Poetic Justice

We’re scooting across the Hay Plains, when the phone rings, it is the sergeant from Dareton Police Station ringing to tell us that the fellow who let loose with gunshots in the caravan park at Buronga last year has been in custody ever since and has now been given a two and a half year sentence. Apparently his exploits were known to the police. Here’s a link to the original story: You Should Try Caravanning… and the resulting poem There’s Movement at the Van Park . Well isn’t everyone prompted to write poetry when someone is running amok with a gun? Continue reading Poetic Justice

The Biker

There is a charming young English biker fellow camped in a tent beside us in Bourke. His name is Andy and his motor bike has broken down. If that isn’t bad enough it is only the first day of his three week outback trip. To add to this he has only just joined NRMA and the rules state that he can’t ring for Roadside Assistance until Monday. He must be a member for 48 hours before requesting assistance. He’s hoping for a 160km lift down to Cobar as that is the nearest motorcycle repairer. Probably scariest of all is his … Continue reading The Biker

Spending a penny and learning a lot

Gunnedah in country NSW has a Dorothea Mackellar memorial because she was inspired to write part of her much loved poem “My Country” in 1905 when she visited one of her family’s properties at Gunnedah. The good folk of Gunnedah have taken things a little further by engraving poems on the backs of the public toilet doors. One can choose which poet they’d prefer to read as the names are on the outside of the door. Now after we compared our photos I have a sneaking suspicion that the poets match the gender of the toilet, but that is only … Continue reading Spending a penny and learning a lot

Causeway Lake

We stop at Causeway Lake near Yeppoon in Queensland and I chat to fishermen who are working the ebb tide. They show me how to use a bait pump and they are sucking Nippers out of the mud. Nippers look like a white yabbie half the size of your little finger but with one giant pink claw as long as their body. Soldier crabs skitter across the sand nervously even though no one is interested in them. The water from the lake gushes out to sea at a fair speed and the fish are biting. Those nippers must taste damned … Continue reading Causeway Lake