Sunday [OE.

Sunnan-daeg; tr. L. dies

solis = Gr. ήμέρα ήλίον‘day of
the sun’. (Now with initial
capital.)] 1. The first day of
the week, observed by
Christians as a day of rest
and worship, in
commemmoration of Christ’s
resurrection; the Lord’s Day.
b. With specific epithet, as
Advent, Midlent,
Mothering, Trinity ME. 2.
Saint S., a rendering of
Sanctus Dominicus = St.
Dominic, due to confusion
with dies Dominica = Sunday.
local. 1490. ¶ 1. Phr. (colloq.).
When two Sundays come
together (meet), never. A
month of Sundays, a very
long time. So A week of
Sundays. ¶ attrib. and Comb.,
as S. book, clothes, dinner,
paper; S best, one’s best
attire, usu. worn on S. S.
letter; the dominical letter.
 a …z
(20/11/10. reader, the Scribd site gives an vu ovmy  but changg th 7 DAYS
(nproos) by omitting many freq ly uud symbols, by uung dfault fonts, & by reconfigu the pagg -
so 4 reading (& lodd) the original 4m@ov Sunday here: http://db.tt/7UEfeeD )

23/5/99 (DANYO RESERVE (no 53)). Heading home. Rewrote one of the ‘meditations’ in
Morgan. Spent the night in Danyo reserve.
29/8/99 (Port Germein (no 58)). I’m retracing my path. Closed the circle at Port
Augusta where I had a shower in the same service station as before. In the morning I started out with
a really beaut stroll along the shore of the dry Lake Finnis; then called in at Oakden Hill station to
thank them and tell them that I’d be mailing their letter in a few hours time. Now I’m at Port Germein
which is like a home base for me: walk out to the end of the pier; slow tea as I watch the sunset from
the sheltered picnic tables; pub; ring home only to find the phone engaged then try again after a beer
at the pub. They’ve had plenty of rain so I won’t have to tear about watering the garden when I’m
back. The tax returns are back, we owe them $2,500 between us. Joni’s bill came in. I got booked for
speeding just as I thought - $105. Michael had a good birthday at Stalactites with Helen. Kate visited
Vi before leaving for Mexico. Mum, Rasa, and Egle all rang on my birthday. Dan has two days of suit
modelling work in September. H says she’s been really busy and hasn’t noticed the time go.
13/8/00 (14/8/41 (no 8)). My foundations are shaken. For awhile it wouldnt have surprised
me to see birds drinking from pieces of mirror lying on the ground. And like a bald man finding combs I’ve
been bewildered by signs. But here I am on a rise overlooking an endless dry lakebed and behind me the plain
stretches hugely to the horizon. Nothing has changed in a million years and when we are gone it will still be the
same. I got up well before dawn for a crap which I did conveniently in a rabbit hole (yes, yes, Adriana, thats
how we behave). The warren has been emptied by calcivirus; I havent seen a rabbit on the property. There were
no small birds to greet the dawn as there are no trees here, nor bushes other than the saltbush which is only a
foot off the ground. But I had been awake for quite awhile; the pre-dawn on an open plain can be almost like
daylight. I’ve had breakfast, I’ve put three oranges into my day-pack, there is not a cloud in the sky and the air
is still – time for a stroll (8.45am) … walked north, was back at 1.45pm.
Why, why, why is the question? Not how because science does a good job of answering that one.
Words, the simplest of which is a complicated package of instructions, when used with calculated precision do
an excellent job of manipulating objects. Language has given us power over the tangible world. It has enabled
us to analyse things into their constituent parts, order them, and rearrange them to give us all the wonders of
science. The how of things is the order they have to be in, or the order of precise manipulations we must
perform to gain the results we desire – the medicines, the aeroplanes, the bomb. Language is the will to power. I
think its Bertrand Russell (& maybe thats whats called positivism) who considered that everything including
man can be seen to be composed of elementary particles. The idea is that the sums or arrangements of the
particles are greater than or cannot be predicted from the particle itself. I suppose physicists say something
similar when they explain that forces acting on hydrogen atoms or whatever they say are the base particles
produces over time all the other elements which in turn produce the varieties of the biological kingdom. It
sounds plausible. So that when we want to know how something is done we describe the sequence that leads to
the end result. Science is very good at doing it. We should be grateful for its triumphs. My problem is that the

2
answer to the question how doesnt touch on any of the issues I want resolved. It doesn’t tell me why people age
and become decrepit, why there is so much suffering, why the world can seem so luminous at times, why a
child can be transfixed by beauty, why I am so amazed, why we have terrible wars (and the most terrible one,
the one with atomic weapons which will be more devastating than all the previous ones combined is still in the
future), why good intentions, why are children murdered, why are children taking to drugs and committing
suicide, why have people stopped singing … why must we all die? When one of my kids was still a teenager he
announced with great satisfaction that everything was explainable by the particle theory. Lets do a thought
experiment. Suppose it is possible to make a human being from the constituent particles (call them genes if you
like) and we assemble a bunch of them at great expense and effort in a laboratory (a romp in bed would be
easier and the preferred method for mine) and they turn out OK and one day they are sitting in a cafe discussing
life, what makes them tick. And one of them, the one with the impoverished imagination, says its perfectly
simple he’s seen the plans theyve all been made from elementary particles by scientists in a laboratory.
Complete explanation – end of problem. I think that most of those around the table (drinking cocktails and
cappuccinos) would agree with him as they would almost certainly be great admirers of the scientists who made
them (though the replicants in Bladerunner werent) and would probably be practising science as their religion.
But I reckon there’d be one there, the eccentric or the poet perhaps, untidy and dirtier than the rest and already
drunk, who’d say hey, thats not right, what do you mean, I object. It doesnt explain anything to say I’m made
from little particles even if the scientists did make me like that. It just makes it more extraordinary and stranger.
It doesnt explain why I want to sing, why I want to fly, the amazing things I imagine, why everything is so
awesome, why I am in love, why at times I feel like vomiting over you guys. I think you would agree at this
point in the thought experiment they would turf him out. But lets suppose they show some tolerance and the one
with the most impoverished imagination answers the objection. No problem mate, he says, keep your shirt on,
when we make the next batch we can fiddle with those genes (theyre like little packages with all the info) and
find out what to delete so that the new guys dont get your problems, so that they dont get those inconvenient
flying urges, or fall in love, or rock the boat for that matter. While we’re at it we might as well get rid of the one
that gives people the weird imaginings and visions, theyre too confusing and cause most of them to end up in
loony bins, which is where I reckon you belong. I dont know which side youre on in this thought experiment
but I’m on the side of the loner. The explanation of how is only an account of a sequence, or the procedures for
assembling. The loners questions are in a different domain altogether. Scientists, if they are thoughtful, do not
pretend to be answering the question why. Yet it is the question that over the ages men have always asked most
often and most urgently. Traditionally the answers have been supplied by witchdoctors, shamans, seers, priests
and priestesses, mystics, prophets, false prophets, gurus, leaders of cults, parents, school teachers. The why
questions have always been the hard ones and even when we get the answers we dont know how to interpret
them. Life wasnt meant to be simple. Science answers the question how but when people turn it into a religion
they sometimes imagine it also answers the question why. A strange transformation can come over people who
do that. After awhile they begin to believe that the notion of knowledge itself excludes the question why. Only
those things appear to them as knowledge, and as proper subjects for study, which explain how things happen
because they are practical, achieve tangible results. Whenever these ‘religious’ types are bothered by the
question why they dismiss it from their minds and if they are bothered by the kinds of experiences which raise
the question or contribute to answering it they practice at suppressing them in themselves. It may be that with
constant practice (or selective breeding) we can totally eliminate the awareness of these or their very existence
from the human condition. Also, as the man with the impoverished imagination in the thought experiment
might suggest, we could tinker with the genetic code so as to produce only people who thought or felt as if they
would live forever and when their time came (somewhere around the age of 130) would die suddenly and
painlessly in their sleep.
Todays saint is St John Berchmans (Confessor 1599-1621) who was the son of a Flemish tanner and
shoemaker. When he was only 17 he was received into the Jesuit Order and two years later sent to Rome for his
studies, as one who was “outstanding for his religious spirit and intelligence.” In company with a fellow student
he traversed the 900 odd miles in ten weeks entirely on foot. At the Roman College, what was his delight when
he found himself assigned to the very room which St Aloysius Gonzaga had occupied 31 years before, for it had
been the reading of the young Saints biography which had induced him to become a Jesuit! A brilliant student,
John was also remarkable for his charity to others, for his cheerfulness and his modesty. St John Berchmans
was only 22 years old when God called him to his reward. The Church has declared him the special Patron of
Mass Servers.
20/8/00 (* …. *  DANYO RESERVE (no 53)). Ah well, might as well start the day with the
next saint. Its 8.30am; I’ve just had breakfast; still havent left Worlds End. The entry for St Bernard of

3
Clairvaux is even longer than for John Eudes so here is a summary. St Bernard (Abbot Confessor, Doctor of the
Church 1091-1153) came from one of the leading noble families of Burgundy. He gave up a knightly career to
become a monk and joined the Cistercian monastery bringing with him 30 like minded companions including
his widowed father, an uncle and four brothers. He is considered the second founder of the primitive austerity
of St Benedict’s original Rule. The best known branch of the Cistercians today is the Order of the Trappists.
Because of his outstanding erudition, intellectual and persuasive powers however he was drawn into every
major ecclesiastical controversy. Thus he ably exposed the fallacies in Abelard’s teaching which exalted human
reason and rationalism. He wrote his much esteemed “Book of Considerations” to stress the need of personal
sanctity in the visible Head of the Church – all temporal matters being secondary. (Bill Clinton take note). The
event which has become associated the most in the popular mind with St Bernard’s name is the Second
Crusade. When Jerusalem and Antioch were threatened by the fall of Edessa in 1144, the Pope ordered St
Bernard to preach the Crusade, and this he did with the utmost eloquence and success throughout France and
Germany, even moving the German Emperor Conrad III and his nephew Barbarossa to tears. The whole
continent was roused, ordinary business came to a standstill, or was entrusted to women while the men took up
the cross; miracles were multiplied at every step. But when lack of discipline, over-confidence and certain
intrigues and treason combined to bring the Crusade to nought, St Bernard was made the scapegoat. The
“Doctor Mellifluus” was outstanding for his tender devotion to Our Lady and has left some of the finest
mystical writings of medieval times. *I’m back in the Danyo reserve. Doing tight turns on a minor track
through scrub I thought this is how a fox feels returning to his lair. I am happy with what I have written over
the two weeks. I dont think I’ve been imitating anyone and I dont think I’ve been giving expression to the
expectations of others that I migh have internalised. Borges claims that all honest writing is autobiographical
and he was speaking of fiction and writers like Dante. The idea is that we are specks in a whole and if we are
true to ourselves we say something of value. Georges Perec, who had wanted to be a writer since childhood,
says that in the final analyses writing for him is an exercise in being sincere. (I hope youre paying attention
Jane). I’ve been sincere. I say it as I drain my stubby of Coopers Stout which I bought in Pinaroo because I
knew the pub at Murrayville would almost certainly be shut as the publican visits his girlfriend on weekends
and shes in Horsham. He drives due south through the Big Desert on a track thats fine in dry weather. I wonder
if Bas Salt has started reading ‘Yawning Heights’ which he promised to read some of and give me an opinion as
a penalty for having recommended Victor Pelevins ‘Lives of Insects’ without having read it first himself. I
bought that book and read 60 pages of it. I’ve got an aboriginal arrowhead for Tony Figallo that I picked up at
Lake Gairdner. I think I’ve satisfied the demand that various people make that I write up trips of mine. I hope
Adriana finds it an adequate substitute for the Arte-Postale letters that I indicated I might send her but didnt. I
hope this goes some way to answering Walter Struve when he says I should write an autobiography. Both the
trip, Walter, and the account were my inventions. I could have done the same trip but written it up differently
(which reminds me, the pastry cook at Wirrabara says its the bacon and steak and the mushroom and steak pies
that are her best sellers and I havent even tried those) or did the trip differently, or even gone on a different one
or not at all and written the same account. History is like that. Its 3pm and I’m going to crack a stubby of
Southwark Old Stout. Its my third stubby and I feel a bit guilty. Then I’m going to relax for a couple of hours
with Thomas Bernhard’s ‘Old Masters’ of which I’ve read 40 pages so far and I can guarantee, Bas, that its a
good read.*
10/9/00 (7/9/00 – 16/9/00 (no 10)). Breakfast in Brunswick st. Finished the Padre Pio
book; dont know what to make of a guy who pulled bigger crowds and did more miracles than jesus christ.
Now I can resume Ludwig Wittgenstein’s ‘Philosophical Investigations’ which I at least understand. Blew a
fuse so was able to show Helen how to replace one. Rang Andrew Saniga – he’s having a really good time;
loving the uni, enjoying the work; Lynne has only 5 weeks to go.
17/9/00 (17/9/00 & 18/9/00 (no 12)).
In the beginning is the word
As the sperm meets the egg
Etching into every surface of the cell
Replicating as the cell divides
Till we are all living towers of babel
Each shouting our unique word
Combining, recombining
Matching, rejecting
Seeking, dismissing
Until we have made
The simple

