Day 1, Wed 7 Oct.

The bus dropped me at the world famous open range Western Plains Zoo, where I met up with the rest of the group with whom I'd be spending the next few weeks. They'd arrived from Sydney only about half an hour before me, and were just eating lunch on tables outside the kiosk. I introduced myself, then went inside to order my lunch, before rejoining one group that included our tour leader Bill O'Shea. I reminded myself to take a photo so that I had a complete pictorial record of my adventure into the Outback.

We are a group of twelve young people (all in our 20's and 30's), Bill our guide and main driver, and Norm Wilson, our chef and co-driver. We are exactly 6 males and 6 females, and come from eight different countries. It should be an interesting three weeks if today is anything to go by.

After lunch we were introduced to Jill, our Zoo guide for the afternoon. She took us to see the rare white rhinos that are the zoo's pride and joy, as well as many others of the zoo's 1000 animals. The zoo is very proud of its record in preserving the gene pool of a number of endangered animals from all over the world, such as the ancient Przewalski's horses. The zoo
specialises in large animals that need room to roam, in contrast to city zoos that have only a limited space.

We had afternoon tea back at the kiosk, from where we were picked up by Bill, who took us to the local caravan park where we were to spend the night.

Our transport for the next three weeks is a 16 seater 4-wheel drive bus, that pulls a trailer. This trailer carries all our gear, as well as the tents and cooking equipment etc. The sides of the trailer fold down to form bench tops. One side has a number of gas rings on which Norm does the cooking. We also carry two long trestle tables, folding chairs and stools, gas lamps, and anything else we might need when far from civilization.

The others had already set up their tents before going to the zoo. Most were travelling in pairs, so were allocated to share a tent. I was matched with Kurt, a 25 year old fitness instructor from Denmark, who was also travelling alone.

By the time we'd all finished setting up our mattresses and sleeping bags, Norm had dinner underway, and was asking for help in putting plastic table cloths on the tables, and setting up the chairs. It was starting to get dark, so a number of large electric lights we also set up.

Dinner consisted of grilled steak and vegetables, with a dessert of tinned fruit and custard. Not exciting, but simple and filling. There was tea, coffee or a cold drink available for after.

It was everyone's first night, so after those who were rostered on the evening dishes were finished, we gathered around to hear the arrangements for the rest of the trip, and to introduce ourselves.

There were two married couples. Helen and Richard from the US, who were in their early thirties, and Jeorg and Marianna who were a bit younger, were from Sweden. Two girls Sally and Kate, were travelling together, and were both from Canada, and the other two girls were Dorien from the Netherlands, and Analiese (Ana) from Belgium. Besides Kurt and myself, the other two males were Sam and Paul, both from New Zealand.

We chatted together for awhile, swapping experiences, then Bill suggested we have a hot drink for an early supper, then head for bed as we had a long travel day ahead of us tomorrow.
 

Day 2 Thurs 8 Oct.

Bill said that in order for us to get to know each other better, we were to rotate out seats on the bus so that we sat next to a different person every day. So this morning I found myself sitting next to Dorien from Holland.

She's 25, and works for a bank in Groningen in the north. She'd met Ana via the internet, and when Dorien decided to travel to Australia to meet up with some relations who migrated here before she was born, she invited Ana to come along. So far, they've spent a month in Victoria with these relatives, and are now trying to see some more of Australia; a bit similar to my
situation. I found Dorien very friendly, with a good sense of humour, and easy to talk to, as her English was excellent.

Today, as we already knew, was mainly a driving day. Our lunch destination was Cobar, an old copper mining town of about 4000 people, (populations are given as you enter each town). While Norm, with today's duty group, set up the tables for lunch, the rest of us were given half an hour to wander down the main street and explore. There wasn't much to explore. It had been
obvious all morning that we were driving further and further from civilisation and fertile land. The countryside here clearly doesn't have a lot of rain, and water is a very valuable and scarce resource that has to be used very carefully. There are signs everywhere reminding you to turn taps off, and not to waste water.

When we came back there were platters of cold meat, sliced tomatoes, grated carrots and other salad items like cheese ready for us to choose from, to make up our own salad rolls. Afterwards there was a choice of fresh fruit and a drink to complete our meal. There was enough for anyone who wanted to come back for more.

After our lunch stop, we still had 250 kilometres to travel, so were arrived in the small outback town of Wilcannia in the late afternoon. We were told that we were free to explore the town until 5.30pm, which would still give us enough time to set up our tents in daylight.

Wilcannia is a small town of about 1000 people, about 1000 kilometres from Sydney. It is on the Darling River and was once an important river port for paddle steamers that carried local produce into South Australia via Australia's largest river the Murray. This was before road transport took over, and these rivers were all reduced in volume for agricultural irrigation. Today Wilcannia is still the commercial centre for large sheep and cattle grazing properties. We were able to inspect the remnants of the old wharves on our walk.

While walking around the main streets of Wilcannia, we noticed quite a few dark skinned Aboriginal people watching us. They were standing or sitting in groups; some arguing loudly, others laughing and jostling each other, while some other groups were just silently staring at us in hostility. We were very conscious of the fact that our presence was noticed, and the manner in which it was being done didn't make us feel welcome nor comfortable.

