Sixteen, Sixty-One

by Sixteen, Sixty-One- A Memoir (epub)

  We stopped at a campsite and I slept in Mark’s tent. I awoke covered in bites that I can’t help scratching like a child in need of mittens. I helped cook last night and again this morning because I was one of the first up. We had Jambalaya for tea, which was delicious, and some sort of omelette with tacos for breakfast. When we cook, we stand in a long line chopping and there are systems for washing and packing up that work well. Everyone chips in and it’s helped us get to know one another.

  Rob, our driver, thought I was American or maybe Italian. Seeing the look of horror on my face as I contemplated going home with an American accent, he’s decided to call me an American Princess from now on.

  We just hiked two miles up and down mountains to get to delicious hot springs with a view of rolling mountains and waterfalls. For some daft reason we started this hike at 2pm and, with hardly a tree in sight, I didn’t think I’d make it. But it feels worth it now. Having sat in the icy waterfall for half an hour, I’m ready for the bathwater springs. I still have to pinch myself to know I’m really here.

  We spent four or five hours at the hot springs, then made our way down the mountain. After the first mile, it began pouring and a thunderstorm drenched us. The others, already dry on the bus, were waiting with clean towels and cheers.

  Yellowstone, Wyoming

  We stopped in Montana to transform the bus and woke up in Yellowstone National Park. We made an oatmeal breakfast by Mammoth Hot Springs, next to elks. We walked along the path seeing the clouds of steam that spurt from holes in the rock and the orangey pools of water hot enough to burn your skin off. Now we’re driving towards the Little Grand Canyon, watching out for bears and seeing only buffalo and elk. The scenery is fascinating because of the ’88 fire. These long thin trunks of pine trees stick up into the sky, stripped of all branches, but towering over the smaller new trees. If you look out across the hills, you can see more burnt trees that have fallen like scattered matchsticks. Apparently the pine seeds are designed so that they explode when they get hot and shower seeds everywhere, meaning there are as many new trees as there are old dead ones.

  Grand Tetons, Wyoming

  I dreamt of Matthew last night. I woke in a bunk, the bus hurrying along an empty road with Rob at the wheel and light snores punctuating the regular rumble of the engine. Closing my eyes I saw his wrinkled grin, imagined his scorn. ‘What are you doing, Baba? Do you think you can fool these people just because you wear hiking boots and pretend to be a backpacking hippy? Do you think you’re one of them?’ I opened my eyes and he flew away. Traipsing through national parks and swimming in natural lakes feels real and invigorating during the day, but at night I lose the people sleeping to my left and right and feel locked inside my own head, as if Matthew’s been right all this time: as if as hard as I try to cloak myself in different identities – student, traveller, lesbian, director – I’ll never be anything more than the shy teenager sat on his chaise.

  I write this by torchlight in my sleeping bag outdoors at the Grand Teton National Park. We’re braving bear country to sleep under the stars. Today we woke at Biscuit Basin in Yellowstone, a collection of pools so hot they boil great bubbles. From there, we walked a couple of miles to Old Faithful. On the way, we passed other magnificent pools as well as whitish rock formations with steam blowing from them. Everyone has to walk on boardwalks because the earth below, though it looks harmless, is often sinking mud. The colours are absurdly vivid and contrast amazingly with the fairly bland landscape of pine trees and dry earth. I checked and it’s a constructive plate boundary. I can’t explain the excitement I felt when I saw the signs and understood them. I wish I could talk to my old geography teachers who injected such mysticism into these exotic plate boundaries that I now stand (and sleep) upon. I waited for forty minutes at Old Faithful before it blew. It was spectacular, though the touristy atmosphere and attempt to capture both still and video footage meant the sheer impressiveness of water shooting 100 feet in the air because of convection currents below my flip-flopped feet did not sink in until later.

  We drove for some hours to our current campsite, stopping only because Virginia decided she needed the loo and didn’t tell anyone until she was at a number nine (there’s a ten-point system: one=comfortable, ten=oops!). At the campsite, we walked to Jackson Lake, a great spread of still, clear water just below the Tetons. We swam in the late afternoon sun, then dried off by the shore. We tried going back again for the sunset but arrived too late so are planning to seek the sunrise tomorrow morning.