4
 Perfect poem (20/7/10. pom  H)

BBQ with just Ben & Dan (& Christine Hollis was there for a while). It was very calming after I
had realized during the night that ‘10/1/01’ could be, or at least had to be taken seriously, as a
candidate for the last day. I told Helen that’s what I thought and discussed whether we should
withdraw cash from the bank as I feel there could be an intervening period where the electronic
systems could collapse. Before I write on this one I need more signs. It certainly would be the last
piece of writing I would be doing (but nothing is certain). The next piece is likely to be called Corpus
Christi. On second thought depending on the timing of ‘10/1/01’ (for which I already have a good
picture) could still have a follow up on the notion of repentance though it doesn’t feel like my kind of
topic. Or preparation; dignity. Meantime I’ve put the wind right up H and am by no means calm
myself. H once again has put in a power of work completing the typing in one session. So Im ready to
run it off tomorrow as I have the covers ready to hand, including appropriate poems.
(20/7/10. Completion of days from folder 1 (nos 1-16 of Og))

3/12/00 (27/11/00 – 7/12/00 (no 17)). Last night in a state between wakefulness & sleep I
caught myself using the words “my lord & my god” by way of prayer or exclamation. What does it mean? Was
I addressing the nazarene or his God or both? I am prone to a variety of states on the margin of sleep & am
inclined to take them seriously because at these times I’m less subject to self willing & the rational process. I
put it in the record for if it contradicts what I’ve been arguing it doesnt matter since I have no claims to
authority or to a handle on truth. I see myself as someone who reports his observations & confusions; a travel
writer. Some miscellanea. I forgot to mention yesterday that there is still a patch of snow on the side of Mt.
Howitt. From the summit you can see a ski resort on a distant peak, I think it must be Mt. Buller. Back in my
spot half a k. from Dimmicks Lookout I heard a trail bike roar by in the afternoon. Before sunset when I went
for a last look at the view I came across a girl I had exchanged a few words with coming back from the summit.
It was embarrassing to intrude on her solitude especially as she would have been disconcerted to see me on foot.
She was spending the night at the turntable in her 4x4. She sounded like an experienced hiker. She was from
Mirboo North. Late at night I was surprised by a light flashing among the branches of the snowgums &
scrambled out of me sleeping bag thinking someone was driving up my track. But is was a car cruising slowly
along the road casing the forest with an immensely powerful spotlight. I hate a spotlight because usually there is
someone sitting next to it with a rifle. The girl at the turntable wouldnt have liked it either. A little later I saw it
returning with the spot in the opposite direction (9.15). 3.30: I’m 46ks away from Dimmick Lookout down from
the plateau (where everytime the sun goes behind a cloud you freeze) at Horsyard Flat in the kind of forest I’m
more used to & there are swarms of mozzies here. I’ve put Rid & Aeroguard on & later I’ll spray the inside of
the car with Mortein but they dont care. I might even have to leave after I’ve drunk me coffee. Earlier I spent 4
hours walking on a section of the track towards Lake Tali Karng that goes from McFarlane Saddle where there
is a car park I should have remained in. Todays saint is St. Francis Xavier (Confessor 1506-1552) & I was going
to transcribe quite a long entry as both my saint books have the same one for once. Also some people who went
to Xavier College & might have been interested in their old school patron (Peter, Danius, Julien, Vytas?) are on
my mailing list. But the mozzies are ferocious so they can get it off the net. I too went to a jesuit school, St. Pats
in East Melbourne, which has since been pulled down but used to glory in being the elder of the two. Hence our
patron saint was St. Ignatius of Loyola, the first jesuit. St. Francis Xavier was the second jesuit & was for
awhile Loyolas secretary. So there! I grew to hate my school but not Father Quigley who was a good natured
old codger & taught me religious instruction. He showed his sense of humour by a habit of awarding me top
marks in spite of my contrary views & dubious reputation. I still have a book somewhere on the railways of the
world with the insignia of the school (two wolves holding a big pot … what was that about?) inside the front
cover saying that it was my prize for coming first in Algebra, Geometry, & Religion. I think that was in form 2.
Incidentally I was a non-paying student. I’m giving in, got to leave! These chemicals dont work even though
they are made by large reputable international companies. Dont get me wrong I’m not criticising: they smell
great & feel beaut on the skin. I’m heading for Marathon Rd. that goes south into Briagalong …8.10 pm. Who
would have thought I’d be at Marley Pt. on the Gippsland Lakes for the night. There is no-one here; its as
dreamy as every other time I’ve been here. I’m 5 foot from the retaining wall against which small waves are
breaking as there is quite a strong easterly blowing. What a sound to go to sleep on. It was interesting after
Horseyard Flat … when I got to Marathon Rd. there was a sign saying 56ks to Briagalong, 4x4 only, steep
grades. So I was in one of those classic dilemmas: do I take the advice of an individual who had looked
trustworthy & as a roadworker had to know what he was talking about or do I obey the sign put up by the parks

5
authority. I headed up the road & I was into a second gear upward slope right from the beginning. O.K. but at
the top the road was really shit & there were many stones on it the size of bricks & sharp edged as if they had
been loosened from a quarry with explosives. Then I got into a down hill grade: it started steep, then became
extremely steep, then still steeper – & it kept going on & on. If anything the single lane road was still more shit
than before & I had to cross a couple of transverse gutters or runoffs that went all the way across. It went on &
on & when I thought it couldn’t go on any further it still went on. At some point I realized that I could never
make it back up even if I could have turned the van around which I couldnt. I wasnt to know that I hadnt yet
made it half way down the slope. Finally after what felt like 20 minutes of driving I had got on to the flat & to a
spot on the saddle of a ridge with great views either side & I stopped to consider my options. I was tempted to
spend the night there but I had been told by a walker earlier in the day that thunderstorms were predicted & I
thought I couldnt risk creeks cutting the lower sections of the road or trees falling across (I had driven past
several huge gums that had been recently cut up to clear them off the road). I looked at my speedometer to see
how far I had gone – I had done 5ks, 51 to go. I headed off again because in situations like this there is a blind
instinct which says go. I was composing in my head all sorts of sarcastic things I could write about the
roadworker. But the track got better & better & I was in Briagalong by 6 pm & kept on to Stratford because I
realized I could go on to spend the night here at Marley Point. At Stratford I was in town for the first time in a
week & what better to do when you hit civilization than to spend, spend, spend. So I bought $30 of petrol, rang
Helen for $3 worth & bought 2 stubbies of Vic. Bitter & one of Invalid Stout (1 st drinks in a week) for $5 ie $38
bucks in a day. Helen was home too. She is making heaps more christmas cards; Mark Maughan finally got my
message on his answering machine saying that I want some work done on the West Melbourne house & I’ve got
to ring back as soon as I’m home; the Walls had a street party or get together for the immediate neighbours like
they once did before about 20 years ago & Helen said it was very pleasant; Dan is leaving for Sydney before I
get home at the end of the week (I said by friday so I could take H out to the Bocadillo as per usual); Kate got a
distinction for her essay that finishes off her honours year which is great news as I had thought it might be too
good to be appreciated by academe (also I felt guilty for having put it on my mailing list before she had even
submitted it); Bens been ordered to cut the grass in the back yard of the West Heidelberg house because its a fire
hazard. Thats about it – what a beautiful night!
18/2/01 (13/2/01 – 26/2/01 (no 18)). Lets return to the ‘doubles’, those very theoretical
entities that start their lives as words with noble intentions but end up being used by the powerful to simplify &
manipulate people. ‘Human nature’ is another one. Foucaults criticism of Chomskis argument in their televised
discussion was on this basis. But there are more of them. If clerics own the soul & politicians human nature the
mind is surely owned by psychiatrists. Because the laziest way of controlling behaviour is to target specific
areas or functions of the brain with chemicals most people probably believe that the mind coincides with the
brain. A sort of ghost of the brain. But we cannot even show that thinking takes place in the brain (see
Wittgenstein) let alone that an airy-fairy entity like the mind sits in there. Lets treat the mind as a shorthand
way of denoting a host of different ideas, including thinking (whatever that is – see Wittgenstein), that we are
referring to when we say we are conscious beings. That would include feelings, perceptions, awareness of self.
Where does it reside? It can’t be in the body because if you cut the head off its gone. But it can’t be in the head
because if you cut the body off its also gone. So at the very least we would have to add the nervous system to
the brain as a candidate for the minds place of residence. But if you peel away all the body parts from the brain
& its nerves there is still no mind so we have to include the rest of the body as all the nerves are connected to it.
But our awareness of self (etc) could not exist without the senses which in turn connect us to the things we hear
& see. The connections to what we hear (sound waves) & see (light waves) & the other senses (taste:
chemicals) are made of exactly the same things as the connections within the body between cells. The things we
hear, see & eat are the substances of the world around us so it too has to be included as the home of the mind.
The mind is all over the place! The point I’m making is that everything is connected most intimately &
intricately by the stuff of the earth. The reason I was proposing a model of the brain consisting of electrical
circuit boards (for want of a better metaphor) was to emphasise it. If we are talking about the body we can talk
about inside/outside the dividing boundary being the skin, if we define it that way, but there is no inside/outside
when talking about the mind. Personally I dont talk about the inside/outside of the body either: the skin is very
porous and there are large holes in it & heaps of stuff spilling & oozing out & other stuff getting crammed in.
(2/3/01. Thomas Henry Huxley puts it differently: “The parallel between a whirlpool in a stream and a living
being which has often been drawn, is just as it is striking. The whirlpool is permanent, but the particles of water
which constitute it are incessantly changing.”) Thats apart from the sensory threads that always keep us tied to
& part of the earth. I dont know where this is leading. Maybe I’m managing to illustrate Chogyam Trungpas
claim that displays of knowledge & experience are a form of grandstanding. Today I was off at 8.30 & didnt get