At one stage, as we passed one of the town's pubs, we witnessed several drunk people being forcibly put out. They were being quite offensive, and had obviously had too much to drink, so we could understand why the publican would want them out.

There were some other Aboriginal people sitting in groups in a central park. They were sharing the liquor from large bottles wrapped in brown paper bags. They didn't look any happier than those gathered outside the pub. In fact they looked rather sad and depressed, as if there was nothing left to live for. Having only recently experienced these feelings myself, I could empathise with them. When we got back to the caravan park, we had dinner that had been cooked in a couple of huge 'dutch ovens' (large cast iron metal pots with lids), while sitting in the hot coals of the large camp fire. It was a bit like a very tasty stew. As we sat around drinking our tea and coffee afterwards, I brought up the subject of the Aboriginals we'd seen.

Norm explained that these people were in a no-win situation. He pointed out to us that in fact he himself was part Aboriginal, so he could see both sides of the problem.

It's like this, he told us. Before 1788, Australia was inhabited by many native groups that used to roam free, gathering and hunting food from the land, and interacting freely with other groups, trading tools and other necessities. Their lifestyle and movements were determined by the seasons as they rolled around. For thousands of years they had enjoyed a stable and
dynamic culture rooted in the dreamtime.

Then in 1788 they were invaded by the white people from Britain. They were driven from the most fertile parts of the country as the pastoralists took over their land and water (which has always been a scarce commodity), for themselves and their stock.

These white people didn't respect, nor understand the native ways, and they treated them very badly. When the native people looked to the pastoralist's stock as a substitute food, when their own native game had been removed, the whites became angry.

Police were employed to protect the pastoralist's interests, and many natives were rounded up and killed in some parts of the country. In some places the natives were employed to work for the pastoralists. Gradually the Aboriginals became dependant on the white people for food and a means of earning a living. In most parts of Australia, the white man's diseases like influenza and measles decimated the natives who had no immunity to these otherwise minor illnesses.

The while man believed that he was superior to the natives, so they imposed their law and religion onto the native people. They were forced to wear clothes and speak English. Many Aboriginal people lost their own language and identity. Their social structure and kinship gatherings were lost, as were many songs and rituals. They were denied their traditional education of the law, and their dreamtime stories.

All that has been lost to me, Norm told us. My people were forced into missions, where the European religions were imposed. This often led to conflicts between natives who had been converted to Christianity, and those who stubbornly wanted to keep the old ways and religion.

The missionaries spoke about them 'going to hell' if the people didn't follow Jesus like the white man. I felt like cringing, and was glad I hadn't revealed that I was an ex-priest.

For many years young children were forcibly removed from their mothers and other family members, and sent to the cities and large towns for a 'proper' education. They ended up in foster families or in institutions. In some cases these children were very well looked after, but in some these children were abused. These children, although given a basic European education, were
often confused as to their real identity, because the bonds with their families had been broken.

Norm went on passionately explaining how Aboriginals have always been treated as second-class citizens in their own land.
"We have suffered deeply from discrimination, both officially and personally, by legislation in education, employment, welfare and civil rights." he added with emotion tinged with anger. "From the moment of birth we experience racial inequality". It wasn't until 1967, after a referendum, that people of Aboriginal decent and Torres Strait Islanders were given full citizenship rights, and allowed to vote. Now we're left with people like you saw today. They feel anger and frustration. They are depressed because they feel powerless to do anything to help themselves. There are very few jobs in the small country towns like this, and to expect them to move to the cities for work isn't a good option for them either, although many try.

The few jobs that are available in a place like this, are more likely to go to a white person before an Aboriginal one, unless the Aboriginal is far superior. "Nowadays, many whites think we're OK, so long as we do it their way," he finished passionately.

Being Thursday, what we'd seen today is a fortnightly occurrence. These people come into town from the surrounding region, to collect their fortnightly government social security cheques and spend too much of it on alcohol.

We sat around the campfire and chatted about the problem for awhile, then different people started to tell ghost stories. Norm brought out some packets of marshmallows and showed us how to cook them. There's quite a knack to it I found out after burning my first two.

However, my mind was only half on the marshmallows. I was thinking about what Norm has told us. He'd also explained that Aboriginals had a much lower life expectancy, and much higher infant mortality rate per population and whites. Also there was a much higher proportion of the native population in jail, compared to the white population.

It made me feel very sad and depressed, as I can't think of an easy answer. It least I now understand more about the media items when they refer to 'Native Title', and the 'Mabo' and 'Wik' debates that are often discussed on current affairs programs.
 

Day 3 Fri 9 Oct.

Broken Hill is a large (by Australian standards) provincial city of about 30,000 people. It owes its existence to the minerals found there last century. Today it's a large mining city and regional centre often referred to as 'The Silver City'.

When we arrived at the caravan park where we were to spend the next two nights, we set up our tents while Norm organised the lunch in a similar way to yesterday. Just before 2 o'clock, Bill drove us to the tourist mine to join in the tour that had been booked, while Norm was left to tidy up and start preparing for our dinner.

