As I sat in my hotel room, laptop open, making notes for this difficult journey, I struggled to find an appropriate title for this blog entry…

It seemed the title chose itself, as I maintained a brief journal about my experience completing my late wife’s wishes.

Anyone familiar with the Indie English Group Florence and the Machine will know this song debuted on their album Lungs, which is a reference to the Dogged Heat of summer coming to an end or difficult times abating …

Though up until today I’d always thought the lyric was, “The Dark Days are Over”… Which maybe fitting too…

In many ways this journey happened so very quickly… Too quickly, I hadn’t fully mentally prepared myself, but then again, on reflection could you ever truly be ready for something like this?|

I wish I had known months in advance that I would be cleared to fly. This would have enabled me plan the final journey better. Friends know I’ve had multiple health issues and complications since Janice’s passing.  Throughout all this (and their support), I’ve been working through the list Janice gave me as health and circumstances allowed. I suspect many of the tasks she did, to keep me occupied after her death.

Of all the things Janice asked me to do, there was one that stood above all else, Her final wish… Janice asked me to take her ashes to her chosen resting place… Australia…

She had always wanted to live there for as long as I’d known her (I regret not looking into migrating sooner), for she wanted to live with the Kangaroo’s and Koala’s. Which incidentally, was my first choice of title for this post “Kangaroos and Koala’s”. My wife asked me to take her to a very specific spot. It was close to her heart and frankly does have spectacular views of the ocean and wildlife.

For several years, I have been unable to fly or go on holiday due to health complications. In December, with the latest medical tests completed, including two cancer scares in as many years, I was finally cleared to obtain travel insurance.

Apparently, you can’t get travel insurance whilst undergoing medical testing, even with the specialists firms. Given the extreme events I’ve been through, I certainly wasn’t going to run the risk of such travel without insurance.

Janice loved the summer, and she wished her ashes to be taken during the Australian Summer.  We’d travelled Australia together about twelve years ago, loving every minute of the experience. Especially given cold winters in Europe, what a better time to spend for December and January.

As I write, I’m awaiting three major surgeries which I expect to start within the next 12 months. With this in mind, I couldn’t risk waiting for my health to reach the best it could, as it would delay this further by at least two if not three years assuming all went well. It was the first week in December. Which marks the start of Summer Season in Australia. I had very little time to get my act together to quickly plan the trip of a life time.

It literally was a case of now or never, to get everything in place to complete her final wish and take her ashes to her final resting place. Why? the major surgeries will mean it would delay my ability to fly for a further few more years at least. Given my luck of late, it’s a huge risk, and I’ve felt like I’ve been letting her down for years due to my own personal situation.

Given the very short notice, I arranged flights, transport, car hire and ferries… It was then I realised I could never be a travel agent, that was far too stressful and took way longer than it should… If there was ever a strong use case for AI, this is certainly it. (Sorry professional Travel Agents)…

Within days, everything was sorted (as much as it could be). That’s when it hit me, like a punch to the stomach from Mike Tyson, the reality of what I was about to do finally sank in… I had to notify the airlines that I was carrying ashes and complete their processes. You aren’t allowed to take the remains in the original urn, and needed to be “Decanted” to suitable flight safe container. For this I visited the Funeral Directors once again for help, and they were amazing. I explained the situation and they said they will help.

A slight panic as the scatter tubes were too tall for the dimensions quoted by the airline. The funeral director found a solution that was workable. Given the length of time that had passed, I wasn’t expecting grief to hit me again like a tidal wave… Uncontrolled sobbing, and the team at the funeral directors were again amazing. When they brought the decanted remains in the flight safe packaging, they asked me to check everything was ok. As soon as they opened the lid of the box, I broke down, I saw the ashes, Janice’s Ashes, and suddenly it was as though I’d lost her all over again. Both the funeral director and receptionist reached for the tissues, even they who deal with grief everyday, seemed moved. They were extremely kind and supportive.

Now, with Flights booked, bags packed, documentation readied, passport in hand, it was time to fly… My nerves were on edge and feeling sick because I’m close to the end of a long journey…

The car came to pick me up for drop off at the hotel near the airport. My driver, a retired IT guy, now in his 70s was telling me, he too was widowed at the age of 42, his late wife was 37 when she passed.  What are the chances of this? Two Widowed and Young people meeting so randomly…

It became a very emotional journey as we shared many parallel experiences dealing with illness and death. I asked if he dated again, to which he said yes… The person he dated after his wife passed basically tried to take his house, money the whole nine-yards…  Very interesting I thought as I’ve been through that very same experience with (what I now know to be) a very corrupt ex. more on that in a later post.

