Hard to believe but we are still in the outback in the morning. Well into Western Australia now but still endless scrubland and big skies - with just the hint of arable farming starting to show. We are close enough to the highway to spot a sign telling us it is 259km to Perth - but 6 hours to go on the train - so we are averaging 40km/h. You could cycle this quickly!
But we did eventually arrive into Perth, having stopped for no fewer than 14 freight trains to get past, to blue skies and welcome big bed in a big room in a big hotel! The cabin on the train was kinda small!
Spent a pleasant evening wandering the city and finding food and wine (to avoid withdrawal symptoms). But other than that not much to say ...
so time to ramble on and reflect on 2 months in a familiar but still a foreign country, so here is a story to celebrate our shared but different language…(as promised to several Aussies met on the trip)
Once there was a swagman, who, camped by his billabong, was eating his parmi while keeping an eye out for salties. Wearing his beanie to keep off the winter cold, but his sunnies in the bright desert light, and short of supplies he headed off to the Bottle-O for a Bundy.
Originally from Brizzy, he now lived outside Rocky and decided as the nights were getting colder to buy a doona. A second hand one at Salvos was perfect.
He had previously owned a ute, but it had been towed away when he had left it too long in a 2P. The rego, reminded him of a once love of his life, Sheila, but fair dinkum, she had left him long before he lost it.
Moving inland for a while he was more likely to see a freshy than a salty, which meant he was much safer. And the roos pretty much avoided him anyway. He decided this arvo to see if he could catch himself a barra, as he was short of dosh to go to the fisho. And perhaps wash it down with a stubby from his esky.
As it turned out the barras weren’t biting and he had to make do with a jaffle. He was feeling pretty low, but didn’t want to beg from the workies, so he decided to blow is last bucks on the pokies.
So the story has a happy ending as he met a pom, who lent him the money to win big on the Keno. He lived happily ever after, changed into his thongs, and dined on mack and avo whenever he wanted, washed down with a schooner or a midi or two.
And here is the translation…
Once there was a swagman, who, camped by his billabong, was eating his chicken
parmigiana (parmi) while keeping an eye out for estuarine crocodiles (salties). Wearing his hat (beanie) to keep off the winter cold, but his sunglasses (sunnies) in the bright desert light, and short of supplies he headed off to the bottle shop (Bottle-O) for a Bundaberg rum (Bundy).
Originally from Brisbane (Brizzy), he now lived outside Rockhampton (Rocky) and decided as the nights were getting colder to buy a duvet (doona). A second hand one at the Salvation Army shop (Salvos) was perfect.
He had previously owned a utility vehicle (ute), but it had been towed away when he had left it too long in a two hour parking place (2P) place. The registration plate (rego), reminded him of a once love of his life, Shiela (so could have been any Australian woman), but fair dinkum (no idea what this means!), she had left him long before he lost it.
Moving inland for a while he was more likely to see a freshwater crocodile (freshy) than a salty, which meant he was much safer. And the kangaroos (roos) pretty much avoided him anyway. He decided this afternoon (arvo) to see if he could catch himself a barramundi fish (barra), as he was short of dosh to go to the fish & chip shop (fisho). And perhaps wash it down with a bottle of beer (stubby) from his cool box (esky).
As it turned out the barras weren’t biting and he had to make do with a toasted sandwich (jaffle). He was feeling pretty low, but didn’t want to beg from the workmen/women (workies), so he decided to blow is last bucks on the slot machines (pokies).
So the story has a happy ending as he met a prisoner of her majesty, or basically a Brit (pom), who lent him the money to win big on the lottery (Keno). He lived happily ever after, changed into his flip flops (thongs), and dined on mackerel (mack) and avocado (avo) whenever he wanted, washed down with a glass of indeterminate size somewhere between half and a pint (schooner) or a half pint (midi) or two.