Like all mine tours, we were given hard hats with lights, and went down in a lift in two groups of six. Silver, lead and zinc have been mined here for over 100 years. It's over 1100 km from Sydney and is linked by railway to Adelaide just over 500Km away. In fact, although Broken Hill is in New South Wales, it's more commercially linked to South Australia. Also, being so far
west, it operates on Central Australian time (9½ hours ahead of GMT), which is half an hour behind the eastern coast of Australia (10 hours ahead of GMT).

After dinner, most of us decided to go and check out the night life. We found a night club and spent a couple of hours dancing and listening to the live band. By midnight I'd had enough. We have another early start tomorrow. I think I would've enjoyed it if Assumpta had taken me to visit something like this in Dublin. I can see what a sheltered existence I've lead up to now. The more I think about it, the more I think it's wrong for priests to not have experience of the real world. How can priests effectively counsel people about things of which they have no knowledge or experience?
 

Day 4, Sat 10 Oct.

I enjoyed hearing about all the places she's been to. We discussed accents, and how in Europe, the UK, and even in the US it was easy to pick where people were from. Where as here in Australia, there appears to be very little difference in the way people speak. Helen said that the 'Aussie' accent hardly changed over several thousand kilometres. She boasted proudly that she could pick a New Zealander from an Australian, and pointed out how the New Zealanders shortened their vowels. I listened carefully to Paul and Sam after that, and noticed that the New Zealanders pronounced six as 'sex', and fish as 'fesh'.

We arrived at the School of the Air at 8.30am and were able to listen in to a lesson taking place at that moment. The room where the teacher sat, was set up like a radio studio in a sound proof room. We could see everything, and hear the voices through a speaker. The teacher has between 6 and 10 children who she can speak to if they 're on the air. They can hear her and each other too, even though they're hundreds of kilometres apart. They do their written work, supervised by an adult back at home. Mostly this is their mother. The work is then sent in to the teacher back at the base, corrected, then sent back. Email is now making a big difference to the time it takes for these children to get their work corrected and back.

The teacher we spoke to afterwards said that her group was able to get together 2 or 3 times a year for sporting or social events, but most of the time these children are at home, a long way from other children other than their siblings. Over a 1000 children in Australia, aged from 6 to 12, use School of the Air to supplement their correspondence lessons.

Our visit to the Royal Flying Doctor base was equally fascinating. I got a very good photo of one of the planes that was sitting on the tarmac, before we went in. This service was started in 1928, by a Presbyterian minister, Rev. John Flynn, who was concerned by the danger for the people living a long way from medical help. It was started as an aerial ambulance that provided a "Mantle of Safety" for the people of the outback.

In the early days a pedal radio using Morse code was used to summons help. Gradually communications have improved, as well as trained medical staff that go out on the plane. Nowadays a doctor can usually get to a patient in a matter of hours, treat the patient at the location, and if necessary evacuate the patient back to the hospital. As well as emergencies, regular clinics are held in small outposts that might be a homestead, a prospector's camp, Aboriginal mission, or a small country hospital.

We watched as the plane I'd photographed earlier, left the city of Broken Hill with a doctor, flight nurse and pilot to fly out to an emergency at one of the outlying miner's settlements. We heard that a miner had hurt himself in a fall, and that spinal injuries were suspected. The miner would be collected and would be safely tucked up in hospital by nightfall; either in the large Broken Hill Hospital here, or if there were spinal injuries, he would be airlifted straight to Adelaide, to the specialist spinal unit there.

When you live in a densely populated place like England, and you read how over-population is threatening the world, then it can come as a shock to realise how sparsely populated other parts of the world are. However, seeing some of the country we've already come through, I can appreciate how difficult it would be for this land to sustain more people. The scarcity of
water is the main problem, as well as arable land; but the two must go together. I can appreciate that Australia is the driest continent on Earth. After lunch we drove 20km out of Broken hill to visit Silverton. It's now a virtual ghost town after being a booming silver mining settlement late last century. The buildings that are left are classified by the National Trust, and have been used in a number of famous international films, including 'A Town like Alice' and 'Mad Max II'. In fact the town features regularly in advertisements, such as for Coca Cola. I recall seeing such an advertisement that had a young man skydive out of an aeroplane riding a skate board, down to a lonely outback building below. I think that must have been filmed around here somewhere.

We went into to the much photographed Silverton Hotel for afternoon tea, then visited one of the many Art Galleries and Museums that have been set up in these buildings to try and capture the tourist dollar. I took a few photos of the buildings myself.

After dinner tonight I'm happy to write up my journal and get a postcard off to Steve and John & Phyllis. I'd like to send one to Alison too, but I'm not sure what to say. A few of the others decided to go back into the city to try out some other nightspots.
 

Day 5, 11 Oct.

Marianna was my bus companion today. She's a fairly quiet young lady of 27, from Sweden, and is travelling with her husband Jeorg. She didn't say much. I wondered if she was feeling unwell after last night, or whether she isn't confident speaking in English. Luckily it wasn't a long way to drive today.