I arrived at the hotel and immediately panicked, thinking I’d left my passport behind… I was apprehensive as it’s been a while doing anything solo. I checked into the hotel, my flight was scheduled for very early next day. Sure I could have travelled on the morning, though I didn’t want to leave any chances of road delays, accidents etc. The check-in queue was huge, mainly Japanese and Chinese tourists, so I assume a connecting flight had disembarked recently and I’d timed it wrong.

Once I’d gotten to my room and stowed my luggage, I wandered into the airport, checking the distance from hotel to checkin desk, grabbed some snacks, and returned to my room. Given the early start, I was in bed well before 9pm, however, I was woken up by a vivd hyper-realistic dream. Have you ever had one of these?

In this dream, Janice was there… We were in a pub having a drink, reminiscing about our time together, laughing, joking and generally having a very enjoyable time together. She stood up and gave me a big hug.  I gave her a huge hug back, holding on so tightly, but as I pulled back, something felt… different. My hands brushed against two small stumps on her back. Confused, I looked at her and asked, “You OK?”, She directly looked me in the eyes, smiled full of love and said, “not to worry about it, it’s all good, we should focus on our time together”.  We kept talking, laughing, holding onto each moment. Then, just before she pulled me in for what I know now as the final biggest hug, I heard it… Dog Days Are Over… playing from the pub jukebox. The sound of it filled the room, growing louder, clearer… Loud enough to wake me with the song still echoing in my head.

Jumping forward slightly to the first flight, I scrolled through the inflight entertainment, there it was, the film “Dog Days” right on the first page. Another sign? possibly, though at this point, the coincidences were starting to feel like something more…

I sat there, fully awake now, the tears streaming, the weight of it all, grief, love and memories poured out of me… it was around 3am… before the realisation hit, it was all a dream…

I don’t recall hearing the song recently, it’s not on my playlists, nor anyone in the hotel playing that song I could hear. I can’t explain it, other than how vivid the experience was.

After a very quick breakfast, and the realisation I may miss the flight (I’d misread the documentation), I panicked, pulled on my big boy pants, checked out and made my way to the airline check-in desk.

As part of airline requirements, I’d notified the airline a few days in advance that I would be carrying Janice’s Ashes, and ensured confirmation was recorded properly. I also carried the appropriate documentation as advised by the Australian Consulate and carrier-Airlines.

At the check-in desk, I placed the container with Janice’s Ashes and burst into tears. The airline people were super lovely, sympathetic and patient, informed me what I need to do etc, before heading towards security.

Going through airport security and X-Ray, I burst into tears again… The security guard was very empathetic to my situation, he lost his father recently and a close friend to Sepsis.  They gave me some water, and made sure I was ok.

The security guy said, some people add jewellery and perfume to the ashes. I then panicked, thinking have I let Janice down by not doing the same? It kinda made sense, but he assured me that he was happy I didn’t as it would be traumatic enough to remove those items. So…

Don’t add anything to the ashes should you find yourself in the position to make the trip.

Eventually I boarded the flight. The flight crew were amazing! Airlines add a small code to your boarding pass, discretely notifying the crew you’re carrying human remains.

I had more than a few moments of tears on the first leg of the journey. The flight attendants noticed and checked in on me, they were genuinely thoughtful and kind. With less than an hour to change flights, I squeezed in a quick shower before boarding the final flight to Australia.

Somewhere over the ocean, the strangest thought hit me. The stumps on her back… What if they were her Angel wings? I know it was just a dream. The mind is an incredible thing… finding patterns, making connections that may not even be real. But… the thought of it… was enough to break me again. I tried to hide my tears, but the air steward noticed and came to talk to me. That flight, I saw a different side to them.

In so many ways I don’t want to do this, as there’s a finality about the process, that I was unsure I was ready for.  I know the real finality was when cancer took her, when she drew her last breath. I planned the funeral alone, with no support from her family. You could say the crematorium was the final final… but in so many ways, she’s still been with me.

For years, I’ve felt like I let her down. Like I failed her by not getting her ashes to where she wanted to be. I promised to take her, and my word means everything to me. I know it wasn’t my fault, health issues prevented me from flying, but that doesn’t stop the guilt. It doesn’t stop me from feeling like I failed her.

After 25 hours of flights and waiting, I finally arrived in Australia. I collected my bags and headed to customs. At customs, I wasn’t sure whether the ashes needed to be declared. The security agent, a woman in her mid-20s, was incredibly understanding. She had lost her own mother to cancer just a few months ago. She helped me navigate the process, offering quiet reassurance, before I headed to the car hire centre to collect my rental and drive to the next hotel.

With a few days to kill before the ferry, I wandered the city, trying to keep myself occupied. But some things find you whether you’re looking for them or not. I deliberately booked a different hotel, far from where Janice and I had stayed before… too many memories there. Fate, as it turns out, had other plans…

I brought a book for a friend who lives in Australia, since it would work out cheaper posting it to him when I arrived in Australia (quicker too), than it would be from home. I went to look for an Aussie Post outlet. According to Google Maps, there was a post office open 24 hours. My friend said they don’t and only work Monday-Friday.