6
back till 4.00. Went along a barely discernable pad that takes you from the end of Bunga Beach over the top of
Bunga Head to the Aragunna camping area in Pt. Mimosa Rocks N.P. Then I clambered over the Mimosa Rock
itself & inspecting a few rock holes & crevasses with goggles & snorkel. Got far enough around the head to see
back to Bunga Beach. Found a serious defect in my state-of-the-art made in the U.S.of A. Five Ten sandals: the
velcro tabs come undone when you swim in them. I still havent found anything to beat the old cheapo Dunlop
sandshoes before they changed the insole to the crummy one they have now that collapses in water.
The saint. St. Simeon (Bishop Martyr c8BC – c112AD). St. Simeon, the son of Clephas, is called “a
brother of our Lord” in the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. Mark, that is, a first cousin, for his mother was a
sister of the Blessed Virgin. As one of the 72 disciples he was present at Christ’s Ascension and at the Descent
of the Holy Ghost at Pentecost; he is also thought to have been one of the two men whom the risen Christ
joined on the road to Emmaus after His Resurrection. At Easter in the year 62, St. Simeon’s brother St. James
the Less, the first Bishop of Jerusalem, was killed by the Jews, and St. Simeon, who had not hesitated to
reproach fearlessly the Jews for their action, was thereupon elected to succeed him. During his episcopate a
number of heretical sects sprang up, which denied the divinity of Christ and other fundamental truths, and so
troubled the unity of the young Church. In the year 66 God warned St. Simeon of the impending destruction of
Jerusalem, and the Bishop accordingly moved his faithful to Pella 65 miles away, on the opposite shore of
Jordan. Four years later, Titus’ army entered Judea in order to suppress the Jewish uprisings and laid siege to
Jerusalem for five months before taking and destroying it in the year 70. At that time 600,000 Jews lost their
lives; but the Conacle, which had been the scene of the Last Supper and the Descent of the Holy Ghost,
providentially escaped the general destruction and later became dedicated as a church. The Christian
community and their Bishop are believed to have returned to the ruined city and to have lived there until
Hadrian in 134 razed it completely to the ground. St. Simeon was able to survive the persecutions of Vespasian
and Domitian, when every descendant of the House of David was supposed to have been put to death, but in the
year 112 when Trajan took up the persecution of the Church, some Jewish heretics denounced St. Simeon as a
relative of our Lord and a Christian. As a result he was imprisoned, most atrociously tortured for several days
and in the end crucified. He had attained the venerable old age of about 120 years. With his death we arrive at
the close of the so-called Apostolic Age, for he is believed to have been the last survivor of the disciples who
had actually seen and conversed with our Lord. Reflection: “When the enemy has been cast out of your hearts,
renounce him, not only in word, but in work; not only by the sound of the lips, but in every act of your life.”
(St. Augustine)
25/2/01. It can be argued that a unique experience is impossible for how would you recognize it.
I am using the words experience, perceptions, sensations interchangeably as I am not able to make easy
distinctions. Certainly when you describe a perception that you think another person may not have had you
anchor it to more common sensations you think he might know for which there is a shared language. Thomas
Bernhardt might argue that no experience can be described: that it is destroyed in the act of description. Some
people who have what they imagine to be unique auditory & visual perceptions may discover on reading the
christian ecstatics that they belong to an ancient fellowship with an extensive literature. The same is true of
other cultures. Last night I had a perception that I am having more frequently recently though no two occasions
are identical. A stillness, starting with the closed eyes (or behind them) envelops the face (lips & jaw muscles
go slack & freeze) hands & arms & then the chest. Then it rolls down the torso to the legs. You feel yourself
breathing very evenly in the stomach while the chest is gripped in immobility. Sometimes breathing stops for a
while & is followed by an isolated deep breath. You get floating sensations as if different parts of the body
expand or contract. It is trance like & deeply peaceful. On one occasion in the past I realised my eyes were
open. On another I think it lasted all night though it felt like an instant. All I was aware of was a single beautiful
melody. I woke up extraordinarily refreshed as if I had slept for a week. That was about 10 months ago. I
expect there is plenty written about it by people who practice yoga though in my case it has not been something
you seek through disciplines or relaxation techniques, all that is needed being to recognise the onset so as not to
prevent it. A completely different experience (though perhaps related) is more surprising. I had it in an extreme
form on 3 occasions & several more times in a subsidiary way. I wont forget it. One occasion was on the trip
I’ve described as the one with Paranoia & the others in subsequent weeks. It involves the whole body as if
everything is nervously connected & electrical discharges take place in waves or clusters throughout. All the
occasions were during the day & started with me lying on my back listening to music through earphones and
then putting them aside. On the three extreme occasions the final phase consisted of a sensation of turning into
or being drawn into a shaft of light. I suspect that during that phase breathing stops. It comes with a rush of
extraordinary beauty & you are inclined to let yourself go except that you know it is death & a sense of
responsibility for those you leave behind (you dont want them to have to get rid of a body on the couch) makes

7
you draw back at the last moment. The overwhelming sense is one of a transformation, preceded as it is by all
kinds of bodily spasms as if breaking out of a cocoon. I can be even more accurate in the description, throwing
anchors onto known words: its as if self & awareness are being transformed into pure music & light. Curiously
enough I have a vague memory that I have read accounts of the ‘shaft of light’ experience by people whove
nearly died. There is someone collecting descriptions of so called ‘near death’ experiences & it may be that this
is one of the most frequently given. I told Helen afterwards that if I had let go I would have died. I still suspect
that it is the case. I am sure that people with a traditional christian viewpoint would interpret it as the souls
ascent into heaven & I have a hunch I remember that interpretation to be the usual given. I do not. The account
I’ve given is as accurate as I can make it. I have no evidence to give me an idea of what those words (soul,
heaven) mean. However the effect of the experience is an acceptance of death for oneself & for others (not pain
though). Whether everything ceases or continues in some unimaginably beautiful way is not at issue for there is
something about the experience that tells you that time is not a factor. It may be that Borges had a related
experience during his bout of septicemia when he hovered on the brink of death for weeks because he has
written a story that expresses the point about time better than I can: ‘The Secret Miracle’. & I must admit that
though soul & afterlife are not meaningful terms for me the effect of the experience is to allow for the
possibility of the traditional point of view. (2/3/01. Nor do I intend to disagree with William James when he
says: “I confess that I do not see why the very existence of an invisible world may not in part depend on the
personal response which any one of us may make to the religious appeal. God himself, in short, may draw vital
strength and increase from our very fidelity … believe that life is worth living, and your belief will help create
the fact.”) (3/3/01. I am attracted to James point of view because it does away with middle men who try to
broker our relationship with the invisible world by their claims to have inherited the original documents and
direct revelations about it.) (4/3/01. also it ennobles men by placing a responsibility on them; and makes them
accountable.) It may be that in the final analyses both they & me are talking about the same thing with a
difference in language & emphasis.
Todays saint is St. Walburga (virgin c. 710-777). Her father, St. Richard, was a thane or minor King of
the West Saxons in todays Devonshire, and her mother Winna a sister of St. Boniface, the great Apostle of
Germany. At the age of 11 St. Walburga was placed in the convent of Wimborne when her father and her two
brothers, St. Willibald and St. Winibald, were starting out on their pilgrimage to the Holy Land. In this convent,
which was famed for its high standards of holiness, discipline and learning, St. Walburga remained for 26
years. Then in 748 she and St. Lioba, together with a large number of other nuns, were sent over to Germany at
the request of her uncle St. Boniface – the first written instance of a missionary calling nuns to his aid. The new
convents and monasteries were to be, in St. Boniface’s plan, so many forts from which the Church’s spiritual
conquest of Germany could be consolidated and expanded. After a few years’ training at the Bischofshein
convent, St. Walburga was made Abbess of Heidenheim in Bavaria, not far from the monastery of which her
favourite brother, St. Winibald, was the head, and when he died a few years later, St. Walburga’s outstanding
virtues and prudence caused her to be assigned to govern also these monks, as well as her own nuns. Because of
the accounts which she wrote of St. Winibald’s life and of the two brothers’ pilgimage to Palestine she is
considered to be the first woman –author of England and Germany. Many miracles were attributed to her, both
during her lifetime and after her death on February 25th, 777. She is invoked against hydrophobia and storms at
sea. Reflection: “A soul often wants not so much spurring in the beginning of her conversion; her fervour and
cheerfulness make her run vigorously. But this fervour, unless it be continually nourished, cools by degrees;
then the devil assails her with all his might.” (St. Tarasius)
5.30. I’m a bit low. Its been drizzling all day. Weather makes a big difference when you travel this way.
I counted the number of pages I’ve written & reckon I’ve got about 25000 words which is too long: it becomes
expensive & too much for H to type. But I dont have much control. The writing has its own momentum; there is
nothing I can leave out. Did a final walk along Bunga beach & along a faint car track into the cleared land at the
back of it. Found another stubby holder. In all walked for 3 hours in light rain. Drove to Tathra where I had a
fishburger & latte in the wharf café. Watched a school of about 50 dolphins in the bay. Said goodbye to the lady
with the american accent who works there. Drank a stubby of Sheaf stout then drove back 10ks to where I’m
parked for the night at a day picnic spot at Bithrey Inlet. This is a beautiful spot normally but the rain has set in
properly. I suppose I should resume reading Schopenhauers ‘World as Will and Idea’ to find out what he has to
say about music. I’ll be glad to get home, I think I’ve had enough of beaches for one season.
8/4/01 (7/4/01 – 18/4/01 (no 19) & * …. *  DANYO RESERVE (no 53)). *10.05 am. I
lay in bed a long time feeling miserable & wondering if it was worth getting up. The reason I decided to head
for Lake Gairdner or the Gawler Ranges was because the overwhelming landscapes there dont leave room for
memory. When youre walking in remote country you have to pay attention to time & compass otherwise you

