A Girl Called Fate

Although what follows is a is a story, I have been to all the places mentioned except Chadegan. The world is full of architectural wonders built by people from many different cultures and beliefs. We all share planet Earth.

TheDok

Matthew

There are several events that I have experienced in my life when I still know exactly where I was when they occurred. I am not describing personal matters such as my first kiss, where I met my wife, or the birth of my son. I am describing events shared by millions, and I am certain that two of these events are remembered in the same way by anyone who is reading this story and was over eight years old when they happened. These events are Neil Armstrong setting foot on the moon, and 9/11. But there is a third event that, whilst widely shared at the time, now appears to be a foot note in history.

On Christmas Eve, December 24, 1968, after a journey of almost a quarter of a million miles lasting 68 hours Apollo 8 reached the moon and went into orbit around it. As they passed close over the lunar surface, and on their ninth orbit, the astronauts transmitted a live television broadcast and, as they showed live pictures of the earth and moon, Commander Frank Borman, Command Module Pilot Jim Lovell, and Lunar Module Pilot William Anders read excerpts from The Genesis.

And Jim Lovell said,

(the) "vast loneliness of the moon is awe inspiring, and it makes you realize just what you have back there on Earth."

At the time this was the most televised broadcast in history, and it is estimated that one billion people or a quarter of the world's population listened to the reading.

But an eight year old boy sat awestruck as if they were talking only to him. And that little boy was me.

In addition to each one of the events mentioned above, I have experienced five rare, similar, and unique occurrences; two of which are described later in this story.

1.Venice

I first met Bedisa in August 1980 when I was nineteen and on holiday In Venice.

A friend and I were staying in a campsite near Venice. As I remember it was somewhere in Fusina on the coast south of the causeway to Venice. It was not a particularly luxurious place, but it had a bar and a restaurant and clean showers and toilets, and for two teenagers that was enough.

That evening we had gone to sleep in our sleeping bags when the wind which had been increasing IN intensity over the last few hours started to cause the front flaps of our tent to move violently. Within half an hour the intensity increased, and it became apparent that we were in danger of losing our tent to the wind and we hurriedly dressed and reluctantly struck camp. And as we did, sheets of rain started to fall drive almost horizontally into our faces.

We quickly climbed into our old battered old car. David lay in the back on his sleeping bag which somehow he had managed to keep dry, He was a short guy and he appeared quite comfortable and despite the storm he was soon asleep. I on the other hand am six feet four inches tall and found it difficult to sleep in the cramped front seat.

Outside the car in the dark, I could see people with torches scurrying around desperately trying to stop their tents blowing away in the wind. In the far distance, about four hundred yards across the field, the lights of the bar flickered on, and I realised the campsite management were providing a place of sanctuary for those stuck outside with no shelter. I contemplated going there but then dismissed the idea. I did not want to get soaked through.

Suddenly I heard a tapping at the window next to me. After a moment of panic, I saw the form of a man in a raincoat gesturing to me. I rolled down the window and recognised him as the owner of a caravan that stood close by. He spoke with a French accent.

"You can't sit there all night. Why don't you and your friend join us in our caravan?"

I looked back at David, who was by then fast asleep, and replied,

"He's good thank you, but I'd like to join you if that's alright. Thank you so much."

A little later I found myself sitting at a table at the end of Professeure and Madame Le Blanc's caravan. They and their 14 year old daughter Bedisa and I drank tea as the wind blew and the caravan shook.

We spoke in English. He was a lecturer in mathematics at The University of Paris and she was an English teacher, and their English was fluent and put my schoolboy French to shame. Even Bedisa spoke passably good English having been tutored by her mother.

The professor explained to me that this storm was called the Bora and was a north easterly wind which often blew in the Adriatic sea.

After a while, the conversation turned to my plans for the future, and I proudly announced that I was starting an astrophysics course in the autumn.