The park consists of red-brown desert mountain ranges that shelter a number of caves and overhangs that feature galleries of ancient Aboriginal paintings and etchings from a number of tribes over past centuries.

We arrived about 11 o'clock, and set up our tents in the camping area. We had a quick lunch, then set off in a group with one of the rangers, to follow a track up a secluded gorge. The gorge links a number of water-holes that were able to sustain the Aboriginal tribe members during times of drought.

On every suitable surface we saw evidence of their artwork. Particularly common were the stenciled handprints on the cave walls. I imagined these ancient people with their simple lifestyle making this artwork while they waited patiently for bad weather to clear, or for the seasons to change and a drought to break.

Their main priority was to get enough food to live and allow them to move to the next waterhole. As the seasons cycled around year after year, generation after generation they experienced "The Cycle of Life'. Nowadays so many of us are impatient. We rush from one thing to another, striving to earn enough to buy our next 'toy'. Could we remain in one place, patiently waiting for
the next season to roll around before we could move on?

Personally I wouldn't want to go back to such a simple nomadic existence, but I don't want to end up as part of the 'rat race' either. What do I want from life? I think I want to love and be loved, and do God's will. I'd like to have enough food to eat, clothes and shelter. I think I enjoy the simpler things in life. Friendship and companionship mean more to me than the things
you need money to buy.

Dennis the ranger pointed out a group of Yellow-footed rock wallabies to us. They're an endangered species of marsupial that can now only be found in the wild here in Mootwingee. They are much smaller than the common kangaroo, and the fur on the lower part of their legs have a distinct yellowish colour.

After we'd had our dinner, Dennis came and talked to us about the park and the history of the area, which I found fantastically interesting. Afterwards we sat around the campfire, and Norm pulled out his guitar. We sang a few bush songs, and were taught the words to "Waltzing Matilda" and "Click go the Shears". Bill then told us about a 'bunyip' (non-existent, yeti type of
monster) that gave the desired reaction when one or two of the girls insisted on going to bed leaving their torches on all night.
 

Day 6, 12 Oct.

We all jumped when Kurt startled what looked like a large lizard on huge legs. It was nearly a metre long, and ran up a tree when we disturbed it from eating the decomposing remains of a small animal. Dennis said that it was called a goanna (word only used in Australia) or monitor lizard, and he explained that there were a number of species in different parts of Australia. He said it wasn't dangerous at all; but that we needed to look out more where we placed our feet, because here, like in every other region of Australia, there were a number of different species of venomous snakes. I noticed we all walked a little less carefree after that warning.

After dinner tonight Bill and Norm both told us some scary snake stories before Norm got out his guitar and we practiced our new bush songs, as well as learning a few more.
 

Day 7, 13 October.

As we approached the town, the landscape appeared as I'd imagine a lunar landscape to look. The countryside was covered in small hills of white material dug out of the ground while mining for the precious opal gemstones. It was dry and there was very little vegetation.

We were introduced to Jim, a local ex-miner, who was our guide for the day. He started by taking us home to his 'dugout'. It's a house, entirely underground, dug into the white-coloured cliff face. Jim said that there were about 140 dugouts in the town, with most of the town's people living underground to get out of the intense summer heat. No air-conditioning is needed. Underground the temperature is a constant 22oC all year around, even if it is 40oC outside.

"All you need is a 'jack hammer' and a wheelbarrow", he said. "No supports are needed". There's even a motel in the town that has 30 rooms underground, with a restaurant and a swimming pool. I wondered if anyone ever got too enthusiastic and dug into their neighbour's home by mistake. "Oops! Sorry!!"??

We were taken into a disused opal mine and shown how the opal is mined by hand. Then we were driven past the Solar Power Station that was built about twenty years ago. It powers most of the town.

On the way to an underground art gallery that also featured opal jewellery, we drove past the local hospital. Jim told us that it was staffed by several nursing sisters, and has a regular weekly Royal Flying Doctor Service clinic. He proudly told us that the town holds a number of major events every year to fundraise for the RFDS. Sally, who is a qualified nurse said she was absolutely amazed with what she'd seen of the RFDS.

At the end of the day, while Norm was cooking our dinner, we were shown where we could 'noodle'. This is fossicking through piles of white rock that has been mined. We all found a few chips that had some "fire" of colour in them, that we could take home. However no one was lucky enough to find something that was of a commercial value.
 

Day 8, 14 Oct.

Because so many of eastern Australia's rivers flow westwards (and as we know now, drain into the Murray - Darling river system), he was convinced that there must be a sea in the centre of Australia. He nearly died trying to find it.

Bill said that in the summer of 1845 (a drought), Sturt and his party found a permanent waterhole that he called 'Depot Glen' (now called Milparinka), and where he and his party were trapped for 6 months until it rained. After some fruitless excursions into the dry interior, the death of his assistant, discovery of the Simpson Desert where the inland sea should have been, and
his own suffering from scurvy, Sturt returned to Adelaide.

