Not Ready..? Huh!?

When Claudia arrived in early December 1999, I had wanted to have a car and a flat. A con-man at a 2nd-hand car dealer made the car bit difficult, but the flat was there. I had found a lovely little place in leafy, convenient Paddington with the most wonderful landlord and a pool on a really quiet street. I was beside myself with excitement when Claudia came out. I had filled the flat with every delicacy that I could think of, there were flowers, the place had been scrubbed from top to bottom. I had wheels in the form of a loaned Mazda 323 while I waited for my other vehicle to be sorted out. My heart was swooping and soaring on thermals of delight and happiness. After a tough year managing the transition from backpack to suburb, I was a happy man.

Claudia arrived at 06h30 and was terribly jetlagged. I dropped her at home and rushed off to work. It took a few days for her to find her feet, which I understood perfectly. People often remark that travelling to Australia from Europe worse for jet-lag than the other way around. She had the sunshine, a lovely garden and the pool to help her recover while I went off to work each day. She relaxed like this for ten days until we closed up at work for the Christmas and New Year break. By then I had the vehicle I wanted and we could head off for a spot of camping.

Although she had a lot of time to herself and I been careful not to upset her, Claudia seemed a little cold in the beginning. It struck me as a bit strange given that she had had the courage to give up her job, flat and, essentially, her life in Germany to come out and live with me. There had been no passionate lovemaking to celebrate our reunion. I tried not to read anything into this and struggled gamely not to appear a hormone-enraged bull. After a year of dream and fantasy serving as buildup, it was very difficult. The reason that Claudia gave for this was that she "was not ready". No more than that. Just "not ready". This continued for almost a fortnight during which time we slept together, but with no sexual intimacy. I was happy to go camping when we finally got the car as I had taken to masturbating into the bathroom sink quietly each night so that I did not become too much of a nuisance at bedtime. That way Claudia got the cuddle she wanted and I fell asleep without a raging erection causing me terminal insomnia. It was very difficult for me, but I did not want to mess things up and my love was big enough and my respect for her feelings was strong. Of course, now, with benefit of hindsight, I just wonder if she had been running away from something rather than coming out to me.

Eventually on a trip over Christmas to Roma, away out in the West of Queensland, we made love. The setting was terrible, we were in the back of our Nissan patrol, forced to sleep there by rains that were too heavy to allow a tent to be pitched. The sex was obviously not great, but there was the novelty of curious kangaroos peering in the windows. I had had a full battery of sexual health tests done before Claudia came out and I put the lab reports in a discreet, yet obvious place for her to see. She assured me that for my part I should not worry as the last man she had unprotected sex with was this doctor she had the affair with in 1998. I accepted that. Claudia was on the pill when she came back to Australia. It was great not to have to use condoms. Unfortunately, we both soon developed a rash which we put down to the awful dampness, heat and humidity. This, combined with the fact that we were washing ourselves from a bucket as we camped rough, seemed to make sense and we assumed it would clear up upon our return to Brisbane. Later we decided that our use of Wet-Ones as a means of cleaning ourselves after sex was probably the main reason for this rash.

Despite all this, we were both very happy and enjoying ourselves. This is proof that our love was strong, and things that loom large in my mind right, now were just little glitches in our new life together back then.