After that, we started to discuss the Apollo moon landings and I explained how they had inspired me. And I described the profound effect that the Apollo 8 Christmas Eve broadcast had had on me, as the command module orbited the moon approaching to seventy miles above the lunar surface, and as Anders, Lovell, and Borman read in turn the opening verses of The Book of Genesis, and the earth rose over the moon's horizon.

And that was when my resolve to become an astronomer was born.

And sitting opposite me a gawky fourteen year old girl with braces listened attentively to everything I said. But I hardly gave her a glance.

A few hours later the winds started to lessen and soon after that the dawn broke. The campsite was devastated with trees blown over and windows in the bar broken, and everywhere tattered tents lay on the ground with all variety of objects including tent pegs and guy ropes, clothes, sleeping bags, cooking utensils, and pots and pans scattered about.

All that day we laboured to clear up the damage and in the evening the bar provided free beer as a thank you to those who had helped. David and I were happy to accept the gift and returned to our tent in the dark and half drunk.

Fortunately, we had had the foresight to put our tent back up earlier in the day and we slept until the following morning when the hot August sun made sleep impossible. And when I poked my head out of the front of the tent, the caravan with Bedisa and her parents had gone.

2. Paris

I did not think of that night again for many years.

By 1991 I had obtained my degree in Astrophysics and completed my doctorate with research into solar flares. I had become a solar astronomer and was newly employed as a lecturer.

That same year I was invited to take part in a seminar at the Paris observatory. I had given my lecture and was standing with a cup of coffee in my hand when I became aware of a young, tall, dark haired woman standing close by and trying to catch my attention.

"Thank you for an interesting talk Dr Hewitt."

And then.

"We've met before you know."

And as I looked quizzically at her.

"In a caravan in a storm in Venice. I was a little girl and you influenced me to become an astronomer. You've probably forgotten. You talked about Apollo 8 and earthrise. I'm Bedisa"

And memories of that night came flooding back.

"I remember," I said.

"How are your parents?"

"Good and still working. How long are you here for?"

"Today and tomorrow and I'm flying home the day afterwards. I've never seen Paris properly, so I thought I'd like to take the chance this time around."

"I'm sure my mum and dad would like to see you again. They still laugh about how a strange boy stranded in a storm influenced my life. Are you free this evening?"

"I've nothing planned."

"Give me a minute. Don't go away."

Then before I could reply she turned and left.

A few minutes later she returned. And as she put her phonecard back in her wallet she spoke.

"All set. Mum says 8 o'clock this evening. Don't dress up and come hungry. Here's the address."

She handed me a note.

"See you later.""

That evening I arrived at a fashionable address in the sixth arrondissement -- -Germain- Saint des-Prés. I rang the bell, a bottle of good red wine in my hand, and Bedisa met me at the door and invited me in. For the first time I appreciated what a beautiful young woman she had become. She was tall, with dark hair and amber eyes and I thought guiltily of my girlfriend waiting at home for me. I consoled myself with the thought that there had been no suggestion of impropriety and I was not having dinner with Bedisa alone.

Bedisa showed me through to the lounge where her mother and father greeted me warmly and then I was invited to the dinner table, which was filled with dishes, many of which I had never seen or eaten before. I learnt they were Georgian in origin, and that Bedisa's mums' family originally came from Tbilisi, the capital city of Georgia.

And this explained Bedisa's unusual name.

That evening I ate dolma, khachapuri (cheese-stuffed bread), khinkali, (Georgian soup dumpling), skewered meats, a variety of vegetable pickles, and various pastries.

And for the first time I drank Georgian orange wine.

We reminisced about the night of the Bora, and I talked about my present research and the Professor talked about his. The conversation ebbed and flowed, and It was clear how proud Bedisa's parents were of her. And soon the time came for me to take my leave and, after the usual promises to return the next time I was in Paris, I went to the door.

As I turned to leave Bedisa offered to show me Paris the following day and it seemed rude to refuse.