I was sitting on the bus with Jeorg today. He was fairly quiet, but mentioned he was a bit worried about Marianna, who still wasn't feeling completely well, but not bad enough to do anything specific. He was concerned, because he knew that in the next few days we were getting into the most isolated part of our adventure.

I tried to reassure him by reminding him that Bill had an HF radio in the bus, and that we were only a quick call away from the RFDS which was our "mantle of protection" if anything should go wrong.

We saw are first deadly snake from the safety of the bus this morning. Bill told us that it was a King Brown Snake. It was nearly 2 metres long, a pale tan colour and was crossing the road in front of us. It sent shivers down my back when we were told that one bite had enough venom to kill several adults. Someone called out to Bill to drive over it, but Bill explained that
it was a native animal, and had as much right to be there as us. He said that unless one of us was threatened, there was no reason to kill it.

We arrived at our destination, the small town of Tibooburra, about midday. At 1500 kilometres, it is the furthest NSW town from Sydney. We visited the pub for lunch and were amazed to see that the walls were all covered in paintings. Some by quite famous Australian artists, and would be very valuable. It was surprising to see this, so far from the bustling cities where people pay a lot of money to see such art. He heard how the town started in 1881 when gold was discovered there. However the boom was short lived, and the town shrank in size to what it is now. Again we saw some Aboriginals sitting around just drinking and arguing. It saddens me so much to see this waste of life, and the unhappiness and depression that goes with it.

After lunch we took a self-guided driving trail through the Sturt National Park, which was created when in the 1970's, a number of non-viable pastoral properties were combined and bought up by the government. It now takes up the whole NW corner of New South Wales.

All 100 kilometres of the trail was dry and dotted with sandhills and gibber plains (rocky deserts) and clay pans. I couldn't understand how any early pioneers imagined that they could develop a viable farm here. We saw lots of red kangaroos and the grey female of the species called 'grey flyers'. There were also lots of emus that we were told feed on the mulga and salt bush.

At Mt. Wood homestead (one of those bought up by the government), we found a Pastoral Museum which demonstrated to us how difficult life was out here. In the late afternoon we saw large numbers of animals coming out to feed and drink.

We camped out at a camping spot in the Sturt national Park. There was only a pit toilet and some very risky water. We carried all our own drinking water, as well as sufficient petrol to get us to the next point of civilization, over 300 kilometres away. I was glad that Bill and Norm had done this trip before, and knew what they were doing. I asked Jeorg how Marianna was, and he said she felt much better, so that was a relief for them. Tonight was the first night that we were camped completely on our own; it was so isolated. Tibooburra is only 50 kilometres away, but out here our group is the only one at this spot. The stars looked even brighter than when I was at Elouera. The Milky Way is indescribably beautiful on such a clear night.

Around the campfire Bill started to tell us one of his stories, this time about dingos. I think he has a set of stories that he tells on all his tours. Some of the group looked quite worried, not sure if Bill was just 'pulling their leg', or if he was 'fair dinkum'. I think it was a bit of both, some truth, but a bit embellished to add to the atmosphere. I have to admit I felt inside my sleeping bag before I got into it, and checked that the zip on our tent was done up before I turned off the torch.
 

Day 9, 15 Oct.

We were on our way well before 8am, with about 1000 km (some on unsealed roads) ahead of us. It took us half an hour to reach the Warri Gate in the dingo fence, which was also the New South Wales and Queensland border.

This 2 metre high fence was built to keep the dingos (native dogs) from the north out of the sheep grazing country further south. It roughly runs along the NSW / Qld border then turns south and follows the South Australian / NSW border for about 1200Km. There are men employed who spend all their working time patrolling the fence to make sure it's secure.

We stopped for a break about 100 km north of the dog fence and border, near the ruins of an old abandoned homestead. Jeorg mentioned that Marianna was feeling unwell again, and a few minutes later she ran off a little way into the bush and was sick.

Sally who's a nursing sister went over to check her out. Marianna felt hot, so Sally took her temperature an confirmed that she had a slight fever. More worrisome was that she had a fast pulse and was tender around the stomach region. Sally told Bill that Marianna might have appendicitis, which could be dangerous if it burst.

After they discussed the situation with Jeorg for a few minutes, Bill radioed the RFDS base in Broken Hill and Sally spoke to the doctor there, giving Marianna's details in medical jargon. Bill then told the base our exact location.

We were directed to drive on for about 40Km, then turn off left to Coolibah Station, which was about 50 kilometres north of where we were. There was an airstrip where the plane could land. Meanwhile we were told to keep Marianna as comfortable as possible, but not to give her anything to eat, and only the minimum amount of water to relieve thirst.

We continued on the unsealed road we'd been on as instructed, then turned left onto a narrower road for about 20Km, then followed an even narrower track for about 10 kilometres. This was actually the station's driveway. We heard the aeroplane flying overhead when we had about 5 km to go, and watched it land in the distance. Sally, Jeorg and Bill took Marianna into
the main homestead, while Norm organised an early lunch for us, in case we got away soon.

