Stars & Cars

[The following entry is a record of the events of the weekend of the 20th of Feb]

So off we go into the bush. We travel by car (a Ford Falcon) driven by a Swedish gentleman who shall be referred to as Vedts, fore 'tis his name. An accomplished driver, farm-hand, motorcyclist, dancer also very good at being a friend. I sit in the front passenger seat being the tallest and am thus able to rest my feet on the dashboard, muck around with the aircon and radio - basically stretch out and enjoy the journey. I am afforded this luxury by our gracious hostess Claire Hawkins (sitting behind me), whos family farm we will be staying at for the first night - Sinead and Andrew Anderson, friends from the old country, are also in the car.

I will not go into particular details concerning the journey, though I will mention that it took some three and a half hours and took us through several one-horse towns (only one horse perhaps, but plenty of cars aha ha ha ha)

That evening we all sat upon the back porch of the palatial farmhouse and gazed up at the stars and oh what an array of beauty was laid out before us! I saw for the first time in my life the belt of the Milky Way - so many stars clustered together that a dusty light threaded between them and formed a trail across the sky almost from horizon to horizon. I stayed staring up for several hours, saying little, just reveling in the sight - one which I have desired to see from my earliest days reading Children's Guides to the Universe books.

The next morning we went on a tour of the the Hawkins' farmland. Claire and Sinead led the way on a quad bike. Andy and Vendts saddle up two off-road motorbikes and tore off after the girls. I was left with the car. Heh heh heh...

I was in full Mad Max mode driving after those guys down dusty tracks cut through the vast plots of land. Wait, I should say I wasn't in FULL Mad Max mode or I would have run those puny bikes off the road, killed the riders and siphoned the gas into my car's tank - I was in enough of a Mad Max mode to pull some heavy powerslides round the corners and stab a couple of skid-stops out at intervals.

After this little adventure we hit the road again. After driving about an hour through bushland; woodland, scrub, the occasional road sign peppered with shotgun pellet holes, the land around us opened up and the scenery disappeared. All that remained either side of the road was flat, dusty scrubland as far as the eye could see. This land seemed to go on forever as we drove for over an hour. Eventually more trees and a pub revealed themselves and we had reached our destination. A place called Borooban (spelling correct at time of going to press).

The evening is hosted by Jackie Stevens who has arranged what I assume, nay hope, is the typical Aussie barbeque, for the fare is of a particular excellence. As to the event itself, much drinking and dancing like a berk took care of my reputation in the eyes of the ladies and I retired to my bed. This bed was simply a mat laid out by the side of the car, such was the weather that a simple duvet was only barely required and I fell into a deep slumber under that wonderful starry canopy the world had once again unveiled.

It was not until the morning that I realised my mistake.

I had laid myself out that night, stunned to motionless sleep, as perfect a banquetting table as any mosquito could wish for. Had I been awake I might have heard the tiny mosquito horns calling out signalling dinner, and the answering calls from mosquito clans strewn across the bush. Such is the arrogance of Man that we assume to be sole masters of long-distance communication and logistics, for the mosquitos obviously had access to their own version of email, send out express invitations to all mosquitos in Australia, who were, through the use of a transport technology far superior to our own, able to transport themselves and their brood across the vast swathes of countryside to my unconscious body in under four hours (this being the time of my visit to the Land of Nod). For almost two weeks afterwards I sported a map of the night sky on my own body, though now in red on pale white (yes still no tan), I could make out the belt of the Milky Way.

It was good of the insects to remind me of the eternal balance within nature between the beautiful and the incredibly irritating. We must take care not to overly imbue any of our experiences with too much of one at the expense of the other, for though the star field I have seen is indeed beautiful it is made up of billions of nuclear explosions floating in a freezing, unbreathable vaccum and to wish ourselves to be out amongst those wonders is to wish not only to experience beauty but also incredible irritation.

I did enjoy watching a mosquito splat on the windshield of the car on the way home though. And that really is as circular as I can make this particular entry.