Hoyle's Valley 1
I am about to move to a new apartment, so I am cleaning up my rented house and packing away my personal stuff into boxes. While doing that I found an old diary about my early days as a free-lance journalist. One entry caught my eye and triggered off some fond memories, which I will share with you.
"March 8. Story about Hoyle's Valley. Autumn leaves. Get a photographer. A weekend job."
That took me back to an earlier time. What a great weekend that turned out to be! This story is mostly about getting recognised as a journalist and how that weekend became so memorable in my early writing career.
I started off by going to Hoyle's Valley to see if I could create a story from the beauty of this rarely-visited park and its unknown waterfall. I heard about it from some bush-walking friends. I didn't know of its existence previously. I made some notes, took a few snapshots with my cellphone, and came home to compile some quick notes about the place.
It was clear that to get the full value of the wonders of the place I needed to engage a professional outdoor photographer. I knew a few, so I called the first one on my list. He was interstate, so I went to the next one. Two others were also busy with sports carnivals, so I called the last one on my list.
"Hello, are you Colin Freeman?" I asked the person who answered the phone. He confirmed that he was Colin Freeman.
"My name is Wendy Bradley and I am a free-lance journalist. Reasonably new to the profession," I told him before asking if he could do some outdoor photography for me, explaining what I had in mind and the location. He asked me where it was, because he had not heard of it, which was not surprising, I had asked the same question of my friends.
I gave him the date and that I particularly wanted to get images of the leaves turning to autumn colours. He said he liked the idea and could give me the time. We talked prices and I was happy with his charges, so I told him, "Colin, I am going to book a hotel from Friday night to Sunday afternoon. Do you want me to book a separate room for you, or would you like to share a twin room with me?"
There was a long silence before he responded, "Would that be risky, or can you be trusted not to kill me in my sleep?" I knew he was joking, but it was my opportunity to set the scene,
"I am a lady with impeccable manners, a pleasant disposition, and a modern outlook. Also, I am 30-years-old, with no encumbrances and I like good company. What do you think?" I asked him.
"Wendy, when you put it like that, I think I will be happy to share with you. I am sure you will find my company also acceptable," he answered.
We swapped email addresses and after the call I sent him an email message suggesting we meet for coffee the following day at 2.00PM to discuss my photographic needs for that weekend. Within a minute, he had responded and suggested his favourite coffee shop. My replied briefly, "See you there. Wendy."
I prepared myself very carefully before meeting him, looking like I was a real business woman and a journalist.
As I entered the café, I saw a young man sitting alone looking towards the door. I walked up to him and asked, "Are you Colin?"
He said he was, adding, "When I saw you walk in the door, I was hoping you were Wendy. I am very pleased to meet you," he told me. We shook hands and I sat opposite him at a small round table at the rear of the café.
Coffees were ordered and I started talking about my plans and what images I wanted for the article I was writing. He seemed impressed. We settled down and soon chatted easily about other things, like how I became a journalist and I asked about his background as a photographer. We had a second coffee and spent a pleasant afternoon together making our arrangements. I gave him the motel details and assured him I would be always polite. I heard him say, "I shall be equally as polite to you."
As we walked outside, he said, "It has been a pleasure meeting you, Wendy, and I look forward to our business arrangements being fulfilled." We shook hands and parted. I wondered what he thought of me, but it didn't matter, I liked his style. I am sure we will get along very well.
The day before we were due to leave, I offered to take him in my car as it is a two-hour drive, my email read, "Give me your address and I will pick you up at 6.00PM so that long drive won't be too boring for either of us. Long trips seem quicker with company. Wendy."
His response was quick, "I agree," he included his address. "See you at 6.00PM. Colin F."
On Friday, I was getting excited at the prospect of a job and the opportunity to know Colin in the confines of my car. I arrived at his house just before 6.00PM and he was ready with a heavy camera bag and a tripod, which just fitted in the back of my car with my luggage.
As I started the car, I said, "I am glad you agreed to travel with me, Colin, it is a long drive alone. I did it last weekend to see where this place was and to get some idea of what photos I want you to take for me," I showed him my cellphone with some quick photos I had taken. "Here's what the place looks like," I added.
He sat quietly looking at the images as we drove onto the Eastern Highway. Neither of us spoke for some time, until he said, "Looks like an interesting place."
"I thought so, especially as the leaves are turning to red and gold," I confirmed. "You won't see anything tonight. It will be dark soon and the motel is about an hour from that park."
"Talking of tonight," he started, "Have you had tea yet?"