  I survived the night with only a few shivers and no bad dreams thanks to the excellent cuddling skills of Charlie with his sub-zero sleeping bag. I had maybe four hours of sleep before we got up to watch the sunrise over the mountains. Actually, it rose behind us, but after an hour and a half of freezing in my pyjamas, the mountains turned pink. Afterwards, us early-birds warmed up by making French toast and now we’ve chucked everything off the bus for the promised clearout.

  We hiked halfway around Lake Jenny, then up to ‘Hidden Falls’ and ‘Inspiration Point’. We ate lunch on rocks by a waterfall – so close that our sandwiches were covered in spray. At the beginning of the trail, we encountered a group of hesitant tourists with one stupid man edging forwards. The ranger hidden in the bushes informed us there was a bear with her cub and tutted through gritted teeth that the man was going for a photo. We saw her walk across the path and the man was extremely close for his snap. We also saw a beaver on the way and some pretty birds too. The Grand Tetons are my favourite scenery so far, which is funny because I just crossed paths with John Steinbeck travelling many decades ago and he said Wyoming was his favourite state. We left at 4.30 and drove to Jackson Hole – a touristy cowboy town. Most people went to bars, but, given my lack of legality, I went to see Superman Returns, which was a fabulous slice of normalcy.

  Devils Tower, South Dakota

  We breakfasted at a picnic site at the bottom of Devils Tower, then circled the tower and read the myths about how it was formed. It’s an enormous structure with ridges all around and a flat top the size of a football pitch. They think it might be essentially the centre of a volcano with the outer rock eroded, but there are other ideas too. The Native Americans said a giant bear was chasing a tribe when the earth saved them by rising up and the lines are where the bear clawed at the rock.

  Back on the bus people talked about tattoos. I showed mine, but evaded a question about what it means. Should I come up with a lie? I’m going to have to live with it for the rest of my life.

  Badlands, South Dakota

  We drove for the afternoon, playing cards and reading books. The land became flat as we reached the Badlands, then suddenly these enormous craters opened up in the landscape. We drove along an endless dirt track, all needing the loo but not a tree in sight. Finally we reached a Cowboy Café run by Native Americans. We had Indian tacos and I spoke to Nellie, the matriarch, about her ranch and the history of her tribe. Her life sounded appealing. Imagine living so remotely and having such a strong sense of identity. We camped on her land, somewhere out in the middle of nowhere. Someone lit a fire in a crater and lots of people fell in the cacti during the night. I drank and spoke to driver Rob for most of the evening. He noticed my rainbow bracelet and asked if I was hiding it. I said no, but I’m not flaunting it. (Someone made a gay joke on the first day and everyone laughed, so I’m keeping quiet.) Still, it was kind of nice to be pegged and I like Rob a lot for his subtlety … might be nice if he was ten years younger. Funny for me to say that, I suppose.

  I was fairly tipsy by the time Rob retired to his sleeper berth and I went to sleep under the stars, again snuggled up with Charlie. We looked at the stars and I kissed him. It was nice, not urgent. He’s nineteen, half-Italian, from Vegas and joining the army after this trip.

  We made breakfast and drove to White River where half the group is taking a mud bath and the rest sitting in trees, writing and reading. I told Rob last night that I’d go in with him, but this mornin
g I don’t feel much like playing around in the mud. Rob is disappointed I think. He just chased me, threatening to give me a bear hug with his mud-caked body.

  Wisconsin

  Pulling up at a beach by Lake Superior, I jumped off the bus and was the first into the water, full of energy. We spent a few hours there, sunbathing and eating ice-cream. I must have played four or five hours of cards during the on-the-road time. Finally we arrived at our campsite in Copper Falls State Park. I went for a walk with Charlie, but we were eaten by mosquitoes and I felt on edge whenever he tried to touch me.

  After showering and eating we huddled around a fire. I sat on the cool box next to driver Rob and we talked for ages about films, music and, eventually, my sexuality. On maybe the fifth beer I decided I had to talk to Charlie, so I lay down with him and told him I’m gay and weirded out by our kiss. I don’t know how he took it, I felt bad for being a tease – he’s a good guy, just a little immature.