Two boys, ages about 8 and 10 came out to say hello. Their mother had released them from their school work, as she was busy sorting out somewhere for Marianna to be examined. Our arrival was an unexpected novelty for these children who often don't see anyone, except their immediate family and the farm-hands, for weeks on end. They wanted to know if we'd play cricket with them. I looked at the bare ground all around. "Where?" I asked. They took me around the other side of a shed and showed me where there was some space, and no windows that could be broken. There were even two wickets already set up.

"Who'd like to play some cricket?" I asked the group who were standing around waiting to see what our itinerary was going to be. Most looked blankly in our direction. Only Sam and Paul seemed to know what I was talking about.

It's a bit like baseball, only with a flat bat and two bases instead of four, I tried to explain to our Northern American friends. With a bit of persuading we soon had two teams organised, while Jake and Thomas got their bats and balls. Two young station hands came over and joined in, and we had a lot of fun watching the different nationalities try and make sense of this British game.

By mid-afternoon the doctor decided that Marianna's condition wasn't an emergency, and that she didn't need to be evacuated back to Broken Hill. However he stressed that she did need to be watched closely, in case the pains and nausea came back. He said that it was possibly an attack of indigestion, some sort of infection, or it could be a 'grumbling' appendix that could flare up again. Sally was given instructions regarding a course of antibiotics that Marianna would be put on. It's a relief to know that
expert information is only a phone call away, and that a doctor is only about 90 minutes away by air, from anywhere we might be.

We were very conscious that fourteen of us had descended unexpectedly on this family. They were very hospitable and generous, and called us out of the sun for a big afternoon tea on their wide veranda. Entertaining the two little boys was the least we could do, after we'd disrupted their usual routine.

I looked at the scene around me, while we all hoed in to the plates piled high with cakes and other goodies. The white Beechcraft King Air, with its blue and red RFDS symbols and stripes, looked lonely, as it stood out clearly against the red soil and blue sky; waiting on the airstrip, half a kilometre away. The pilot had been collected when the doctor had indicated that he would be monitoring Marianna's condition for a little while. I could see that the Kellett family really enjoyed hearing the latest gossip they were able to glean from the RFDS staff.

The homestead was made from the local stone, with very thick walls that kept out the heat. Windows were small and the interior looked dark. It was protected on all sides by the wide veranda. There were a number of buildings around, mostly of metal referred to as corrugated galvanised iron sheets. All the roofs were made of this material too, and the older ones were
showing a bit of rust. The newer buildings now use 'colourbond', which is far more rust resistant, as well as looking more attractive. The colour is impregnated as part of the rust-proofing treatment.

In one corner of the yard, was the satellite dish, that's now a very common sight out here. The Kelletts acknowledged that in the last few years, it had brought a major change to their lives. Today they have a choice of a number clear TV channels, that instantly informs them of any major world events at the same time as their city cousins, instead of an unreliable crackly radio.

In order to have Marianna close to any further help she might need during the night, The Kellett family offered us the use of their shearer's quarters for the night. It's where the shearers sleep when the 50,000 sheep are given their annual hair cuts. About 50 people are employed here at shearing time we were told.

The sleeping quarters were very rough, but having only recently slept in haystacks and barns, I didn't have any difficulty throwing my faithful sleeping bag onto the old worn mattress, that lay on a wire frame on the top of a double bunk. There was a communal shower and toilet block, with hot bore water, so we were more comfortable than we would've been if we'd decided to drive a few hundred kilometres further up the road, towards our intended destination. I was quite impressed by the way the station is like a self sufficient small village. Water is very scare so there's only a small vegetable garden that has to be well fenced to keep the kangaroos and other animals out. Most food is ordered months ahead, and the family have to keep a supply in reserve, in case they are isolated by floods or other problems.

It's mostly very dry out here, but when the rains come, the roads become mud, and often for weeks the only way in or out is by air. Norm told us that if it rained now, we wouldn't be able to drive where we are going tomorrow, and we'd be stranded here for a week or two.
 

Day 10, 16 Oct.

I was lucky that on this long leg of our journey I had Paul from New Zealand as my companion. He's a 20 year old Law student who's having a year off to travel and see the world. So far he's managed to find enough work to keep himself, as well as pay for trips such as this one. He's using this excursion around Australia as a stepping stone to Asia, but isn't too sure of his plans after that.

We drove through what seemed like thousands of kilometres of arid and semi-arid desert. The very few small towns we drove through all looked like they'd seen better days. We arrived at our destination, the town of Longreach, at about 7 o'clock and drove straight to the caravan park where we put our tents up in record time.

It had been organised for Norm and Bill to have a night off after their long day driving, so we all traipsed into town together to buy our dinner. We'd been advised to try the local pub. While a few chose either 'fish'n chips' or a 'fisherman's basket', I thought that this far (about 700Km), from the sea was not the place to buy seafood, so I just went for a 'hamburger with the lot'. The meat was quite generous, and with a fried egg, slices of beetroot, fried onion, tomato, lettuce and tomato sauce, all between two layers of bun, it was quite a challenge to eat. Needless to say we were thankful to have plates to catch what fell out.

