Damper John

Around the campfire in Skipworth, Vic we are all a chatter when we are joined by a genial bloke who calls himself Damper John. John Fozard is a retired copper who lives on the road these days and winters in Exmouth WA at Bullara Station cooking damper and entertaining the tourists with his poetry and stories. And just in case you are wondering Exmouth is about 4,500kms away from Skipworth, that’s a bit more than a Sunday drive. Continue reading Damper John

Loose Ends

It’s 2014 and we are camped in the Coopernook State Forest in NSW. We chat with our neighbour who is from nearby Port Macquarie. Our neighbour and his wife have sold their house and have several months to wait for the new one to be built. They intend to go north in their camper trailer but have a few loose ends to tie up before they hit the road. Thus here they are 70 kilometres south of home waiting. One of the loose ends is our neighbour’s dying mother in law. Continue reading Loose Ends

The Bold and the Beautiful

It’s 2014 and we are camped in Port Douglas, Qld. We have neighbours who appear not to be all that compatible. She sits outside smoking and he can’t drag himself away from the TV inside. We refer to them as “The Bold & the Beautiful” and wonder how long they’ll last on the road together. We drive up to Cooktown and are thrilled that we have three whole days to spend there as it is an unusual town. We run into “The Bold & the Beautiful” and they are having a puncture repaired. They are unsure of how long the … Continue reading The Bold and the Beautiful

Me Back’s Buggered

We’re waiting at the Mansfield hospital to see a doctor. Both full of a chest infection and coughing our heads off it is indeed nice to lie down for a few minutes and just doze. In the opposite corner of the ward a woman’s voice complains to the nurse “Me back’s buggered.” It’s funny how things are triggered in your mind and my mind suddenly lurches back to Christmas Day in the late 90’s when we took our sick friend to Cobram hospital up on the Murray River and we returned to camp laughing our heads off at someone else’s … Continue reading Me Back’s Buggered

The Fisho’s Missus

The one commercial fisherman sells fish from his home in Wyndham and we have a hankering for a prawn lunch. We walk through the cyclone wire gate, across the dirt yard, between the mangrove tree, dog and an old bath tub on the right and the front end loader and dead car body on top of an orange shipping container on our left into the workshop. We step around the trail bike in bits on the floor and there’s the fisho’s missus packing up fish for the freezer. “Welcome to the processing works” she says. And this front yard is … Continue reading The Fisho’s Missus

Little Egypt

Being Saturday night there is a guitarist in the park and tables are scarce. A rather loud and slightly sozzled couple from down south move in on our somewhat squeezy table. Now grey nomads are normally a friendly lot but this was pushing things a bit far. He tells us that he knows music and has sung to 800 people. We’re thinking it must have been karaoke! She dances the Egyptian and flashes a bit of leg like one shouldn’t at an advanced age. Another table becomes available. We make a dash for it. Our group all breathe a sigh … Continue reading Little Egypt