It was Sunday morning, I chose to walk to the post-office, following the map, I ended up walking past the hotel we originally stayed in, twelve years previously, and … bang… My chest tightened, the tears came fast, and just like that, I was a mess… Sure enough the post office was indeed closed, the only 24 hour access was the two postboxes outside the building… Which is useless if you don’t have the stamps…

Deflated and in pain due to my hip and knee, I slowly made my way back to the hotel, taking every opportunity to sit and ease the physical pain.

When booking this trip, I had to make last minute changes as the ferry needed to take me to the island wasn’t available for at least a week, which was frustrating… I’d already booked the flights and couldn’t easily change the dates, and didn’t expect issues with a ferry service that runs hourly…

I don’t know why, back at the hotel, on a whim, I checked out the ferry schedule again. No idea why, maybe instinct? To see if there were any cancellations or an earlier ferry… as luck? would have it there was one for the next day! Yay! But… I had to check for accommodation availability as well as the island had very limited options when I booked and some days nothing was available… I had to line up prospective hotels before I could change the Ferry dates.

I contacted the ferry company and long story short, they were unsure if they could accommodate the hire car as they have some kind of issue with Hybrid-Electrics…

As I waited for the call back, I did something I never usually do. I shut my eyes tight, and whispered… “Janice, help me out here”. A few minutes later, my phone rang. I let out a deep breath. The ferry was confirmed. I was set to travel the next day… I spent the next couple of hours changing reservations and bookings, quite pleased as it meant I could spend more time on the island than the city.

The scenic ninety minute coastal drive from the city centre to the ferry port was amazing and calming. A combination of a hot day, warm coastal breeze, music playing in the car, was magical. I arrived in plenty of time for boarding the ferry. This was my first time driving a car onto a ferry… that was an experience I can tell you!

The crossing took around and hour on the sea. The crossing was smooth. I sat on the upper deck, feeling the sea breeze against my skin, letting the gentle rocking of the ferry lull me into thought. The ocean stretched endlessly ahead… calming, yet weighted with everything I knew I had to do. I could almost picture Janice beside me, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the water, just like she always did. The moment was beautiful… yet unbearably lonely. No one asked why I was travelling alone, everyone kept themselves to themselves. I looked out for sea-life, I think I saw the odd Dolphin, playfully race the ferry. I know how much Janice would have enjoyed seeing this.

Eventually the ferry arrived at the island, and as instructed, returned to my car awaiting my cue to disembark. I set the satnav to head to the first hotel and set off.

It took about another 90 minutes or so to reach the place I would be staying. It’s worth mentioning that the island suffered a severe fire in 2019/2020 affecting much of the island. This was evident with sights of burnt trees. It was devastating for the wildlife and people living here, Apparently trees will recover but will take years to regenerate.

Somewhere along the rough, unadopted roads, I spotted something absurd…Santa. On a barrel! I couldn’t help but smile. For a brief moment, the weight of everything lifted, and I let myself enjoy the ridiculousness of it. But just as quickly, the memories came flooding back. The first time we saw this, how we laughed about it for days. The realisation hit like Mike Tyson again… I wasn’t sharing that laughter with her this time. I pulled over, gripping the wheel, waiting for the wave of grief to pass before I could keep going.

I arrived at the hotel, and it was just as friendly as I remember it, there’s a story behind the hotel for us both, and maybe I’ll save that for another day… The reception staff were friendly, helpful and the room was just lovely.

As it was quite late when I arrived at the hotel, I remembered the island rule about not driving just before dusk, since the wildlife are the most active then, and notorious for leaping in front of and damaging your car, I settled into my room, had a shower, nap, before heading to the restaurant for something to eat.

Tomorrow would be a long day.

Thankfully it was a little cooler on the Island, around 25 degrees that day as opposed to 38 the day before in the City…

After some sleep, I headed down for breakfast, picked up a map from reception, and carefully placed Janice’s ashes in the car. I couldn’t risk leaving them in the hotel, what if housekeeping knocked the container over? Or worse… thought it was rubbish? So I set her beside me on the seat. It almost felt like she was coming along for the ride.

Today’s plan was just a recky, to see if the place she wanted to be scattered was still accessible. I wasn’t expecting to say goodbye. Not yet.

This was surprisingly harder than I thought…

After a while, I found the location, drove as far as I could, before walking to the final place to look. It was windy that day, really windy… There was absolutely no one around, yet despite the wind it was peaceful…

Something took over. I don’t even remember deciding. One moment, I was just standing there. The next, I was back at the car, picking up her ashes. I walked back to her spot, stood there for a while, and then… it just happened.

