PAMELA O’CUNEEN – A journey of love, travel, and self-discovery

Few people have lived a life as rich in adventure, romance, and transformation as Pamela O’Cuneen.

Leaving Australia in the 1960s for a "working holiday" in Europe, she never returned, instead embarking on a journey that took her from studying at the Sorbonne to navigating the complexities of love with a man whose heart was bound by religious vows.

In her latest memoir With All My Soul, she shares the extraordinary story of her travels, her deep connection to Italy, and a love that defied expectations.

Now in her 80s, Pamela remains as vibrant and full of stories as ever. We sat down with her to talk about her adventures, the challenges of being a woman forging her own path, and the magic of a life well-travelled.

Pamela O’Cuneen © Tim Stubbings Photography

Pamela, your journey began as a two-year working holiday in Europe, yet you never returned to Australia. What was it about Europe that made you stay?

Coming to Europe was strange but magical. I had dreamed about European culture for so long, yearning for the art, music, history and literature I had read about since childhood. In England I had the expectation of working and earning enough money to continue travelling. The ambition to work was fulfilled easily enough - the earning of sufficient money to travel not so much. But one thing led to another, I made a meaningful and supportive group of friends, and began various forms of cultural, spiritual and psychological exploration - and London slowly revealed its own excitements.

You describe arriving in Europe with starry-eyed expectations. How did the reality of travel compare to your imagination?

As I describe in the book, the reality of travel did not always equate to the dreams of my imagination. At best it was exciting and very different, at worst it could be scary, challenging and often cold! Venturing into new countries, alone, tackling new transport systems, finding my way in other cultures and languages. As I wrote in my book With All My Soul, “Paris was not built of rose-gold stone. It did not shimmer as it did in impressionist paintings. Paris in the spring was not the lovers delight I had been led to imagine, but a grey and icy city where the winds blew through my Australian coat and where my Australian shoes let in the water from seemingly permanent puddles”. And yet, there were times of excitement when all those years of reading and dreaming brought true magic to what I was seeing.

Italy seems to have captured your heart. What was it about the country and its people that resonated so deeply with you?

The chapter in my book about Italy is called “Bella Italia”. After a cold riot filled spring in Paris, full of tear gas and revolution, the sun and cheerfulness of Italy was a revelation. People shouted and chatted to each other, there was joie de vivre in the streets, and a positive excitement in the air. Perugia itself was like a fairytale city on a hill, layered with history of the Etruscans, the Romans, the medieval popes. Every ancient building contained art treasures. Footsore women with their shopping bags would sit down in churches for a chat beneath priceless works by Raphael. I loved the breathless excitement of Italian lectures in the Università per Stranieri, the ice-creams, the coffee, the buzz of the evening passeggiata down the main street. There was an energy that filled the senses.

You met your future husband in Perugia while he was a Catholic priest. Can you take us back to that moment—what was it about him that made such an impact?

I had noticed him for a couple of weeks at the University. A tall, handsome young man, dressed casually in an open-necked shirt. He had black hair and arresting brown eyes which always seemed to be laughing or gazing into the distance. He usually chatted with another young man, an American with film star looks. But it was the brown eyes that drew my attention. I heard that his companion was an evangelical missionary learning Italian so that he could “convert” the Italian populace and presumed the brown-eyed man was part of the team. Mentally, I christened him “The evangelical missionary with the far-seeing eyes.”  It was only when he appeared at a University student church service in full dog-collar that I realised he was a priest.

By coincidence we sat next to each other one day at a lecture. From the moment we spoke we seemed to have known each other forever. He was a man, not a boy. We both loved studying and Italian was his fourth language.  He had a quick sense of humour, and a fund of stories from Africa that fascinated me. Both of us liked to talk about things that mattered to us. Day by day our eyes would meet and we would gravitate to the window between lectures to chat.

Your love story is filled with longing, separation, and reunion. What was the most challenging part of navigating a relationship with such high stakes?