  I feel worse now, though. I went back to the fire and sat leaning against Rob. He said he liked it but wouldn’t put his arm around me when I shivered. In the end I put my arm around him and we spent some time snuggling, looking for shooting stars and jumping away when someone (especially Charlie) came up with a torch.

  We went to get some more beer and, on the way back to the fire, he turned me around and kissed me. I know I should feel terrible about Charlie, but it was the sexiest kiss I’ve ever had. We slowly edged away from the group and set up a couple of pads and sleeping bags in a corner of bushes. We lay under the stars kissing and cuddling, touching and talking.

  I woke at 5.30 and, on my way to the loo, glimpsed Charlie sitting glumly. My heart raced and I hid behind the bathrooms for half an hour hoping to avoid confrontation, unsure whether he had seen Rob and me asleep in each other’s arms. When I thought the coast was clear and walked towards the bus, he popped out. He said good-morning and dashed off for a run. I took a shower and, when I re-emerged, it was pouring with rain. I ran into Rob and we decided to hide out on the bench out of the rain. We snuggled and dozed while it poured around us for a long time. Two deer came almost right up to us and I melted sleepily into his arms.

  Rob said he might come to New York after the trip. I hope so. How did I fall so recklessly, so fast, and with so little concern as to how cruel I’m being to Charlie? My whole body aches for a stolen moment with Rob. Jess will laugh. Greg will tut. Thirty-eight’s not so old, right? Twice my age. But I like him a lot. And I leave the country in two weeks.

  Chicago

  Fourth of July. I rode to the top of the Sears Tower – overpriced but an amazing view. I like this city; perhaps I’ll add it to my shopping list of possible places to live. We walked through the park where ‘Taste of Chicago’ was going on and took a boat tour. I queued for a Ferris wheel with Ash and Leah before ditching them and meeting Rob at the Art Institute. We snuck a few kisses and held hands a lot. After being thrown out at closing time, we walked around, across the river and through streets of such fantastic architecture that we cricked our necks with looking up. Later in the evening, we watched the Fourth of July fireworks over the pier.

  This time next week, Rob will be out of my life. I seem to make a pattern of getting myself into intense situations with no hope. Perhaps they wouldn’t be as intense if they did have hope, but I can’t help dreading saying goodbye.

  He asked if he was the first boy I’ve ever dated. He’s not, but I think he’s the first guy I’ve really fancied – actually wanted as opposed to falling into something with someone because he liked me, or present company was homophobic, or I was confused. I like him a lot. Too much. I don’t like guys like this. It’s odd. Nice, though, too. I wish we had kissed in the Badlands and didn’t have to be secretive now. I wish I could just be a normal girl with normal romances.

  Niagara Falls, New York State

  At five this morning I woke up to see a beautiful Ohio sunrise and steal a smile from Rob before sleeping again. We had breakfast on a beach, then drove through Pennsylvania to Niagara Falls. We took the Maid of the Mist boat tour and tickled one another, poked and smiled at the frustration of having all these blue-raincoated people around. He even snuck a quick kiss.

  I met Rob at the trolley stop after the tour and we wandered around for a while looking for internet access. Dreading Matthew’s latest rants, I decided not to check my email, but we booked a private hostel room in Chelsea for next week. Then we had a sandwich in Denny’s and talked crazily about random topics – language, semiotics, the bus, relationships … He said he’s scared by how much he wants to get to know me. Too much.

  He thinks Charlie may have seen him kiss me on the boat, so I’m vaguely preparing myself for confrontation but don’t really know how to deal with it. I hope Rob doesn’t think I’m enjoying the secrecy. I guess it comes easily, but I’m not proud of it. Rob’s right, I don’t owe Charlie anything, but I still don’t want to hurt him. I can’t wait to have Rob to myself in New York.

  New York State

  When they changed drivers in the middle of the night, Rob kissed me before going to bed. I’d just woken from a nightmare about Matthew and being back in England and went to sleep again smiling. We had breakfast by the Delaware River. We’re now camping in the Catskills and I have less and less patience for secrecy, but I’m having to entertain myself while he does paperwork. I just jumped in the ice-cold creek – Ash says I’m the ‘hardcore girl’ when it comes to cold water.

