Some stories just shouldn’t be told. Perhaps this is one. You be the judge. It was in Western Australia; 180km south of Perth, in June 2009. My girlfriend, Reb and I were jerking along beaded speed limits, which lament the type of housing estates where everyone drives the same car, and everything else is just-so. Continue reading ‘The Blue Noose’
Archive for the 'Australia' Category
All rise for the national anthem of the Principality of Hutt River It’s a hard land but it’s our land. Built with love and dedication. Self-assurance is our small nation. One man’s dream of independence. God bless the Prince of The Hutt River Province. God bless the man whose dream has come true. God bless this land where dreams can come true. God bless the Prince of the Hutt River Province. God bless this man whose dream has come true. God bless this land where dreams can come true. Continue reading ‘Principality of Hutt River: A Lesson in Principles’
A globule of pink ice cream evaded his podgy chin, while his right hand gripped the accelerator of Coffee Pot, a small racing-green steam train. He thrust the engine, ‘Full steam ahead!’ Elderly passengers were choked with fear, as the chubby five year old hurled them along the 1-mile jetty. The rearmost passengers were sprayed with milky tea, and splattered by soggy slices of cucumber. Little Johnny went pale, ‘There’s a hole in the track!’ He slammed his eyes tightly shut. When he reopened them, Coffee Pot was rattling through the sky, high above the blue ocean. They swooped over pelicans, which bobbed above lagoon sharks, which circled shoals of shimmering fish. Clouds of tiny white shells sprinkled the air, and a pod of excited dolphins leapt upwards. Smoking camp fires signalled the way and mutterings erupted, of monkeys, eagles, and journeys back in time. Continue reading ‘The Locals of Shark Bay’
I stare at the newspaper. It wasn’t me. I gawp at the television. It wasn’t me. I trawl through the internet. It wasn’t me! I listen to the radio, podcasts, and conversations on the bus. It WASN’T me! At least — I hope it wasn’t me? Continue reading ‘Trails of the Unexpected’
The beach was pale and despite being daubed with colourful swimwear, it was lacking and hollow. It was everything a beach should be; sparse and coated in sun like treacle smothers toast.
Reb and I reached a mutual agreement to leave, without the need for fall away words. We’d replaced a blown-out tyre, filled the food box, scrubbed and vacuumed the ute, filled the tank, and then just sat there. Stuck in treacle, watching skinny bums and rippled torsos while infant waves lolloped on the shore. Continue reading ‘A Stroll Along Australia’s West Coast’