The wind carried her into the landscape she loved, the place she dreamed of resting. She was home. With the Roos and Koalas, just as she wanted.

The wind suddenly changed direction. A swirl of ashes whipped back towards me, catching in my throat—I choked, coughed.

I’m sure if Janice was watching, she’d be laughing, though I felt so paralysed at that point in time…

I was in shock, as i could see the larger particles move around the ground with the wind. Some of them on the platform near me… In my panic, I found a tree branch oddly shaped like a brush… and used that to sweep the area to help the ashes blend with the landscape…

I had no idea I was doing this today, I was trying to work out whether to scatter her ashes at the start or end of the trip, and which would be best, I just didn’t know… But I think whatever made me go into autopilot took that decision for me.

*** Spoiler Alert *** for every day I returned to her spot, there was always people around, meaning it would have been difficult to achieve with any privacy.

I spent an hour talking to the island…. Sang the song “You are my Sunshine”, before heading back to the car… Why this song? Many year ago when we were dating, Janice called me at work and sang this to me. I never forgot, and used this in my wedding speech and sadly her Eulogy, so it seemed fitting at the time, except my sunshine has been taken away.

And then, it hit.

The grief I thought I’d prepared for. The grief I thought I had under control. Came in a tsunami, dragging me under.

The face contorting, stomach-punching, breath-stealing kind of grief. The kind that makes you howl, that rips through your muscles until you’re physically in pain.

And just like that… just like day one… I was back in it. And it didn’t stop…

I had to try and calm down before starting the car and decide what to do …

My phone was set to play random music, as it always does. But that day, something was… off.

Neither of us believed in an afterlife, but throughout my time on the island, strange little things kept happening. Songs I hadn’t added to playlists. Tracks that had no reason to play.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say Janice was messing with me. But maybe that’s just how grief works. Maybe that’s how we look for them when they’re gone.

As I pulled away, Perfect Life by Steve Wilson came on… A song I’d never heard before… I’ll add youtube links to some of the songs that played…

This went on for the day… I swear she was telling me something… but then the mind plays tricks…

I drove around that day, in a haze, trying to find coffee and retrace some steps… Absolutely nothing went to plan that day. Nowhere was open. I couldn’t find the wildlife sanctuary, so, by late afternoon I was quite thirsty. I headed back to the hotel and found a cafe nearby for cake and latte.

That evening, I bought a bottle of wine. I very rarely if ever drink these days, and raised a glass to Janice.

It was an Australian Jammy Red Roo wine, I took a couple sips and ended up throwing it all away. Not that it wasn’t nice, I just didn’t fancy drinking… I was still feeling Numb, and element of panic, Could I/Should I have done more? Would she be proud or happy with today? Should I have waited longer?

It was a strange night indeed…

I will spare you with details of the rest of the trip… Though will explain the final ferry journey back to the city.

After spending time on the island, revisiting places Janice loved, places we didn’t get time to see the last time we were there, it was time to leave the island. This was particularly hard, I knew the day was coming, and despite visiting Janice’s spot on the island most days, I knew I would leave here there.

On my way to the ferry, I made one final stop. Janice’s spot. The place where I let her go, and now, where I had to leave her behind.

As on every other day, it was busy… people visiting, taking in the beauty of the place she now called home. So I waited…

When the last person left, I stepped forward. Stood in the very place I had let her go. And, for the last time, I spoke to her.

I played on my phone U2’s Beautiful Day, she loved U2 and this was the song she chose for her funeral when people were leaving to the Garden of Remembrance.

Out in the ocean, three dolphins appeared.

The middle one swam ahead, the other two just slightly behind, like they were escorting it. They glided close to the white sand beach, lingered for a moment… just long enough for me to notice… then, just as playfully as they arrived, they vanished into the deep.

A coincidence.

But even so…

The song ended. My time here was up.

I made my way back to the car, my eyes already burning with fresh tears. Took a deep breath, tried to steady myself, and turned the ignition.

And then… the opening notes of November Rain filled the car. Another song I hadn’t heard in a while.

That was it. The opening notes of November Rain filled the car—the signature riff, swelling, unfolding in a way only that song can.

I had held it together for as long as I could. But now… the floodgates opened. I cried my way to the ferry port.

The ferry journey back to the city felt different. On the way over, I had been filled with purpose. Determined. Focused on what I had to do.

Now? It was over. And for the first time since I arrived, I had nothing left to do.

I found a seat near the front of the ferry window, near the bar, facing forward, avoiding eye contact with the other passengers. And as the waves carried me back, I sat there, quietly sobbing, lost in everything that had just happened.

Back in my car, waiting to disembark. I reached for the ignition, ready to go.

Then… U2. Pride (In the Name of Love).

A coincidence. A message from the ether.

Either way, it played. And I listened…