, my verdict is in.

And yet maybe after having made a choice to walk this year, I shouldn’t second guess it, but rather enjoy all that we have learned as a result. The car and its accompanying lifestyle, for better or worse, await us when we get home. Perhaps, my only hope is that we might leave it in the driveway, once or twice, in honour of all that we have learned - by walking in Australia.