Promptly at nine the following morning. Bedisa appeared at the hotel reception. She asked me what I'd like to see and since it was a warm day in late Spring I suggested we walk. We started at Notre Dame and then visited Shakespeare & Company, the most famous English-language bookstore in Paris. From there it was a short walk to the Gardens of Luxembourg and after that we visited the Louvre. Following that there was just time to visit the Eiffel tower with its views over the city before we returned to my hotel, and I invited her to an early dinner.

She was perfect company, intelligent, interesting, and attractive. If I hadn't already had a girlfriend (and a strong sense of fidelity), if she hadn't been a student entertaining a visiting lecturer, and if I hadn't been leaving the country in the morning, I might have made a pass at her. But I didn't and at the end of a pleasant day I thanked her for a lovely day, and we shook hands and said our goodbyes.

I didn't expect to see her again. How wrong I was.

3. Agra

The next time I met Bedisa was in India at The Taj Mahal. It was 2 days before the total eclipse of the sun due at on the 24^th of October 1995 and we were both on our way to Fatephur Sikri where totality would be maximal, and which was about twenty miles away.

The Taj Mahal was built between1632 and 1653 by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan as the tomb of his wife Mumtaz Mahal. Both she and Shah Jahan lie buried in the central mosque. It was on the one of the terraces surrounding the mosque where I saw her first. She had her back to me, and I approached from the side to make sure I was right.

She turned. Her eyes wide.

"Matthew? What are you doing here?"

She laughed.

"What a silly question."

And then like old friends we walked around the terraces and reminisced, and I asked about her parents, and we discussed the upcoming eclipse which was due early in the morning when the sun would be low on the horizon.

Then all too soon it was time for us to re-join our respective teams and travel to Fatephur Sikri by road and set up our observation equipment. We parted with an agreement to meet later if possible and this time Bedisa gave me a peck on the cheek before she turned and left me.

The city of Fatehpur Sikri was founded as the capital of the Mughal Empire in 1571 by Emperor Akbar and completely abandoned in 1619. The city was built of red sandstone and the architecture is a mixture of Persian, Hindu, and Muslim styles and included a palace, gardens, an artificial lake, and the Jama Masjid, a mosque large enough to accommodate 10,000 worshippers.

When we reached the site it was already filling with thousands of tourists and a decision was made to view the eclipse away from the monuments of the city and away from hordes seeking to get the best vantage point. The French team did the same, but at a different location, and I did not see Bedisa again in India.

Nonetheless early in the morning Just after 8.30 am the moon totally covered the face of the sun for 59 seconds and the sky darkened, and Venus and Jupiter were both visible adjacent to the dark glowing disc.

And when the light returned Bedisa and I had "shared" our first total eclipse of the sun.

4. Isfahan

In June of 1999 I finished with my then current girlfriend. I had had several relationships over the years none of which had come to anything. The reasons for this were many and varied. They included separation when one or other of my ex-girlfriends moved away for a job, my long periods of enforced absence when traveling abroad, and often a lack of any real shared interest other than a desire to fuck. But there was also another factor and that was my inability to commit, and I now know that I had never been in love.

And then my thoughts turned to Bedisa. She had been a constant in my life for almost 20 years albeit very intermittently and for very short periods. But she was beautiful, intelligent, and appeared to like me. We had a very special shared bond. We were professional astronomers.

I started to wonder whether she would be observing the upcoming solar eclipse in August but knew that, if she were, she would almost certainly be in Isfahan in Iran since this was the place on the path of the eclipse with the lowest chance of cloud cover. There was a greater than 95% chance the sky would be cloud free in Isfahan in August.

I had already chosen the small resort of Chadegan for our observation site. This place is about sixty miles west of Isfahan close to a lake at an altitude of 8500 feet and would be only ten miles south of the centre of the path of the eclipse.

I made some enquiries and was extremely pleased to learn that the French observation team would also be in Chadogan, and now all I could do was wait.