8
might not get back. But I wonder if it will be enough on this occasion. Ive been through some of the struggle
Ben is gripped by & I know there is no guarantee of success. Yet to survive is to reach a shore denied to others.
Most survivors agree. Whats more they agree that they have had to do it by themselves; or with help only from
god some say. Ben is determined to manage without drugs. He is right if he succeeds. Todays saint is St. Julie
Billiart (virgin 1751 – 1816) & I will put some detail in about her because she is the founder of the order of
nuns called the Sisters of Notre Dame. They have two convents in Victoria: one in Sale & the other in Box Hill
in Melbourne. When my mum & me & my sister Rasa came to Sale in 1950 we were at first housed in the
convent. (19/4/01. Father stayed back in Bathurst for a few months as he had work there). From the passage
across the hall from our room on the 2nd or 3rd floor I could look through a small window into the chapel where
a newly arrived young hungarian priest used to sing the masses. To have the masses sung was a huge novelty to
the nuns most of whom were quite old & I could tell that they were in love with him. Later we lived across the
road in an old leaky house that has since been pulled down to be replaced by the garage that is there now. My
mum taught german, latin, & french at the convent but she also had to take on sewing because she was
underpaid by the nuns. For quite a while we used to walk across the road to the convent where we were served
a main meal in a room next to the kitchen area. Once a week it consisted of tripe & I still shudder at the
memory. There was an italian gardener/janitor who had been there since before the 1st world war but couldnt
speak english. A very nice nun who corresponded with the other Notre Dame convents around the world gave
me stamps that led to a terrific collection which would probably be worth a fortune by now except that I gave it
away to someone when we came to Melbourne. Another, but cranky, nun taught me piano. I was supposed to
practice daily but instead I used to duck around behind the high corrugated tin fence of the convent grounds &
practice marbles till I became one of the best players at St. Pats college on the other side of town where I went
to school accompanied by my dog Margis. I used to watch him through the classroom window waiting for me
in the street outside occasionally creeping up behind an old lady passing by to bite her on the ankle. I think
someone had him put down. So back to St. Julie Billiart. She took a vow of chastity at 14. When the family
farm was lost she had to hire out & work for others. When she was 23 an attempt was made on her fathers life
& the shock caused her to become paralysed from fright so that she remained a helpless bed-ridden cripple for
the next 30 years. But her spirit was not broken & she continued her mystical life. During the six years of the
French revolution (1789 –1795) she was always in danger of death & had to be secretly moved to Compiegne,
Amiens, Bethancourt & finally back to Amiens. Mass & communion were possible only when some hunted
priest was in the neighbourhood. Through all this she continued to direct her charity work aimed at poor
orphans & later girls in general. In 1803 her work was put on a permanent basis with the founding of the
‘Institute of the Sisters of Notre Dame’. In the following year the crippled St. Julie, then 53, was urged by a
priest to take one single step for the love of the sacred heart of jesus & she found herself suddenly &
completely cured of her paralysis. In all she founded about 10 convents. She often travelled by cart or on foot
walking 28 miles on one occasion. She knew god would provide & once she left the sister superior of a newly
founded convent with a starting capital of one franc. There are Notre Dame convents around the world & many
of the students receive their education free of charge. My sister Rasa was one of them & my piano lessons were
also free. I dont think I paid fees in any of the schools I attended in the catholic system ….* 4.45. I am in a spot
near Worlds End station, 20ks short of Burra. The first sighting of the Lofty Ranges from the Morgan /Burra rd.
in the afternoon or evening sun never fails to give me a lift. Back at Pinaroo I checked the message bank on the
mobile. There was one from Kate (yesterday 2pm) saying she had talked to Ben on the phone & he was O.K.
She offered a deal that if I looked after myself she’d look after herself. Thats blackmail & I have to agree. Ive
used the same tactic. Returning to the primordial struggle that Ben is in & that Ive survived (though changed); I
think your chances depend mainly on those around you. I wouldnt have come through it if it wasnt for the
endurance & steadiness of Helen. She describes herself as a plodder, the old grey mare that just keeps on & on;
nothing fancy, just one foot at a time in front of the other. She has done that with honesty & responsibility for a
lifetime. After nursing me to health she had to do it all over again when our eldest Luke/Michael succumbed to
the same demons. Thats when she stopped believing in god. Then she took on a carers role with Vi in her old
age. Now that another of the kids is forced to attempt to survive the same struggle she says that if she met god
in the street she would spit in his face. I dont blame her, its the womans lot. I dont have the same problems with
god as I dont even know who he might be (see story ‘27/11/00 – 7/12/00’) but should I meet anyone who is
familiar with his ways, especially with what he wills (thy will be done …. etc. etc.) I’ll do the same. Meantime
H, who would normally have come travelling with me as it is the school holidays is staying home to ensure that
Ben doesnt forget to eat or sleep. Her task (chosen or given?) seems to be to ensure that no one connected with
her is abandoned.

9
 15/4/01. Easter sunday. St. Benedict Joseph Labre (Confessor 1748 – 1783). Benedict …
Boulogne, France … Parish Priest … Carthusian … La Trappe … Cistercians … Rome … Christendom …
Spain, France, Germany, Switzerland … Italy … New Testament … Breviary … Imitation … Christ … Assissi
…Franciscans … Rome … Colosseum … God’s … Forty Hours Devotion … Lady … Holy Week … Santa
Maria … Monti … Easter Mass … St. Benedict Joseph Labre … April … God … Imitation … Christ…
8.40am. First there is the I am, then the division into extension and movement, then comes time (am I rehashing
Schopenhauer or are we both rehashing someone else?) …. 3.15. Language came last, the crown jewel, what
makes us human but also what makes science possible which will probably transform us if it doesnt destroy us.
Its my weapon as a writer. I left at 9.00 & was back at 2.30. I wanted to walk out as into a sea. I walked on a
bearing of 260º marvelling at the vein like patterns made by ridging in the salt crust. I thought I am the earth
admiring myself. After two hours I reached the opposite shore where I walked about for an hour before heading
back. While on the other side I came across the largest collection of worked stone I’ve seen. Must have been a
‘factory’ for scrapers & spear heads. At times I could hear the distant sound of a trail bike which was a real
surprise. I wondered if it was Paul Manning looking for sheep as I think that part of the lagoon borders on
Mahanewo. Last night once the sun had properly set & the stars were brilliant in a black sky I loafed about near
the van which stood with doors, tail gate, windows, everything open, staring at the night sky for hours.
Satellites threaded their way through the milky way; there were some shooting stars. Every now & then I’d
jump up as high as I could with my arms stretched out wide as if I was trying to scoop up as many stars as I
could. I was performing a ritual. Then I was doing it more & more in quick succession because in the 3 rd quarter
Collingwood kicked 6 goals in 9 minutes. After the game finished at 9.30 I went to bed thinking that soon Ben
would be watching the replay in Melbourne which would probably keep him in front of the telly till after
midnight. Thats what I was hoping. I dont know if I slept at all. I was trying to find a way of explaining simply
how words, at their birth, before they are laid down as verbs & nouns (21/4/01. H. says I burble on too much
about language. That means I am failing to explain clearly, or to understand, or its just boring) in our neural
networks (the hard disk) are bundles of instructions synchronising or giving shape to us as part of the large
creature that is humanity. I gave up. Instead here are a few disconnected observations. Should at christmas an
eskimo and an amazonian be talking over the phone about snow they would be sharing hardly anything by
using the word except they would both agree that the white flakes they see slowly drifting down outside the
window on the telly in the movie ‘White Christmas’ is snow even though it really is bits of fluff or paper. So
just by sharing the word they have forged a minimal degree of agreement, made a small mutual alignment, a
contract to call those bits of fluff – snow. Here is another. When I asked Andrew MacTaggart for directions to
the spot I was at 10ks north of here he described what I call a ‘station track’ as a ‘good road’. By doing that he
was really saying that I would make it in my Nissan Urvan which I had explained had hardly any traction as the
engine was in the front & the working wheels were in the back with no weight over them. As it turned out there
was a short sandy patch which if it had been a bit softer could have caused me problems. But I knew that by
using the term ‘good road’ he had also made an ‘unspoken’ contract with me to pull me out if I got bogged.
Language is that complicated! When I travel in the inland I’ve long ago given up asking people about road
conditions because their answers make no sense. If he & me were to use the same words in exactly the same
way we would have had to have travelled the same roads – in which case we would have been the same person.
All words are agreements, contracts, alignments, a dancing together, a discharging of instructions. What varies
is the degree of synchronization. When its almost perfect we store them as basic verbs & when its total they
become the simple nouns, & finally the solid objects. What is stored are not the ‘words’ but the dancing & the
names of the dances. It all happened long ago.
13/5/01 (13/5/01 (no 20)).

the king has died

deserted in a distant land

inside his rib cage

two dance

one that struts and strops his beak

says
I dance like this
to honour 

10
the other
shuffles his wings and nods his head

I dance for you

my empty friend
to introduce you to the night

**

the local alley

one eyed pr er in the night

was  this evening

by the head of a

with the silent instinct

of generations of his kind
he writhed and cartwheeled
into a neighbours yard

to
or to enter another one
of his nine lives

perhaps
the curtain of night has
been rent
to admit him finally

into the paradise

of pr ers
**

I am an
I scream

( are allowed to scream)

I think that
I am pity
I am sorrow

I listen
(there is silence in screams)

I laugh

( can laugh too)

echoes of laughter

they agree
the definition of despair

11
 is an

**
before jerusalem
the crowds had already been waiting for a long 
among them were lepers
children deformed from birth
and some who were inhabited by evil spirits

as JESUS and the disciples came nearer

a centurion knelt down
offering to put his house and servants at their disposal
but said that he was a wealthy man
not worthy of their presence under his roof

the disciples were tired

for they had not rested or  for three days
JESUS turned aside and led them
to the centurions house

the pharisees
who had ed carefully gathered together
claiming that he was a false prophet

and began to plot his 

**
when the multitude had 
he was asked by one of the disciples
who would look after the people
when he was gone

JESUS
who had sought refuge by the lake
saw the crowd in the distance
and said

when I leave
brother will fall out against brother
son will disown father
bread will become stone
even the marriage wine
will turn into vinegar

and yet
if they are to enter the kingdom of my father
the restless will not find
and the starving will not be 
**
in the city
JESUS came by two b d men

12
 the b d men heard
from the noise of the crowd
that the prophet from nazareth was near
and one of them called out

lord
you can give back my sight
and immediately he was cured

the other man listened to the crowd marvel

at the power and charity of JESUS
and he said to himself

lord
thy will be done
and he remained b d

and so it was
in every city

**
the other day
I met

old father himself

instead of wearing black
he dressed in shimmering white

I’ve always seen

the scythe before
but never seen
the hourglass

he tipped it
back and forwards
like jewels
in a vase
19/8/01(13/8/01 – 25/8/01 (no 23)).

I am a flea in the fold of a camels ear. I listen to the talk of merchants & camel hands. We travel
by night guided by stars. We have stopped at a caravanserai called earth. The merchants exchange fine
carpets for jade, worked silver for gunpowder, incense for silks. They have been travelling so long that
some of them no longer remember the cities of their birth or the wives & children they left behind.
Rumour has it that the cities are buried in sand & the wives have aged or left. Some say that if we were
to return even if the cities were still there & the wives were washing at the same fountains the merchants
wouldnt recognize them because they themselves have changed. They have become used to dancing girls
with seductive glances, the soft music of eunuchs, plush carpets in sumptuous halls. One of their number
overcome by nostalgia turned around his camels laden with the rewards of his enterprise determined to
return to the hanging gardens of his youth. We never saw him again but a beggar at the gate tells a story
that he says he heard from the mouth of one of the brigands that caught up with him in a bleak desert &
cut him down. He says (some say the beggar was one of the ones standing around) that as the merchant
sat on the ground leaning forward among the rolls of silk & spices scattered about from a fallen camel,
supporting himself with a jewelled hand in the sand while the other clutched his neck to staunch the

13
blood gushing through his fingers, his last words were: “In this desolation these silks & these jewelled
hands look strangely beautiful.”