I must say though, the beer was cold, and welcome after our dusty dry drive through some of Australia's most sparsely inhabited country. I bought some postcards of the Stockman's Hall of Fame that we are going to visit tomorrow, and wrote a brief summary of the last week, then sent one off to Steve and wrote a brief postcard to Phyllis and John. I also wrote one to
Alison. I found it quite hard to write. I didn't want to sound to goofy and soppy, nor did I want it to be too impersonal. In the end I made it friendly, and finished by saying that I looked forward to sharing all these amazing experiences with her when I return.
 

Day 11, 17 October

This morning we went out to the small airport and saw the old hangar in which Australia's famous international airline, the Queensland And Northern Territory Aerial Service (QANTAS) started in 1922. As well as a museum, there was a full sized replica of the Avro 504K, the first type of passenger aircraft used by the airline.

We spent the afternoon in the Australian Stockman's Hall of Fame. It is a modern complex built as a tribute to the pioneers, settlers and stockmen who first carved a living from this harsh virgin environment. It was an eye opener to see the hardships these people had to deal with; and it was obvious how important the Royal Flying Doctor Service is in contributing to their safety.
 

Day 12, 18 October

We arrived in time for a late lunch, then were taken on a tour of the world's largest underground sapphire mine. We were shown how the gemstones were cut, then the group bought a tractor scoop of dirt that we all enjoyed sieving, washing and sorting through. Marianna and Jeorg were lucky, and found quite a good stone that they then took to a local gem-cutting and
setting service to have made into a ring.

I enjoyed fossicking for gemstones. We all found a few small coloured chips to add to our opal souvenirs. Some of the party spent a lot of money on gifts to take home. I saw a very nice necklace with a mauve amethyst that I decided to buy for Alison, as it's her birthstone. At the last minute I decided to buy the matching ear-rings as well.

There was also a matching ring. Would I? No, it's far too early for that. I turned away, then looked at it again. It was really blowing my budget in one go. But you only live once I told myself, and so far I've always been very careful with money. In an uncharacteristic moment of madness I went back to the counter and bought the ring as well. I did wonder what you what you'd
think Mum. Do you think I'm mad, or do you understand how I feel?

At the moment as I lie on my bed writing this by torch light, I'm not sure I've done the right thing. It's really very beautiful, but it wasn't cheap. I know I don't have to give all the pieces to her; just thinking about her is stirring up some very strong emotions inside me.

We're actually just over halfway in our holiday. In another week and a half we'll be back home, and I'll have to make some clear decisions regarding my relationship with Alison. What's scarring me is that I'm thinking less about Assumpta (not every minute of every day), and more about Alison. It's making me feel guilty and disloyal to Assumpta, even though I know she said not to deny myself love from someone else. I just hope it all gets sorted out in my mind over the next week and a half. I know I really like Alison, and I enjoy being with her. I have to admit, I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her; I suppose that is love????
 

Day 13, 19 October

We travelled all morning, stopping only briefly for morning tea and a quick lunch when our drivers changed over. It was obvious that we were back in civilization when by early afternoon, we found ourselves driving through miles of sugar-cane fields.

The coast was reached at a town called Sarina, just south of the city of Mackay, the 'Sugar-Cane Capital' of Australia. It was lovely to see so much water again. Our destination was Airlie Beach and Shute Haven. While Bill and Norm sorted out our camping location, the rest of us hurried to get our gear for a 3 hour boat tour of some of the Great Barrier Reef.

Our boat had a transparent bottom, so we could see the coral reef, with it's brightly coloured fish darting in and out as we floated above them. We even saw a stingray, which is a type of shark. Our commentator said there were giant clams in the deeper water just a few kilometres further out from where we were. I could see why this Whitsunday Island group has been classified as a World Heritage Area.

When we got back, we set up our tents, then walked to the headland to feast our eyes on the magnificent views over the harbour that is dotted with islands. Some are only 5 Km off shore. As I watched the sunset painting the islands and sea in all glorious shades of red, orange, mauve and pink, I wished Alison could've been here to share this almost religious experience
with me. It was so beautiful, no one spoke to break the silence until the sun's light had completely faded. Now as I record the day's events, I can't help thinking back to only two weeks ago on another cold lonely beach, thousands of kilometres south of
here. Just thinking about her, stirs up some strong emotions that I'm beginning to enjoy. Every day now as we drop further south I'm getting closer to her, and I can't wait to see her again.

I love Alison. There I've said it. I don't love Assumpta any less. I still love Assumpta, but she was Ireland, and that part of my life is clearly over now. Alison is now, and I think I'd like her to be part of my future. In fact I'd love to take Alison so see BallyK one day, and show her where so many special things happened to me. I'd take her to Fitzgerald's and the church. I'd proudly introduce her to Niamh and Ambrose, and to Padraig, Brendan and Siobhan. I wonder if they'd think I was being untrue to Assumpta? Oh well, that's another lifetime away.

Mum, I remember you telling Stephen, that when I was born you didn't love him any less. Instead your love grew and you loved us both. You explained that love grows; that it's not limited to a certain amount that must be shared around. That's how it is with me. I don't love Assumpta any less, but my love has grown, and I love Alison too, but differently. I now strongly believe that my future might be tied in with her's, and I can't wait to see her again, to see how she feels after I've been away for these three weeks..
 