"No, I haven't but I know a great roadside truck stop in about 100 kilometres. I was planning to stop there for a meal," I told him.
"I didn't have time for food before, because I was getting my photography gear ready for you," Colin said.
"I must tell you I had a feeling of anticipation as I drove to your place. I realised I know nothing about you. Just your name on a business card I was given some weeks ago," I explained.
"Well, Wendy, that's more than I know about you, so I guess we are on even ground," he laughed jovially.
There was another silence before he asked, "What's your background, Wendy. Workwise I mean, not your personal stuff," he added, sounding a little uneasy, "Where have you been working?" It was a big question.
"I will explain all about me when we stop for a meal, we will have plenty of time because we still have 50 kilometres to go after the meal, before we get to the motel," I told him. He made general observations about the sunset, the road and talked about his travels. It was interesting, impersonal chatting between us until the large sign of the truck-stop beckoned us. "Here we are. I can smell the food already," I quipped.
Shortly after we arrived at the Truckers' Café, I parked the car.
"Gee, this place looks busy, with all the big trucks and all," Colin spoke as if in awe of the trucks.
"These are the best places to stop if you want good food," I told him. Then I thought about what he said, "Haven't you been to a truck-stop for meals before?" I asked and was surprised when he shook his head negatively. "Well, you are in for a big treat," I assured him.
We got out of the car and stretched our legs. I locked it and headed to the flashing lights that surrounded the entrance and we headed to the restrooms. "Meet you back here, when you are ready," I said and heading to the women's door.
We chose a table away from the noise of truckers laughing, joking and talking rather loudly, as they often do. Colin seemed out of place. He asked me, "You come here alone? With all these men?" he asked.
"Yes. Why not? Good food, good facilities, which you saw, it also has great menu choices."
I ordered our meals at the counter and brought back two cold beers for us to sip as we chatted.
It was idle chatter about where he had been and how this assignment was so far from his normal work areas.
"That's because I have to find work in places where no-one else has been to stay in business, so I look for interesting places that are not commonly known. You said you didn't know about the place before you saw the photos on my phone," I reminded him.
"That's because I had never heard of it either, but I see your reasoning. I hope my work lives up to your expectations," he said as though he was unsure of his ability.
"If this works out and I can sell the finished article to club magazines or camping magazines, you will be credited with the photography. That's how you get known in this business. For both of us, I mean." He smiled when I said that. Just then our meals arrived, and we started eating in silence.
Some of the truck drivers were heading to their big rigs, the noise level dropped and we were able to talk. "They will be well ahead of us by the time we get back on the highway, they have schedules to keep. We don't," I explained.
After some talk about cameras, family and travelling, all rolled into one, I asked him an important question. "Colin, when I asked you if you would mind sharing, you didn't seem too worried, other than I may kill you. But ignoring all that, I have to say the only room I could get at the only motel near the falls has only one double bed. Does that bother you?"
There was a silence and a smile crossed his face when he answered, "No, I'm good with that, but I didn't think you meant it when you asked me," Colin said, somewhat surprised. He went quiet as he drank the last of his beer.
"Colin, are you happy with that, or do we make other arrangements?" I asked.
"No, it's fine, but I didn't think you were that type of girl," he said.
"And what type of girl would that be, Colin? I am quite normal, I think, but if you have a problem, now is the time to tell me." I was getting concerned by his quietness.
"No, it was the way you told me; I was surprised. I had formed an opinion of you when we met for coffee and I was prepared to work with you, but I didn't think we would start the work by sleeping together. That's what you are suggesting, isn't it?"
"Either that, or one of us sleeps on the settee. I will tell you it gets cold in those high plains and you may like warm company. I know I would," I told him.
"OK. That's settled, I would enjoy sharing a bed with you, Wendy, but you don't know anything about me," he conceded.
"That's true, but I bet I will by tomorrow morning," I told him. I hoped my smile dispelled any anxiety.
I told Colin I was going to freshen up before we get back on the highway. He thought it was a good idea and we went in different directions. When we were back together, I saw he had a bottle of red wine with him. He held it up and said, "I thought you might like a nightcap before we hit the sack."
"What a great idea. Thank you, Colin," I said, as we headed out into the chilly night air for the final leg of our journey to the motel.
I was hoping Colin hadn't been scared off, but I did want him to feel comfortable with me before we reached the motel, so I started a conversation, "Colin, tell me about what you thought of me after our coffee date. I really want to know," I said.
"I don't think you would believe me if I told you," he said, trying not to answer. I urged him,
