Australian Adventure

Episode 9

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...in which our intrepid hero takes a well-earned fortnight off, notches up two more Australian states, lumbers drunkenly through the jolly famous Jacob's Creek fighting off a plague of locusts, and is accused of being the man in the Santa suit.

This holiday was brought to you by the numbers 45 (degrees celsius) and 200 (kmh), and the letter 'O' ("O my god I've eaten *far* too much").

And so we're into '98. It'll be the year 2000 before you know it and I'll be 30! This new year was welcomed in in Perth, on the far left of Australia (or "west" as they like to say on the maps). My new year's resolution was to find an air conditioner and stay under it forever - but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Eve and I took a two week trip knockin about the dry'n'sandy parts of the country, visiting our folks and generally being lardy. In fact the unthinkable has happened and Karl no longer holds the venerable position of heaviest person in the office. Evidently every time I was contemplating a fourth piece of Xmas cake he was whizzing up and down Manly promenade on his roller blades. No matter - the gauntlet is thrown, the challenge is set, first person below 100kg is top doggy-dog. As I understand it, if I jump up and down any bits that jiggle have got to go. I trust that firmly supportive underwear is permitted during this test...

So what was the holiday like? You can get the feel from the following memory core dump: hot Hot HOT - wild roos - fast car - empty country roads - abandoned villages - lizards & geckos - Barossa vineyards - locust plague - Germans - gold mine...

Notable excursions included a trip to Wilpena Pound, a 16km wide bowl shaped depression ringed by rocky hills, caused by some strange erosion over hundreds of centuries. The scarce rain runs into the bowl and has created an oasis in the otherwise deserty surroundings.

En route to Wilpena the roads were all but deserted, so we took advantage of the fact that Budget had bumped us up a grade to a six cylinder whizz machine. Faced by a flat straight road running to the horizon and no sign of any other vehicles Eve said "let's see what it can do", and pressed pedal to medal (or plush carpet, to bring the saying up to date). What it did was more than 200kmh, but that was the point at which a corner began to loom, and we needed a kilometer to slow down to a legal speed. I managed 180kmh on the return journey before I lost my nerve - this wasn't on nice wide smooth motorway either, just single lane country road with sand on either side. Socialy irresponsible? Probably, but it lets me feel virtuous for the other 364 days of the year.

Dotted along the same road were quite a number of solitary chimney stacks, all that remains of the stockholders houses, usually built of hessian and wood. Some of the the stone built ones are equally derilict. No mistake, this is pretty inhospitable country even with an air conditioned car and an eski full of chilled drinks. The idea of living out there full time with no power of any sort is hard to grasp. Even the tarmac on the roads was relatively new; the maps that Eve had from when she lived in SA 7 years ago still had them marked as dirt tracks.

I met up with Eve's parents for the first time too, and they seemed not to find me totally unsuitable for their daughter! I've a feeling there was a competition going on between the two of them to see who could fill me up the quickest, Hans with beer and Inge with cakes!

Xmas intervened at some time around here. Eve's family have quite a big get-together on Xmas Eve, in the German tradition, and being the newcomer guess who got to dress up as Santa Claus. Good costume too, although some slightly over-large trousers nearly resulted in an embarrassing moment just as I came in with the presents. By the time I got to the Xmas tree the gusset was at knee level and I had to make a dive for the chair for the sake of modesty.

As recompense I got to flirt outrageously with all the ladies present (a blatant but socially acceptable way to kiss all your female in-laws in one go) and my beard was jolly bushy...

Some rapid belt tightening and I was off again, delivering festive beer to the family across the road.

Later in the evening one of the kids suspiciously observed that Santa and I seemed to share a taste for the same footwear...

Then off to Perth, Kalgoorlie (to see my folks), BBQs, down a gold mine again (but this time to see how they did it 100 years ago - tiny tunnels - you didn't want to be a tall miner), some long trips out into the bush to a couple of the most isolated pubs you've ever seen, one apparently unchanged for decades apart from the (sanctioned) addition of vast amounts of graffiti. Once there had been towns of 10-15000 people around these places, but as the gold ran out the towns literally vanished and there is nothing to show for them apart from the pubs, now. O, and did I mention: Kalgoorlie is HOT!

Then home again. Work was still waiting where I left it, there are wedding plans and rehersals to finalise, and two (! I'm so bourgeois) plays to see this week. First Les Miserables (last night) which was excellent again, and tomorrow An Ideal Husband, an Oscar Wilde job starring that classy bird Stephanie Beecham.

A critical review will be forthcoming no doubt. I believe there are tight bodices involved...