2.10. I wrote that in Port Germein the day before yesterday & liked it so much that I wanted to have it as
the only entry for today to highlight it. My writing is not normally that contrived. But its early arvo & I’ve
returned from a 4½ hour walk so I’m back into it. Last night I listened to the Collingwood/Essendon match on a
station with a lot of interference while I finished off the ½ dozen stubbies of Coopers I had brought with me.
After the game I stood outside craning my neck back as far as I could with my mouth open staring at a typically
brilliant outback sky, palms facing up, exclaiming: I am nothing! I am abject! I worship you! I have no will!
There is nothing I want! There is nothing I ask! I dont even ask for guidance there is nowhere I want to go! I
dont exist, I am sand, I am grass! I am yours! … I was drunk of course but I behave that way anyway. A starry
desert sky affects me. Those whove read my other pieces know that already. Why do I make a point of giving
an account? The reason is that I felt some reluctance to in case readers thought I was crazy. Whenever I detect
an internal censor I make a point of disregarding it. I do that because I suspect that the internalised censors are
my knowledge that there are actually real people out there, arbiters of social & moral codes, who would stop
me speaking if they could. I suspect that these real censors patrol the boundaries of what is & what is not
allowed to be said between people with the purpose of widening the distances so that they can profit by
brokering silence. If people think that they are alone in what they perceive & do they can be intimidated.
(27/8/01. Tumby Bay. The internal censors, each of which is a representative of an external lobby group, sit in
session in the house of conscience which is essential in social creatures. Some of the internal censors may need
to be retired due to old age, incompetence, or corruption of the external lobbies they represent. The lobby
groups are easy to examine because they are our neighbours. Attentive readers will know that the internal &
external are not separate – you can’t reject one without the other; they are inextricably joined in that they are
wired into our nervous system through practices: admonitions & rewards). I know that the thought crossed my
mind: who was I talking to?: the great being, the universe, the night, destiny, the stars? I was looking at the
stars & left it at that. Do I give comfort to others who behave likewise? Well no you might say, we dont carry
on like you do. But I’m not so sure. If you were here entirely by yourself with the nearest homestead a days
walk away, you just might. If youd done the things I’ve done & had the experiences I’ve had you certainly
would. But then youd be me. Come to think if it there used to be a song to the words: “I talk to the stars but
they dont answer me” – See! I dont get answered either.
An extraordinary thing happened this morning. I casually glanced at the lake as I was having a piss to
start the day & realized I was by an inland sea. It had filled! Crept up silently overnight from where I could see
water in the far distance yesterday to within 25 metres of the shore just nearby. Now its receding again. Strange
things happen when youre alone. It means I wont be doing much walking on the salt surface except very close
to shore & that can be soggy too. I left for a stroll at 9.00 heading for a range of hills that would give me a
comprehensive view. Got caught by a rain front coming through that looked mighty impressive in the distance
when I saw it approaching over hills & plains from the top of the bare mountain I was on but all it brought was
light drizzle & I had my rainshell. Heard a few desert bellbirds. Passed a couple of quondong trees laden with
unripe green berries. Followed a creek bed out of the hills through plain into the lake & came back along the
shore. Saw trail bike tyre marks crisscrossing. Quite a few in parts. Thats new. I havent got the powers of
expression to say how sorry & deflated I feel to see it. There must have been a whole party of people here.
What is gained by damaging the surface like that? I predicted over a year ago to the Andrews (at Mt. Ive) that
in the very near future a trail bike enthusiast will discover the two most convenient access routes on this side of
the lake & if that info gets into the printed material that circulates among the clubs theyll be down here in
droves overnight. To ride on the surface of the lake isnt even a test of skill. I feel the same about tyre marks on
beaches. I go a long way to avoid it. But the triumphal march of technology is relentless. The sight of tyre
marks made me wonder if I do share similar experiences & sensibilities with others as I like to imagine that I
do. I feel a physical change, a generalized discomfort, when I see natural beauty needlessly spoilt. I get a huge
lift (am adrenalized) by the sight of unspoilt rolling hills in evening sunlight. It makes a very big difference to
me if a road cuts straight through a landscape or follows the contours. If its bitumen or gravel. If its overhung
by trees or flanked by powerlines. These are senses clearly felt in the body. They are the vague senses which
are all the more pervasive for not being measurable. There are many of them including dreams. There are
senses in the joints (some people detect falling air pressure), in the groin, in the belly (irritable bowel). There
are the ones which we report with words like unease, disquiet, uncanny, premonition, déjà vu. The words we
use to describe the normal emotional life like guilt, apprehension, elation, ecstasy are also the reporting of what
we sense. Many of the vague senses are felt in the stomach & chest region but also across the shoulders &
elsewhere. I know that in sexual & certain trance like experiences I can detect a distinct, what feels like,

14
chemical flooding (or in stages) taking place in the brain. In other experiences the whole nervous system seems
to get involved. What I am wondering when I see the disregard for beauty that the tyre marks demonstrate is
whether some of us are suppressing or losing our generalized senses. Is it that because we dont know how to
measure them but we do think we can accurately measure (though its not true) seeing, hearing, taste (ie. the 6 or
whatever senses that can be specifically accounted for by individual organs) we are increasingly favouring the
precise (narrow band) senses? Have we become so impressed with what number can do that we are devaluing &
losing what we cannot add up? Are we losing our sense of beauty?
23/9/01 (22/9/01 – 1/10/01 (light type by helenz; heavy type by a … z @) (no 24)).
Yesterday’s creek by the way was running over granite & sand, an extremely attractive combination. After a
late breakfast (9.30) we walked up to a ridge for an overview of where we were – beautiful rolling hills looking
out to the blueish plain (Seymour-Yea area). Drove along some small lanes & minor roads to Merton (coffee &
paper at the roadhouse) & then to Strathbogie (a stubby, choc.frog & 2 avocados). Now at our evening spot next
to a small dam on Lima Creek where the frogs are singing & John is writing. Our immediate plan is to get to
Yackandandah via this immensely scenic set of back roads. Margaret Spiteri is going to Bali & Egle & family
are heading off to Lithuania, but I reckon we’ll be having the best trip. At Denis’ yesterday we saw a koala up
one of his manna gums, & today we’ve spotted two echidnas – if we were Japanese tourists we’d be in heaven!
The weather is still fine, though its cooler today & no doubt the night will be cold. Tomorrow we’ve got a 2 km
walk to Lima Falls if it doesn’t rain, & a walking track up a hill in the opposite direction.
President Bush has declared war. The french president says war is too strong a word. He is
wrong. The events of the first world war which changed the face of europe & made the 2 nd one inevitable
were set in motion by the assassination of one man: archduke Ferdinand. The murder of thousands in
New York has the capacity to trigger a far greater chain reaction. Our prime minister has immediately
without consulting parliament placed us in the camp of infinite justice. That nuclear weapons delivered
by rockets could be used, or for all we know, suitcase nuclear bombs assembled & placed in western
capitals for later detonation by terrorists does not seem worthy of discussion prior to defining our stance.
Infinite justice will be delivered mostly from the skies by computer nerds who can pinpoint the location
of a satellite phone to within 10 metres, of an ordinary mobile to the nearest transmission tower (but
there arent many in afghanistan) or of an ordinary phone to right where it is held in the hand. If the
latest mobiles have GPS chips in them then they also can be located to within 10 metres. We may get to
see the results on our TV screens. Our camp has wealth, power & technology & we will be very reluctant
to risk our lives at close quarters on the ground as our pampered stomachs are not used to coping with
dysentery. The terrorists have secrecy (we dont even know who they are) & time on their side. Above all
they have an intensity of hatred that convinces them that it is worth dying to kill others however
innocent. I hope that they believe they are going to heaven for if their hatred is so strong that they are
prepared to go to their certain deaths without it we are doomed. The terrorists who toppled the first
tower had been seen frolicking in a swimming pool like schoolboys. There is a symmetry here with the
death of christ: he went to his death calmly to redeem life, they went to destroy it.
30/9/01. Had an early start in anticipation of being sprung by the farmer, & so we were. What a
surprise he was – about 40 with 2 small girls, a dog & 3 lambs aboard his truck, who talked quietly and with
authority about balance, living your passion, the hardships that give rise to personal growth & certainties, & the
interconnectedness of everything – a philosopher in John’s mould. His prize-winning ram was the highest
priced in 10 years, & he had also had a $90,000 one in the 90s, but still doesn’t have a house to live in – he’s
looking forward to building one on his property called Billa Burra Burra (“River Sheep”). He is Keith McGrath
and quietly impressive he is, too. After that meeting (nothing happens by chance?) we have stopped on a true
lane off a great road (Lavistock) that comes off a road off the Yass Highway where we spotted 2 handsome
hares & a baby magpie barely able to flutter who had either fallen or jumped out of the nest. Hope he survives.
By the way, when John heard the interview with McGrath on the radio, the commentator had mentioned that the
ram wasn’t the biggest or best fleeced, but was a beautifully balanced animal – an interesting reflection on the
philosophy of its breeder. Lavistock Road was extremely visually attractive, flanked by smallish gums. We
came out at Binalong, a very pretty village & stopped at a causeway called Carr’s Crossing on a granite & sand
river called the Cumbamurra by some locals who were picnicking there, but seems to be officially known (on
the map) as Jugiong Creek. Then along a ridge road which was spectacular in its own bare way – a yellow road
flanked by lush unfenced pastures carrying mainly cattle. At the bottom of the ridge the river snakes its way
along a sandy bed & a bridge allows access. We did a nice walk along the valley to a rocky part where we had a
beaut swim in water which was very refreshing & not nearly as cold as I had expected. Then a return to the
ridge for our night spot – 360° view of sheep & cattle pastures & yellow sheets of canola on rolling hills – “the

15
vision splendid” - & even a patch of Salvation Jane underfoot & a lovely old gum to park under. The wine is
out for celebrating my birthday eve, & the sunset should be something to see. There is a small troop of black-
winged butterflies doing acrobatics above the Salvation Jane.
Continuing on in the eclectic style. We didnt know a passenger airline filled with fuel could bring
down the largest building. Now every tinpot dictator knows he has a more powerful weapon at his
disposal than all the military hardware theyve been buying from the superpowers. The superpowers have
probably known all along which is why the US shot down an iranian domestic flight in the persian gulf
when they mistakenly though it got too close to one of their warships. The US did not call that an act of
terrorism (didnt even admit to it at first) but the arabs and iranians did call it that. If a passenger
airliner filled with fuel is used to sink (if they do sink) a warship of a country at war with you that is
anchored in a port of a large city is that an act of terrorism or war? If one of those ships is full of nuclear
weapons & is powered by a nuclear reactor would that contaminate the surrounding waters or even set
off the weapons? In areas of conflict it is worth knowing now that any passenger plane can suddenly
change course & head for the tallest building in your capital city. In areas where there are many
countries & airstrips close together would you have time to react? Last year an egyptian airline pilot
committed suicide by crashing his plane. Now every suicidal pilot knows he could crash it into the tallest
building or largest ship en route. I am glad the Grollo tower which was to be the tallest building in the
world didnt go ahead. I wonder if all those highrise apartments that were being sold off the plan to
finance the construction of buildings around the centre of Melbourne are still selling. The insolvency of
the japanese financial institutions (they lent 19 for every one they had in the belief they were superior to
everyone else & could sustain a 7% p.a. growth rate indefinitely (as against us locking ourselves into a
2% growth rate)) hangs over the global financial system like a Damocles sword. How many of these
events would it take to make it implode. For make no mistake if a global run on the banks took place
they have to crash. Our financial system is predicated on the best kind of knowledge there is: the actual
experience of how our mass psychology in relation to money has worked over the last 200 years. I sense
that the psychology of the human animal is about to change. The changes that are taking place in our
lives over the last 50 years are taking place at an exponential rate. When my parents left litho land 80%
of the population still lived in villages. In times of catastrophe city dwellers could always seek refuge
among relatives in the village & in many third world countries they still do. What would happen now in a
modern industrialised state? (nevertheless I imagine australia would be one of the best countries to be in
in such a meltdown). Technology grows from us – it is what we are evolving into. It is not a metaphor to
say it like that. It is not even a growth that comes from outside & is only rooted onto us like an epiphyte
on a tree: it is an extension of ourselves coming directly from our own decisions. It is a being born. We
are transferring ourselves into technologies & digital structures. The animals & plants around us appear
to have no choice (though there are changes over the long term) in what they give birth to. Do we have a
choice? I ask the question because the time is close where we will have to get completely wired up (by US
intelligence?) to protect us from ourselves (our technologies from each other) or we will have to find a
way of turning around – returning to simpler things. I hope we can turn around but fear that it is too
late. Terrorists dont need to hijack aeroplanes: they can charter them.
28/10/01 (22/10/01 – 2/11/01 (no 26)). When I met Suzie Wall the week before
last she said she had read a Paul Auster book, ‘Leviathan’, & that though the idea of it was good she wouldnt
put it on her recommended list. Same can be said for ‘The Music of Chance’ which I finished after breakfast
this morning. It was a big disappointment after the two autobiographical pieces in ‘The Invention of Solitude’.
It was paced like a hollywood movie & the characters were as unreal. As with several other American writers
Ive read it was characterized by clarity & muscularity of language at the expense of texture & complexity.
Thats the last Paul Auster book I read. The problem is that the only other book Ive brought is the one that
claims to end all controversy. Can I bring myself to read it? After that I drove into Rainbow, town of beautiful
murals, where I read the Age in an eatery & bought some freshly baked buns. Enjoyed the drive along sealed
back roads to Nhill 70 ks away. Approaching Nhill I was disappointed to see cars zooming back & forth on the
road I was about to enter: I had forgotten it was on the Adelaide/Melbourne highway. Doesnt matter Im in the
mood to cover a few miles today as Ive decided its time to get out of the slow lane & head for the Flinders
Ranges. I need to get a bit physical. Ive written this note in the Kaniva pub & am about to head off. 1.45 … Ive
spent all day driving & when I got to Pinaroo by taking the road heading north from the Adelaide road I thought
that I could have been there in a few hours if Id driven north through Hopetoun in the first place. At Pinaroo I
rang home & Ben answered. He sounded OK, said he prefers the labouring work to the dishwashing. Dan was
asleep & I didnt want to wake him. Hes leaving for Sydney tomorrow or the day after. H wasnt home as she