On August the 7^th we flew into Tehran and the following day we flew on to Isfahan before driving to Chadegan in 4 x4 vehicles carrying our equipment. We booked into our hotel on the evening of the 9^th of August and then the following morning the French team arrived.

Then there she was. As she walked into the hotel reception she saw me standing and crossed the room to me and smiled.

"I've been waiting for you," I said.

"And I've been waiting half my life for you," she replied.

We were able to sit together at dinner that evening after a busy day setting up and calibrating our equipment and our cameras. She hadn't changed much. She was still stunningly beautiful. She still spoke English with a French accent. She still lived with her parents who were in good health. But she was now a newly appointed lecturer in astronomy at the University of Paris. And she was very straightforward in telling me she was unattached and seemed pleased when I told her that all of my relationships thus far had not ended well. We talked long into the night.

I pondered why it had taken me so long to understand I might have a future with Bedisa.

The following afternoon just before quarter past three the moon started to cross in front of the sun and the just after half past four darkness came the temperature dropped and shots rang out around us as some of the locals celebrated. The period of darkness lasted around one hundred seconds before the sun started to reappear from behind the moon and seventy minutes later the eclipse was over.

During the seconds of darkness my world changed for ever. Our equipment was recording and there was little to do but watch the eclipse and as everybody was distracted Bedisa stood next to me and just for a moment took my hand in hers and squeezed me softly and as I looked at her she kissed me softly and fleetingly on the lips.

She told me that her presence in Chadegan was not completely by chance but that she had learnt of my interest concerning where the French observation team would observe the eclipse. She had not intended to come to Isfahan until she had learnt I would be here.

Later in the hotel we were in the lift together alone and for thirty glorious seconds I was able to able to hold her beautiful body in my arms and kiss her long and deep. At that moment I longed to make love to her but Iran in 1999 was not a place where an unmarried man and woman could share a room in a hotel together and I knew that I must wait just a little longer.

The following day the teams returned to Isfahan, and we had all put aside a couple of days to see the city. Bedisa was staying in a different hotel to myself but nonetheless we were almost inseparable for the next few days. But we could not hold hands or touch on another as we toured that wonderful city.

The Iranians have a saying "Isfahan nesfe Jahan"- "Isfahan is half the world." Shah Abbas the Great he chose Isfahan as his capital when he became ruler of Persia's Safawid dynasty in 1587, and he had wanted to make it greater than all other cities.

It is a truly beautiful place. The huge Naqsh-e Jahan Square is the second largest square in the world and is the site of the 17th-century Imam (Shah) Mosque. We visited The Ali Qapu Palace and the elaborately tiled Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque. And we had lunch and dinner together and we walked and talked.

In the evening of the second day after dark we sat side by side on the softly lit Siosepol Bridge -- The Bridge of the Thirty Three Arches and listened to the beautiful voices singing. We did not sit close to each other. Bedisa was conservatively dressed in a long embroidered red dress that covered her arms and extended to her ankles and she wore a red headscarf with only a lock of her black hair visible. Her amber eyes shone in the light. And at that moment she was so desirable and yet so unattainable.

And then as we sat on that Persian Bridge I turned to her.

"Bedisa I love you. I've loved you for a long time, but I didn't know it."

"Please will you marry me? I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She smiled. It was a smile of complete joy.

"Oh yes Matthew! Oh yes! The sooner the better!"

As she spoke a young woman sitting a little way away, who must have overheard and understood, beamed across at us and clapped her hands together in excitement, And then she said something in Farsi to her group of friends who were sitting with her, and inside the vaulted bridge they sang an Iranian love song for us.

And as these total strangers serenaded our love, Bedisa and I sat without touching, but closer than we had ever been.

Early in the morning I bought her the ring from a local jewellers.

Then in the evening we flew to Tehran, and from there she flew to Paris, and a short while later I flew to London. This time however we had arranged to meet again.

5. Paris