The thin, taught tightrope of thanity in thentral Authtralia.
On the road again, in fact I’ve only two days left of my trip. The Suzuki was finally fixed and after five days in Broken Hill my folks and I headed west to Port Augusta in South Australia. What was wrong with the Suzuki? Well the lil fella is connected physically and psychically to our `Swagman’ Motorhome by a couple of hydraulic rams, (like sheep but smarter). On a previous trip the front of the car pulled away from the chassis. It was welded back on but by incompetent welding jockeys who did a such a woeful job, the welds never actually stuck. In a sense it was like being pulled around at great speeds by your teeth and having your jaw pulled out from your face. Then pushed back in again by small retarded, hyperactive men in overalls and ripped out once more while traveling at high speeds over Outback cattle grids and gravel roads.
What I liked in Broken Hill? The houses are cool. They’re probably shit to live in, I don’t know. I didn’t ask (what? Me talk to strangers? I might get fondled!) but the different retro styles all cobbled together over the last century, eccentric extensions (you’ve gotta love concrete Roman Columns and Fibro) and multi-coloured exteriors are something to experience.
I went to the Pro Hart Gallery and I fell in love some of his work. Beyond his old TV commercials and a vague awareness of his work I really knew bugger all about him. But seeing it all together and in Broken Hill really opened my eyes which was lucky because otherwise I had no idea where I was and was beginning to panic. But they were opened not just to his art but also how one can live a full and creative life without any hint of artistic indigestion. Critics and snobs be damned. He was a self-taught, naturally inquisitive and talented artist with many insanities and rashes who bravely followed his creative intuitions and seemed to have fun doing it. I thought he was cool.
But enough of you, lets talk about me.
Here are just a few more photos out of the literally dozens I've taken on the trip so far. I mean pffft, there's two more days left, I'm likely to take several more before I get home and that's not counting the one or two I may take waiting for my connecting flight in Sydney! Then again, I may not.
Formerly known to Westerners as `The Olga's' named by Explorer Giles Stuart because they reminded him of his childhood German Nanny. They are now called `Kata Tjuta' which means `Site of future Casino'.
Regretfully, Dad and I had an argument during our stay at Broken Hill where I said some rather harsh words that left him feeling quite small.
Unlike many mountains of this type around the world, this is not known as `Table Top Mountain' but `Brown Coffee Table Top Mountain'. Named by Explorer Lionel Stuart Threadbare in 1834. Threadbare became known for giving literal names to many landmarks he discovered such as `Pussycat shaped Rock' in Western Australia, though many are still baffled by his naming of `Craigy Head' in New South Wales.
A lazy pink sunset over the dusky jewel of inland Australia that is the um, damn what is it? It's on the tip of my tounge. Ohh I hate it when that happens, you know? Ohhhh it's right there. . . . .
No it's gone. Hang on. If I try not thinking about it it'll come to me. You go on ahead.
Trailing behind Kata Tjuta are many smaller rocks. Aborigines call them `the eyes of the Dingo' though scientists believe they are technically `Monument poo'.
Ularu as viewed by those whacky folk who do`The Muppet Show'.
Geraldine Federal-Thumping tries her hand as a work experience bar maid at Alice Springs only legal brothel and public Glory Hole.
Formerly known as the `Caustic Road, this Hillock is now known by many Americans as the birth place of the modern casserole.
I had to `Shoo' off many young aborigines and Americans from this sacred site which determines the time `Afternoon tea' is served by many NASA Scientists and lab coat wearing `Boffin's. from all over the world.'
A view of the beginning of the `Eric Nuff Desert' named after the tragic `cabin boy' and expedition mascot who tagged along for many miles during the first leg of Giles Stuart's Expedition to find out if there was anything worth taking in Central Australia. No one was
ever sure of what became of Nuff but there are many rambling entries in Stuarts Diary as he lay dying of thirst that he'd had `E-Nuff'.
There's more to come, I've just come over all tired like and need to have a good lie down.
What I liked in Broken Hill? The houses are cool. They’re probably shit to live in, I don’t know. I didn’t ask (what? Me talk to strangers? I might get fondled!) but the different retro styles all cobbled together over the last century, eccentric extensions (you’ve gotta love concrete Roman Columns and Fibro) and multi-coloured exteriors are something to experience.
I went to the Pro Hart Gallery and I fell in love some of his work. Beyond his old TV commercials and a vague awareness of his work I really knew bugger all about him. But seeing it all together and in Broken Hill really opened my eyes which was lucky because otherwise I had no idea where I was and was beginning to panic. But they were opened not just to his art but also how one can live a full and creative life without any hint of artistic indigestion. Critics and snobs be damned. He was a self-taught, naturally inquisitive and talented artist with many insanities and rashes who bravely followed his creative intuitions and seemed to have fun doing it. I thought he was cool.
But enough of you, lets talk about me.
Here are just a few more photos out of the literally dozens I've taken on the trip so far. I mean pffft, there's two more days left, I'm likely to take several more before I get home and that's not counting the one or two I may take waiting for my connecting flight in Sydney! Then again, I may not.
No it's gone. Hang on. If I try not thinking about it it'll come to me. You go on ahead.
ever sure of what became of Nuff but there are many rambling entries in Stuarts Diary as he lay dying of thirst that he'd had `E-Nuff'.