Hmmm. The relationship itself was challenging, since once we realised we were in love, with that realisation came turmoil and the knowledge that because of his vows the relationship could never come to fruition. And yet we were passionately drawn together. In total we spent only a brief time together, short meetings over a period of two years, but it was enough to know that we were soulmates. And that it was impossible.

Kieran’s decision to return to Africa and cease all contact was more than challenging. It was devastation. Probably, the most difficult aspect was that I had no idea he was equally devastated. For seven years I thought he had washed his hands of me, but nevertheless, no matter who I was with, I was his, heart and soul. I was not expecting to hear from him after seven years of silence!

In With All My Soul, you also paint a vivid picture of 1970s Britain. What were the most striking cultural contrasts between your time in Italy and your life in the UK?

I describe my first impressions of Britain in the book. From a summer of sunshine, excitement and laughter, Britain in 1968 was as though the world had gone from colour to black and white. Arriving in England I found not only Stately Homes, tea and scones but a cold, grey country. London still contained weed-covered bomb sites. The buildings were black with soot and there was a serious litter problem. Instead of being surrounded by Italians in the street, who often resembled faces from Old Master paintings and dressed in tailored elegance with stunning leather shoes, I found in this new country that the streets were filled with pleasantly plain folk, wearing shapeless jackets they called ‘anoraks’ and serviceable shoes from a shop called Clarks. It hinted at a different attitude to life. I was interested in the historical aspects of London, but life was much harder and seamier. I learned that my Australian friendliness did not go down well with English people, and sensed people backing off. And after the months of French and Italian cafés, the pale grey liquid that masqueraded as coffee in England was a trial!

Your memoir captures both the joy and difficulties of forging an unconventional path. What advice would you give today to young women who dream of adventure but fear the unknown?

My advice to any young person who dreams of adventure is always to ‘go for it!’. The joy of seeing a new place for the first time is unique and cannot be repeated, particularly if it is a place one has dreamed of visiting.

However, I also feel that modern-day travel, while in some ways easier and more accessible, also holds more danger than it did in the 60s and 70s. Those were the days when young people happily hitch-hiked across Europe or set off with a Eurail-pass in their hands. And it was a time before drugs were a fact of life and sexual mores were different. While I marvel at some of the situations I walked into and out of with naivety and innocence ( I once, inadvertently, booked into a brothel in Luxembourg), I would probably take more precautions now and would certainly prefer to travel with a companion - and maybe a bit more caution.

You’ve written about your experiences as a diplomat’s wife, a teacher, a psychologist, and now as a memoirist. How has storytelling helped you make sense of your journey?

Storytelling and writing a memoir always involves reflection on the past, and inevitably patterns begin to appear.  In the act of writing, we see how significant events in the past have created a back-wind that swept us in one direction or another. We see who we were and how we reacted to situations - for better or worse. Some things we could have done better, but we learn that, at any time, we made the best decisions we could make, bearing in mind who we were then. Above all, the journey of describing and reflecting on the past has resulted in both delight and self-forgiveness.

Looking back, do you believe in fate? Was your journey in love and life something you were destined for, or did you shape it through your own choices?

That’s an interesting one. I would have to say both. Nature or nurture? Fate or accident? We come with inherited characteristics and develop desires and tendencies as we grow. There may be a grand plan for our lives, but that is influenced by the choices we make along the way. Who knows how our lives would have changed if we had turned a corner ten minutes earlier or later or, in my case, if I had not put those books on a seat in a lecture hall in Perugia and Kieran had not been drawn to sit next to them. How extraordinary that we should have been so perfectly attuned to each other from our first conversation. How extraordinary that from far corners of the world we decided to be there that summer, at that moment in our lives.

From your writing we sense you remain full of energy and curiosity. What’s next for you? Are there more stories you’re eager to tell?

Each time, on finishing a book, I have felt “Well, that’s it then, I’ve told all my stories now.” And then after some time, the next one begins to take shape in my mind.

I have often said that I hope to be still learning and growing when I am 90. It’s closer than it used to be! And yes, after this book I do sense behind the screen that perhaps there are other stories to be told.  Let’s wait and see.

In the cover: With All My Soul
Images courtesy of Chiselbury Publishing