16
was taking Vi out to the flicks. Joe is enjoying his job: hes probably got his first pay by now. Its 7pm & Ive
stopped on a large property because the gate was open. But Im not visible from the road as Im on the other side
of a rise a couple of ks from it. The track Im on is to a windmill & stock watering point & looks as if it gets
used only once a month or so but there doesnt appear to be any stock about so I dont expect its being used at all
for the time being. My general location is west of the road that goes from Pinaroo to Loxton … This is a great
spot to stop for the night: Im in a depression in open country like in a huge bowl; all the horizons are a couple
of ks away & Im getting one of those sunsets that painters go for (Claude Lorraine, Poussin) where multiple
shafts of light are streaming through cloud. There is a very aromatic herb underfoot. When I stopped the car I
could smell it even before I got out from having driven over it …Flushed a quail.
(21/7/10. Completion of days from folder 2 (nos 17-26 of Og))

10/2/02 (7/2/02 – 22/2/02 (no 28)).

The harmony past knowing sounds more deeply than the known.
Heraclitus

Thus in the abysmal dark the soul is known by scent.

Heraclitus

Of all the words yet spoken, none comes as far as wisdom, which is the action
of the mind beyond all things that may be said.
Heraclitus

Woke early to the sound of frogs serenading & the faintest glow in the sky. Much later there was a
single distant chuckle of kookaburras & much later again the bell birds who are dominant in the vicinity started
chiming in. After breakfast as I sat copying the above quotes a whip bird, various tiny birds, lorikeets & a
wonga pigeon with its irritatingly insistent, repetitive call joined in. When the sky darkened I left. A bloke (fruit
picker from Menindie) I talked to yesterday evening said it rained for a good part of the two weeks hes been
here. I can tell, there are lakes where there were only paddocks this time last year. I thought to continue writing
in my spot in Biamanga National Park 5ks this side of Bermagui. I had wanted to stop there from the start as I
had it in mind to comment on issues related to ones I was writing about then. But when I got there I found the
track in was a series of huge puddles. I walked in to check it out & found that you can no longer get a car in as
new bollards have been driven in blocking off the side track. The arm chairs I had sat on to do the writing (see
back cover of ‘13/2/01 – 26/2/01’) have collapsed, one is missing. So Ive stopped next to the road by the bridge
at the entrance of Baragoot Lake to the ocean. There is a variety of birds on the shore nearby: 11 pelicans, ½ of
them asleep with their heads tucked under their wings; over 20 cormorants, mostly black but also some pied, a
few holding their wings ‘out to dry’; there were ½ doz black swans making beautiful deep flutey conversation
before flying off disturbed by my presence; there is a bittern standing stock still in a small clump of weeds like
an island in the water; a large pure white egret with black legs prodding in the shallows is the only bird that is
active; 2 gray cranes are preening themselves a hundred or so yards away from the main group; & I nearly
forgot to mention the seagulls because they are so common. Its 9.25 am. Just now I was distracted by the
chirping of a small bird which sounded extremely close, almost on top of me. & so it was. As I craned my neck
out of the door of the van I spotted it perched on the drainage channel about a foot from my nose. It was a
honey eater with yellow wings. Continuing with the quotes.

Although we need the word to keep things known in common, people still
treat specialists as if their nonsense were a form of wisdom.
Heraclitus

Some, blundering with what I set before you, try in vain with empty talk
to separate the essences of things and say how each thing truly is.
Heraclitus

A word has no meaning other than its usage.

Sayings of a …z @ …

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 A few weeks ago back in Melbourne I got pretty excited about the prospect of tackling the question:
“What is truth?” Previously I had been inclined to dismiss it & have had no inclination to pursue it myself.
Perhaps I had been overly influenced by Wittgensteins discussion of grammatical ‘knots’ & what he claims is
the nonsense that they disguise which he attempts to make patent. The more I considered his point of view the
more I realized how conceited it was, or at least that his attitude itself disguised a contradiction (pushed it one
step further). What is truth, where the word is used in the general way a cartoonist might if he drew a picture of
a man climbing to the peak of the mountain & posing it to the guru who sits there, has always been asked. A
question asked by so many great men over the ages is certainly important. The issue is why do we ask a
question to which we dont expect an answer? What process is involved (the actions of it) in the asking of it? As
I say I got pretty excited about it & thought that the effort to give answers would keep me out of mischief on
this trip. Then it all evaporated. So much froth. I cant even remember the chains of language I employed then.
Nevertheless here goes, not so much a search for answers, as a curiosity to find out what can be said about it.
One thing we do when we ask any question is direct it to someone. If we direct it to a scientist he might
talk about the experimental method & verifiable predictions. The guru on the mountain top is likely to say
things that are vague, mystifying, contradictory. Plato talked about the forms or ideals or abstractions which
were more real than the world of shadows we live in (though he probably abandoned this world picture in late
life). Early christian scholars turned Platos ideal forms into gods thoughts. The answer will be determined by
who we address it to so that at the moment that we pose the question we already have designated the domain
where we expect to find the answer & since nearly everything is outside that domain we have already made
assumptions about just about everything before we hear it. This is another way of saying the answer is in the
question. Another thing we do is we transfer authority from ourselves to the one we address the question to. We
say we cannot answer it but you probably can & since you are so smart we will accept it even though we cannot
understand what you say – enter the expert. Foucaults lectures in ‘Fearless Speech’ are an examination of the
criteria that were used in classical greece to determine who was a legitimate truth sayer. Some of the required
qualities were consistency, courage (Diogenes of the Tub told Alexander the Great to get out of his light & that
he was illegitimate), that the truthsayer be male, that he be a citizen of Athens & so on. The interesting thing is
that the qualities required of a truthsayer can be shown to be a social product that changes with time. If we
believe with Foucault, as I do, that what the truthsayer says is the truth then we have to accept that it is always
changing, evolving. I am talking about language, not wisdom. I notice that people find it disturbing, even
unacceptable, that truth should be mobile. They would prefer with Plato that it be fixed in a spot eternally still
(in a kind of hyper space perhaps). It would give them a chance of locating it & though not necessarily
understanding it (for that would be presumptuous) at least to bask in it or be illuminated, however slightly, by
its eternal glow. If it were so there would be no value in forging consensus which is always changing. I go
further (where angels fear to tread) with the claim that if it were so, consensus would be impossible, have no
meaning, & even the word wouldnt exist. The important thing to note about Platos forms was that the guardians
required a special education (maths, music, P.Ed.) & that Plato himself wrote the curriculum. Plato was the first
to be in charge of the academy; the first academic. The path to truth (dhammapada?) that he promoted is
inherited by contemporary academics, philosophers & theologians. It is wordy, exists within an interlocking
system of accreditations in society, is funded by governments.
In Bermagui I bought a piece of fish (marlin, $3.50) at the fish co-op in the port area. Drank a pot of
beer in the pub decorated with the plaster cast marlin & which has the unusual pissoire (which has a meter
section separated by a panel for a shy person). Investigated the activity in the park. There are two sets of events
going on there: a dog show & a christian symposium. The christians have a very large tent called ‘Tent of
Promise’ (promises, promises). Taken jointly they make a palindrome: dog-god. Went on to Mystery Bay
where I tried to ring H. Wanted to suggest she find out what Doig has to say about the surrounding nursing
homes. Hed have an idea because hed be visiting them on his rounds. But I couldnt get through though I tried
repeatedly. Now that H is on the fucken internet we cant communicate. Its overcast & surprisingly cold. Im
spending the night in a ‘basic amenities’ park which is as good as empty. Its in a stand of large spotted gum
with an understorey of burrawang cycads. This kind of forest started in Tathra & is the characteristic vegetation
along the coast northwards for the next 100ks at least.
17/2/02. I read the John Freely book ‘The Lost Messiah’ which is the story of Sabbatai Sevi
known to history as the False Messiah in a day & have forgotten the detail. I have the book with me & could
check it for accuracy but I am interested only in the broadest comparisons not in scholarship. For anyone
interested its published in 2001 in hardcover by Viking of the Penguin Group. Here is a quote: “Sabbatai Sevi
… was born in 1626 to a Jewish family in Izmir, Turkey’s principal port on the Aegean. He was educated as a
rabbi, but his unconventional behaviour and unorthodox ideas prevented him from serving a congregation in