  Seeking out the sunset, Rob and I took a walk along the river and finally became too impatient to wait, so I snuck into his tent and he followed shortly after. We snuggled up in a post-coital cuddle and talked about relationships and kids and families. He asked me if he could tell me a secret about himself. He’s had a vasectomy. I told him vaguely about my one significant relationship and my new selfish desire for and love of life. He said he’s not very good at relationships. Me neither. Perhaps we’re perfect for a non-relationship relationship. I know I still can’t blurt out everything about Matthew and maybe never will be able to, but unlike Becky and Charlie, Rob seems like he knows I have a history and it doesn’t matter. All he cares about is right now. I hope we stay in touch and find each other again somewhere, if only fleetingly. I like his body. I like his kisses and his eyes, his legs and his butt, his mouth and his stubble, I like all his hats and I even like his cute shyness about his greying hair.

  We slept cuddled up and woke at 6.30. He woke up in more ways than one and I kissed him until he came, realising without much shame that I’m no good in bed.

  Then, for some absurd reason, we went and plunged naked into the river. It was so cold that we came straight back out and tangled in each other’s towels, but at least I went skinny-dipping once on the trip.

  Manhattan

  We arrived in New York at two and there were sad goodbyes. For the first time, I didn’t want to be in this city.

  He kissed me on the street and climbed back on the bus to drive on to Boston. Now I’m with Amy, giving her the gossip and feeling like a pathetic lovesick woman.

  Shopping in Soho with Amy today. Last night we saw a dreadful film, then just hung out with some wine. My mind fizzed and the weird robots on the screen did nothing to cure the depression that was forming about my looming return to England.

  Today I feel better. We got henna tattoos at an Egyptian market that made me think of Nadiyya, and walked all over Downtown. Then we saw a play in promenade at Castle Clinton in Battery Park. In the afternoon, we walked to Dino’s apartment to hang out and later headed to an Italian bar in the Village. We had pizza at another Italian place on the corner of Bleecker and Carmine, and from there we walked into Little Italy, where there was some kind of festival going on. We never found out what it was about, but people were waving flags and spilling onto the road, climbing cars and chanting excitedly.

  After a bit of negotiating with a bouncer about my lack of ID, we went into a bar. Later Amy, Dino and I walked through the chanting crowds to g
et to the subway and it felt great to blend in. Perhaps I should learn Italian. ‘Reinventing yourself again?’ Matthew would tut.

  I’m with Rob now and it’s luxurious to be in this city once more. Yesterday we met at the hostel in Chelsea around 11am. We left at one, freshly showered and ‘annoying to anyone but us’. We headed uptown to the Guggenheim where there was an exhibition of Zaha Hadid. It was awesome just to see the Guggenheim, but spiralling down, immersing myself in futuristic architecture with his palm in mine was pure artistic heaven.

  We walked through Central Park a bit and took the subway to Brooklyn, wandered under the bridges, indulgently shared expensive chocolates, then walked along the water and through the neighbourhoods. We crossed Brooklyn Bridge, taking our time to kiss every few steps, and walked all the way over to the Village for dinner. We walked back to the hostel and stayed up talking and fucking.

  We woke for sex and philosophy, ate bagels and took the subway to Columbus Circle to hire bikes. Over four hours, we cycled from 59th and 8th to 122nd and 5th, then across to Riverside Park, down along the river all the way to Battery Park and across to Pier 17, where we shared a hot dog and smoothie. Back on the bikes, we cycled up the east side and back across to 59th and 8th. Apart from the last 20 blocks of rush-hour traffic (too much even for my inner adrenalin junkie), it felt really good.

  We just came back to pick up his phone and distract ourselves for a couple more hours. Now we’re off for Thai food.

  We found Thai in the East Village. Along the way, we walked right into Rob’s friend Saul. We met up with him later to go to a club on 5th and C. It was pretty cool and we drank and danced until the place closed. Once outside, I realised how giddy I was. We laughed all the way back, buying cookies to share in bed before passing out with the key still in the door.

  Four hours later ear-splitting trucks pulled up outside our window to work on who knows what. Once awake, we resigned ourselves to hot, sticky morning sex, then went for a bagel and coffee.