Day 14, 20 October.

I felt quite confident, after my experience at Sapphire Beach a few weeks ago, so offered to take Ana who said she'd never canoed before. We had an enjoyable hour pottering around the shallow reefs, marvelling at the colourful fish darting about, and other marine life visible from our boat. Later we had a swim in the warm water before lunch, then covered ourselves in sunscreen and lay in the delicious heat for a short while, before common sense forced us to seek out the shade, where we all dosed off for awhile.

Later when the tide was low, we walked out over some of the exposed corals, exploring all the little nooks and crannies where the small shellfish were trying to hid from us. We didn't disillusion them, and let them think we couldn't see them.

We left the beach to walk back to a clearing near the middle of the island. Here some of the local people feed the lorikeets every day at 3pm. The children who were there were enjoying holding out seed in their hands, and having these brightly coloured birds landing on them, and feeding out of their hands.

Watching the joy and excitement on their faces made me yearn for the day I can relive my happy childhood through the eyes of my own child. Please God let it all happen. The simple pleasures that can be shared are so precious, yet cost so little.
 

Day 15, 21 October.

We spent the afternoon swimming and relaxing on the beach not far from our camping park. I wrote a long letter to Steve, telling him all about my trip over these last couple of days..

Norm told us about the giant green turtles, that come ashore on some of the nearby beaches to lay their eggs. Unfortunately, it only happens on a couple of days a year, so we weren't be able to witness it. Tomorrow we drop 300Km south from here, gradually getting closer to the end of our journey.
 

Day 16, 22 October.

Tomorrow we're going to visit Fraser Island, a large sand island that is mostly a National Park. Apparently it is unique in a number of ways.
 

Day 17, 23 October

Because of the fragility of this environment, we had to stay strictly on the sign-posted tourist roads that took us through the lush rainforest to all the best lookout points and crystal clear lakes. We had morning tea sitting on a beach of golden sand, near a strangely attractive rusting wreck of an old passenger liner, run aground on the island in 1935.

Lunch was consumed after a swim in one of the perched lakes. These are formed when rain-traps form in hollows in the sand above sea level. Minerals and vegetable matter combine to cement a waterproof base in depressions in the sand dunes. Fraser Island has the world's greatest concentration of such lakes, some of which are hundreds of metres above sea level.

The whole place is exquisitely beautiful. After dinner we went for a walk with one of the rangers who had a spotlight, so we could see some of the nocturnal animals that were coming out to feed. We were searching particularly for possums and gliders. These latter animals are marsupials that have a flap of skin between their front and back legs so that they can actually glide from one tree to another.
 

Day 18, 24 October

We'd been given a list of possible suggestions of what we might like to visit earlier while still on the bus. I chose to go to Fig Tree Pocket with Katie, Paul and Sally. We visited the licorice factory first, then after buying our lunch, we went to the 'Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary'.

These quiet solid animals were very cute, and I admit I enjoyed holding them in my arms, while my companions took some photos. It's sad to think that these gentle animals are endangered due to the very small number of different eucalypts they eat, and the destruction of so much of the forests that have these trees.
 

Day 19, 25 October.

For today, the group chose to visit the "Cable Ski World" where we were able to choose from a number of adventurous activities such as cable water skiing, jet skis, windsurfing and bungy jumping.

I had a go at windsurfing and the jet ski. A number of the others like Kurt, were really into these daring sports, and chose the more hair-raising ones. I was just as happy watching them risk their necks, while I stood on the comfort and safety of dry, solid ground. We went home and had showers, then all went to Jupiter's Casino for dinner, as a change from camping. For me it was also a chance to see how the other half live. It's convinced me that I wouldn't want to change places with those wealthy, high living people for anything. This is definitely not my scene. After the poverty and hopelessness we saw in some of the outback
towns, this is such a contrast.

We only have a couple of more days and we'll be in Sydney, the end of the trip. I'm not going to hang around there at all. I'm sick of all the tourist stuff, and can't wait to get home to Bundarra, and the simple life. Well, home to see Alison, I admit it.

I've made up my mind to just let nature take its course. That is, if it's meant to happen, it'll happen. I wasted three years loving Assumpta and being miserable because I didn't acknowledge it. I'm not going to make the same mistake again.

I can't wait to feel Alison in my arms, and to tell her how much I've missed her; and how I feel about her. That is if it all goes that way. I think (hope!!) she feels the same way.
 

Day 20, 26 October.

I think I must be getting old and clucky. But I do believe that getting married and having a family is one of the richest experiences life has to offer, and I don't want to miss out on it.

Tomorrow night we'll be in Port Macquarie, then the next day we reach Sydney. I think I've had enough of travelling, and I can't wait to get home. It's been a good holiday, and I've seen a lot. I'm really glad I went. I've made some good friends with whom I've exchanged addresses; but now I'm ready to get on with the next part of my life. I need to stop being idle. I want to do something that will make a difference to people's lives. I have a feeling that I'm on the cusp of a new beginning, and I have a feeling of excitement and anticipation inside me. It feels good.