18
one of the synagogues of the city, from which he was forced into exile. He returned to Izmir in 1665, after
having declared that he was the Messiah, the saviour for whom the Jews had been waiting since biblical times.
He then went on from there to Istanbul, attracting numerous followers from over the dispersed Jewish world.
The following year he was arrested by order of Mehmet IV ….” By the time of his arrest much of the jewish
world was in ferment at the news of the arrival of the messiah. The largest jewish community in existence, that
of Salonika, were overwhelmingly his followers. They called him AMIRAH from the initials of the hebrew for
‘Our Lord and King, his Majesty be exalted’. The jewish diaspora was profoundly unsettled at the time by the
Chmielnicki massacres of 1648 – 49 & many feared the approach of an apocalyptic cataclysm with the hope
that the messiah would soon appear. “Messiahs had appeared periodically in Jewish history, arousing the hopes
of the dispersed Jews and in the end leaving them in desolate disappointment. But still they continued to hope,
encouraged by the predictions of the mystical movement known as the Kabbalah, whose masterwork, the
Zohar, prophesied that one day the Messiah would appear and lead the Jews back … to redemption in the Land
of Israel.” Remnants of the movement in the form of the secretive sect known as the Donme (‘turncoats’ in
turkish) survived in Istanbul into the 20th century. Perhaps some still do & believe that the messiah is alive, in
disguise, because when the cave, guarded by a dragon, in which he was buried after he died in exile in Albania
in 1676 was entered by his brother, after three days, the body was gone. Here are some comparisons with the
prophet from nazareth: In the case of both messiahs their actual ministry was short, lasting for about a year in
each case. Both began by scriptural prophesies being fulfilled. Jesus was baptised by John, with water, who
prophesied that he would baptise with the holy ghost. Sabbatai Sevi had gone from Cairo to be purified by
Nathan of Gaza (in 1665) who though considerably younger was being hailed as a great prophet who instead
declared that Sabbatai Sevi was the messiah whose arrival had been predicted in a vision. Nathan, who
remained a devoted follower all his life & outlived Sabbatai by four years, describes the vision in his ‘Book of
Creation’. During the vision he suddenly saw the image of Sabbatai engraved on the merkabah, the sphere of
the divine sefiroth, & a prophetic voice issued forth: “Thus saith the Lord, behold your saviour cometh,
Sabbatai Sevi is his name. He shall cry, yea roar, he shall prevail against his enemies.” At the time of their
ministry both messiahs were relatively young, the nazarene about 30 & Sabbatai about 40. It is interesting to
compare their relationships to their own community. It appears that the followers of jesus came mainly from the
class of the poor & dispossessed. He does not appear to have gained any support from the religious leadership
of the jews & he does not appear to have taken much part in religious ceremony let alone conducted such. The
sharing of wine & bread at the last supper was the closest perhaps (my knowledge of these things is negligible,
a rank amateurs, so I am happy to be corrected on everything) that he came to presiding over a ceremonial
event. Sabbatai also received the bulk of his following from the least reputable sections of jewish communities
but substantial proportions of rabbis & learned men of most major cities, including some of the leaders, became
devoted followers (later many pretended they hadnt been). He presided in a formal capacity in ritual ceremony
& was renowned for the spiritual intensity of his singing. By 1666 his following was so large that business was
coming to a halt in many cities of the ottoman empire as jews closed or sold off enterprises in preparation for
the return to the promised land & redemption. I am interested in the light of the comments I made earlier on
‘truth’ to compare exactly who it was that handed over authority over themselves to their respective messiahs.
In both cases they were undermined & denounced to the authorities (roman & ottoman) by sections of the
leadership of their own communities. I suppose it is the owners of tradition that have most to lose when the
messiah finally arrives. It is interesting in this regard to note the nazarenes claim that he had not come to
change the law whereas Sabbatai expanded the commandments to 16 & made changes in ritual to the extent of
reversing the intent of several important observances. The prophet from nazareth was ambivalent regarding his
own status other than the claim that he served the will of god. Sabbatai on the other hand was definite in his
claims to be the messiah & by his actions increasingly laid claim to being god himself. He made a point
(opposite to the nazarene) of doing “that which is forbidden” such as uttering, and encouraging his followers to
utter, gods secret name. I find it astonishing that this was acceptable to them as I would have thought that the
notion of messiah would be modelled on the example of moses the patriarch who led the jews from exile to the
promised land. Clearly moses was not god as it was from god that he received the commandments. As a
renowned rabbinical scholar Sabbatai (& Nathan of Gaza) would have been aware of this. But I know even less
about jewish scriptures than about christian ones & it may be that the blurring of the distinction between god &
saviour is implicit there. There is a strange irony in the fact that the nazarene who came with the avowed
purpose not of changing the law but to fulfil the prophecies was in the end so comprehensively rejected by the
jews whereas Sabbatai, for awhile, raised such excited hopes. Both, of course, had the reputation of being
miracle workers (though neither did as many as the modern catholic saint Fra Pio is reputed to have.
Interestingly Sabbatai was said to leave a scent of roses which led to his enemies accusing him of wearing
perfume. Fra Pio is also said to have exuded a fragrance of flowers). Learned rabbis & scholars not only from

19
the ottoman empire but also from far away places in europe reported that they were literally blinded by the light
in Sabbatais face (followers of falun gong report they see an aura surrounding their master Li; I have seen
peoples faces as masks) when he was conducting services in one of his states of illumination so that they were
forced to avert their gaze. I cant resist another quote from Heraclitus :

What  witness,  believe on hearsay.

There is no reason to believe that Sabbatai was not as genuine in his convictions as the great prophet or other
great men. I believe that the experiences he had during his states of illumination were unclassifiable (4/3/02. am
I trying to gain ownership (or some control) by reverse labelling?). Faced with such knowledge he was more
than ever dependent on the responses of his followers. The interpretation of the most banal experience is a
sharing process, the forging of a joint language. It is difficult enough in aesthetics, politics or the moral sphere
let alone in the religious setting that Sabbatai must have known it was his fate to play a major role. The roles we
play are a joint enterprise. It is a kind of dance. You believe you are doing it right because its effortless, but
maybe it seems effortless because you are both doing it wrong in the same rhythm. Sabbatai comes across as an
appealing person in John Freelys account in spite of his outrageous claims. In the end, except for the Donme,
his followers couldnt desert him quickly enough as if they had been betrayed. Jewish religious leaders in town
after town forbade even the mention of his name so that the embarrassing episode would be wiped from
memory. Yet perhaps the bulk of the blame should be laid at their own door for having elicited the claims they
later repudiated. It may be that the role Sabbatai Sevi accepted was determined not by him but by the culture he
was born to. I think, in continuing the comparison, that today both messiahs score a label from the psychiatric
fraternity. Sabbatai was clearly an example of bipolar disorder & the prophet from nazareth was a
schizophrenic. (Interestingly of the 4 men generally considered to have been the most influential in history ie.
the buddha, confucius, jesus of nazareth, & mohammad two ie 50% would be classed as mentally ill). It doesnt
matter what these appellations mean exactly, & their meaning changes. What is important is what they do. They
place the psychiatrist (the very word (from greek: psyche) traces a history of change in ownership) in a postion
of authority over the recipient. The frame within which it is done is the system of mutual accreditations
between agencies & institutions, the final authority resting with the state. The psychiatrist can encourage the
use of mind altering chemicals or sign documents that can incarcerate or lead to compulsory medication. I dont
think Sabbatai would have accepted voluntary medication – nor would have the nazarene, nor the buddha. Both
jesus of nazareth & Sabbatai were brought before a court by the intrigues of rabbis whose authority they were
considered to be challenging. It appears that neither Pontius Pilate nor Mehmet IV had anything against the men
whose fate they held in their hands. Pilate probably respected the nazarene & Mehmet IV actually liked
Sabbatai. From the perspective of rulers of empires they were judged as troublemakers (psychiatric appellations
are variations on the theme). Sabbatai was interrogated by a panel of muslim scholars as Mehmet IV sat out of
view behind a screen. His trial took place in 1666 in the royal palace in Edirne (the old capital of the ottoman
empire before the capture of Constantinople in 1453). He was given the choice of converting to the muslim
religion or being impaled (2/3/02. its worth giving some thought to exactly how it might have been done) on a
stake already erected at one of the city gates. He chose the less painful. He was given the honorary & quite
important title of keeper of the palace gates which enabled him to live in comfort & continue his life as a
religious leader. There were rabbis who argued afterwards that if he really had been the messiah he would have
been prepared to be torn limb from limb for his people. From then on his star waned though many of his
followers remained faithful believing his apostasy to be only apparent or a necessary stage in the inscrutable
ways of the lord. Some believed that the visible messiah was a fake while the real one moved among them in
disguise. Those of the believers who followed his example in converting to the muslim faith, like the Marronas
of spain, continued hebrew religious practices in everything but name. Finally the last of the Donme migrated
to Istanbul during the exchange of populations between greece & turkey after the 1919-21 war. Although by
then they were to all appearances practicing muslims some were said to be still keeping the faith with Sabbatai
Sevi, their messiah, whom they believed would one day return & lead them to redemption.
21/4/02 (15/4/02 – 26/4/02 (no 29)). Ive noticed that when people ask “why?” in the way
you did Tom, that sometimes they already have the answer without being aware of it – they just havent put the
two together. You had claimed on an earlier occasion that you had a vision. What kind of vision? The word is
much in use these days. Politicians seek votes with visions for the future. Company prospectuses promote
visions of expanding into overseas markets. Starlets have visions of making it in hollywood. Musicians have
visions of popularity, composing for films, making a living from their music (putting a price on vision?). We
live in an age of visionaries. The word has a long history & once upon a time, my friend, men were visited by

20
visions of a more compelling variety. They were blinded by them or thrown to the ground & if they survived all
they were able to do was stammer: “Here I am.” & when later they recovered enough to go & warn people of
what they had seen they were ridiculed, derided, stoned & killed, & had to sleep in shit. What kind of vision is
yours? Since you are getting acquainted with the ideas of Teilhard de Chardin Id like to dedicate a poem to
you:

in the beginning was the word

and the word was with god, and
the word was god

I imagine heaven to be a
of a multitude of words and languages
combining all bodies and souls

also I imagine the of

a sphere of ∞ weight
spinning silently through space

we shall all be part of the word

spinning like in space

but maybe it isnt like that

the that you sing

is silent
still
as a star
in its journey through space

we on our distant planet

are deaf to
the
of your night

the galaxies of space turn on eternal wheels

the of ∞
is not for mortal 

so here is an attempt at a more prosaic, analytical answer. The world is made of things that dont fit together.
Competing forces strive for supremacy & now that we have developed hugely powerful weapons were on the
verge of self destruction. If our civilization is to survive (& it wont) it is essential we find ways of resolving its
contradictions. It is the same in our little domestic worlds. At the Make It Up Club musicians often put together
combinations of instruments (their own weird creations e.g. the spit-roast contraption) & modes of playing that
are not normally seen & heard together or are asymmetric or even at odds & nevertheless sometimes make
music that is strangely harmonious. You are a leading pioneer in the marriage of man to electronics in music. I
dont think it is an easy marriage. It may be that the electronic revolution is a deadly threat to the place where
music comes from. In the past weve thought that its source was in the throat, the diaphragm, muscles thumping
drums, in stomping feet, in erotic gyrations. In the lungs, liver, heart. Nowadays you see musicians as immobile
as dummies except that occasionally they lean forward to press a button or throw a switch or stretch a leg to
press a footpad. & all those fucken cables going everywhere, mate, one day one of you guys is going to trip
over & strangle yourself on one of them. You spend an ever increasing amount of time carting boxes of
electronic gadgetry up & down stairs to & from your vans. You turn yourselves into technicians & electronic
engineers. Its not a natural alliance. But worst of all is that the stuff costs a fucken fortune. It means that to

