Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
The following day we decided to go into town to buy some much needed provisions. We
were desperately broke, but our spirits were buoyed by the fact that we were here in Aus-
tralia; there were hundreds of houses around and we felt that we would surely find some
sort of work amongst all of them.
It was bitterly cold that morning. Fog had descended upon the now still and black river.
The tide was going out. I was surprised to see that the tide influenced the river even as far
upstream as this. Through the shrouds of fog we saw statuesque pelicans standing stock
still on the mooring pylons, like some strange ghostly scene. We breathed steam, and our
fingers stung in the cold river water as we rowed across to the dock.
We walked down the main road. People were out and about, going about their business. All
appeared to be smoking, perhaps it was just the cold. We asked our way to a supermarket
and were directed to a large, brightly lit building. Outside sat an ancient man, dressed heav-
ily in raggedy, grubby clothing. If ever there was a traveling man, here was he. His face
was red and not just from the cold we could see. He was one of those romantic old drovers
that wandered around from farm to farm sheering sheep in the season, living hard, drinking
harder. His eyes were red and watery from the alcohol he was obviously addicted to. He
had a compelling gaze and engaged us immediately as he sawed a violin bow across his
ancient wood saw.
He was a good musician, and he vibrated and trilled his way through the tune he was play-
ing very touchingly. We were riveted to the spot. He would grasp the top of his rusty, old
saw, and as he wobbled this briskly back and forth he rasped his bow across the back of it,
extricating an eerie ghost-like warble that screeched out the melody he played. Although
terribly low in funds, we gave him some change and his smile exuded genuine gratitude.
We stepped into the warmth of the store. It was a week or so before Christmas and decora-
tions adorned the inside as far as the eye could see. It was wonderful to see that Christmas
meant something here more than just a sales gimmick. We were to find that all the stores
around town were similarly decorated. People were bustling about in festive moods, and it
was catching. It also served to remind Gavin and I just how far away from home we were
and how we missed our family. Christmas time was always a sad time for us to be away.
That night we found ourselves in the Bundaberg Hotel bar, mingling with some of the river
rats who lived on their boats near us. We had a hilarious night and met some wonder-
ful people. Our depression lifted, although we could hardly afford to go out drinking. The
people we were with could tell this and were very generous. I was beginning to feel good
about Australia if only we could get some work. We were told by the others to be on the
lookout for the customs. They had an office in town just up the road from the river and kept
a close eye on foreign sailors like us.