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make music you have to sell your souls to the money economy. & yet when I listen to the cascades of sounds
that come from you, mate, I hear an ecstatic edge that I dont hear enough of elsewhere. So I think that it may be
your task (& though we dont know whos given us the job we know when weve got it) to help redeem this
horrible marriage. & it may be that if this world is not to blow up (but it will just collapse in on itself) it is
essential that the warring pieces in our individual lives & small communities be made to fit – otherwise who
cares if it blows up!
4.28. Strolled for about 4 hours westward to the mouth of Baird Bay & back. Its quite narrow but the
bay goes inland for about 20 ks. Saw a pair of osprey & some galahs that nest in holes in the cliff face. Spotted
a pair of seals dozing right inshore against a granite rock from far away through the binoculars. So I went round
the headland to sneak up on them (I have sneaked up on a sleeping tern at a beach to touch its back; H saw me
do it; it wasnt a miracle, just took a long time & patience) from the other side using the rock as cover. Seals
sleep floating half turned on their back with one flipper sticking stiffly straight up out of the water. I wanted to
sit just above them & observe the look on their faces when they woke up to see me. But as I got near the rock
they came swimming around to my side. Later when I was standing still on it each came in turn to within 5 or
so yards, stuck a head out for a look, & went off fishing to a spot a few hundred yards away. Today is the
second day the sunrise was obscured by cloud & its been like that all day. Just as well: Im not looking forward
to it clearing up as I think Im here a month too early. Baird Bay looks interesting as its very different to the
ocean coast & there are heaps of water birds. The water is still because there is an island called Jones Island in
the mouth. Had a dip for a wash. Tonight Im still sleeping here for the sound of the waves. … Have made a
discovery. This morning I had thought I caught a quick movement out of the corner of my eye of something
small disappear into the back of the gap along the side of the front seat of the car. I had the impression of a
mouse but decided it had been a trick of the imagination. Just now when I went to get a packet of muesli from
the box under the back seat I found it gnawed through & some of the muesli spilt. The hole is in the side of the
packet about the size of a ten cent coin & ragged at the edges. Ive had the problem before & its bloody hard to
solve. Ive searched everywhere but cant see any other evidence of the critter. It must have gnawed the hole
during the day because I would have heard it at night. There are more packets of muesli there & about a doz
packets of corn thins & Vita Wheat it would also enjoy. Where it might get into difficulties is getting enough
moisture unless it can make use of the tomatoes or apples.
17/8/02 (11/8/02 – 21/8/02 (no 30)). Here is some factual material from Dr Helen
Caldicotts latest book ‘The New Nuclear Danger’. The first nuclear bomb tested in 1945, code-named ‘Trinity’
(after the Father, Son & Holy Ghost) was usually referred to as “Oppenheimers Baby” in honour of the
scientific director of the Manhattan Project. The telegram Edward Teller sent to Los Alamos after the first
successful test in 1945 read “it’s a boy”. The tendency to talk about the bomb as a human creature was
widespread among the scientists. The bomb gets “married” to the diagnostic cannister & as it explodes it
“couples” with the ground making “daughter fission products” that pass through “generations”. One of the
scientists described the test as “like having a baby” & compared the tenseness he experienced during the test to
“whether to push or not”. Another bomb designer compared his post test feelings to a state of “postnatal
depression”. (1/9/02. Being men theyd know all about that pregnancy, labour and post natal stuff of course. Us
girls might have penis envy, but those boys sure had motherhood envy with a bang! – helenz.) Upon witnessing
the explosion of Trinity Oppenheimer quoted the Bhagavad Gita: “I am become death, the shatterer of worlds.”
By contrast the opposite language tendency is prevalent among the scientists of the nuclear weapons industry
when referring to people – they tend to be talked about as inanimate objects. They are described as “human
resources” & “components” within a system. Human communication is called “interfacing” &
misunderstandings as “disconnects”. The pain of human injuries is “damage” & when a person is killed he is
“disassembled”. The Pentagon calls the targetting of cities “countervalue targetting”. People are called “soft
targets”. The 15 million civilians who would initially be killed in a counterforce attack on Russian “hard
targets” are called “collateral damage”. In Techno-strategic discourse nuclear equipment is often referred to as
beautiful & scientists have been known to describe their relationship to the technology as Zen. Weapons are
arms, bombs warheads, a nuclear attack is a decapitating strike, the stragegic nuclear forces have 3 legs, early
warning satellites are eyes & ears, missiles are covered with skins, & aging weapons grow whiskers that can
interfere with their health. The Lawrence Livermore Lab has a policy that if an employee is overheard to
express any concern about the ultimate result of the use of nuclear weapons (that is the possible destruction of
life triggered by a nuclear winter) they are advised - & sometimes required – to see a counselor. The company
Lockheed Martin with which we have just signed a contract to buy our next generation of fighter jets also
produces the Trident II submarine-launched missile armed with eight 100-kiloton or 475-kiloton hydrogen
bombs (the Hiroshima bomb was equivalent to 13-kilotons of TNT). Each Trident submarine is equipped with

22
24 of these missiles. 18 Trident submarines, together containing explosive power 3 times the threshold required
to instigate nuclear winter, glide silently beneath the oceans of the world, invisible to all.

“There are no knowns. There are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns –
that is to say, there are things that we now know we don’t know but also unknown unknowns. There are
things we do not know we don’t know …”

US Defence Secretary, Ronald Rumsfeld.

The quality of mercy is not s ed

It droppeth as the gentle from heaven.

William Shakespear

I am parked at the bottom of a red sand dune separating me from the shore of the lake amid callitris
pine, acacias, & casuarinas. Only about 5 yards behind me there is a large bronze wing pigeon (Phaps
chalcoptera) sitting on a twig with a patch of metallic green on the wing reflecting a late afternoon sun. The
spot is at the south east corner of the lake. Its been a clear blue day with a bit of cool in the breezes. I left for a
walk at 10.35 & was back 5 hours later. I dont think even a novice could get lost on the lake as the ‘islands’
provide very definite reference points. Saw some huge wombat holes, big enough to curl up under the eave of
the opening & there were a few I could have easily crawled into. What happens I reckon is that the powdery
grey gypsum dirt must be very easy to dig into but it also easily collapses & the wombats (the desert variety)
continue excavating & removing the fallen dirt till the surrounds look like a quarry. You have to watch out (I
can hear one of my favourite bird calls, the ventriloqual tinkle of the crested bellbird (Oreoica gutturalis)) on
the lake bed as in lower spots you can break through what is a perfectly dry looking surface into mud
immediately underneath. When walking a long distance youd want to be sure youre not cut off from your
destination by what looks like a firm surface from a distance. Walking on the dry dirt is pleasant as its springy
underfoot like a thick carpet. Without my car full of boxes of food & containers of water I dont suppose Id
survive more than a couple of days here (probably freeze to death on the first night) but I found some scrapers
that show that the aborigines used to camp in the vicinity. The walk was westward along the southern shore
then a bit of a loop into the lake & over a couple of the islands. Should be a cold night & another good day
tomorrow as the sky is clear & there is only a light breeze. Time for a mug of coffee & ½ an avocado left over
from tea.
22/9/02 (21/9/02 – 3/10/02 (Cursive by helenZ ; plain by a…z @…) (no 32)).
Westward ho from lovely Hughes Creek Reserve, then out of the hilly country onto the flats of the
Goulburn River – pretty country but so dry – like it usually would be at the end of a hot summer – no
wildflowers, no green fresh grass, lots of tinder-dry ground litter. It doesn’t bode well for a bush-fire free
summer season. The birdlife is abundant though – lots of sulphur-crested cockatoos, galahs & magpies
(saw 2 babies just out of the nest, one on a stump & the other close by on a log, taking the sun & not a bit
worried when John gave them a friendly pat), a pair of crimson rosellas & one eastern rosella. John
communed with 2 alpacas in a paddock – a black one with impressive white eyebrows who used its ears
like semaphores to indicate its feelings, & a brown one which was more nervous. The black one sniffed at
Johns hand & was quite interested in him. They are pretty, feminine looking animals who stand like ballet
dancers, with knees together & toes at 10 to 2.
Got into a state forest (Rochester?) for a long patch of which Whroo Historical Reserve was a part.
There seems to be nothing left of Whroo except a small cemetery though it boasted 10000 diggers during
the gold rush. Just as I commented that it seemed inconceivable that 10000 people were once digging the
place up, & now it was totally deserted, we drove past a group of army cadets in full camouflage on some
sort of exercise – so camouflaged that John didn’t even see them! A short drive along the road we came to
their camp where one of their officers replied: “That’s a very metaphysical question” when John asked
him where the road ended. What’s the bloody army coming to when philosophers are in charge?! We’ll
have no chance against Sod’em with blokes like that in command. Some of the kids were female & some
were in full face paint to complete the camouflage outfits. We are now at the end of a lane near the
Victorian Speed Boat Associations property which has a lake but doesn’t look all that pretty, as there seem
to be no trees around it. This lane is nice, though, & should be private.
We are travelling west without using maps or the compass avoiding big towns & highways. Ive
travelled like this by myself but never with H. In the middle of the day when the sun is high (especially
if its cloudy) its hard to know in which direction youre going. Since we are heading westwards
towards the Grampians (maybe will drive in a big circle around them later) it should be easy in the

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afternoon to simply go in the direction of the sun but the roads & lanes dont necessarily cooperate.
Read the paper in Longwood which has the distinction of not having a public toilet so had to go & use
the one in the pub. Last night the evening atmosphere of Hughes Creek Reserve was torn by a
couple of kids who drove in to practice wheelies & skids in their old bomb. It explains the increasing
amount of damaged pasture since we were there last year (see ‘22/9/01 – 1/10/01’). A single car
putting in a regular weekly session of skidding practice could ruin the place. They were probably just
bored country kids – but thoughtless. I noticed that they remembered to shut the gate when they left.
Cattle walk across the stream to graze in the reserve. This morning they were lowing (more like
braying in a variety of timbres ranging from a ships foghorn to a scream) all about the van. It took us
hours today to get through the forest (did a one hour walk too) south of Rushworth finally coming out
near the Heathcote golf course. We are parked for the night at the end of a lane somewhere in the
triangle formed by Heathcote, Bendigo, & Kyneton. When we travel like this we are in an exclusive
bubble trying to avoid the ‘real’ world, a folie-a-deaux. At night as we lie in our beds & when we are
driving during the day the windows of the van are the walls of the bubble. I usually drive on a minor
road at about 40 ks examining the paddocks or forest on either side while keeping peripheral vision
on the road ahead. H is usually staring into the mid-distance or in the arvo dozing off. Sometimes I
call out "did you see that bush with the blue flowers?” & she says “no, where?” & I say “the one we
just passed.” Or I say “look at the fox in the paddock on the right” & she looks left & I say “its gone
now.” Or “look at those little bunnies chasing each other” & she leans forward to peer upwards at the
sky & I say “forget it.”
29/9/02. A peripatetic day (look it up!). From Brim we went to Beulah, a lovely town adorned
with excellent murals of its glory days & lots of trees in nature strips & front yards. It came across as a
very proud little community. John took photos of the murals & we bought the paper, but drove on to
Hopetoun as there was only the park to read it in & the southerly was still blowing. John had his mind on a
hot shower at Lake Lascelles (all but empty) in the architect designed log & corrugated iron amenities
block, but though there was water it was cold, so we gave it a miss. Then on to the Wathe Reserve off the
Hopetoun-Walpeup Road, but it turned out to be mosty soft sandy tracks & we didn’t want to risk getting
stuck. Decided then to revivify our original intention of investigating the area west of the Grampians, as
the weather map showed improving weather & clearing rain. So off we went via Hopetoun, Warracknabeal
& Dimboola to our present spot by the Wimmera River in the Little Desert National Park. Though the
weather in the north is sunnier, the flatness & dryness holds less appeal than the greener, damper south.

On the Rainbow-Rosebery Road

The birds flash their colours in flight
Pink & grey, turquoise & gold
Scarlet & green & white
But there’s hardly ever a rainbow
& nary a rose in sight.

By the way, my allegiance to Collingwood is purely tribal – I don’t know their names, ages or match
stats, but a dominant memory from my childhood, from about 12 or 13 onwards, is Saturday arvo
broadcasts (first radio, then television) of Collingwood matches where my father would either be ecstatic
or furious, & the air would ring with “you bastard, umpy, you must be bloody blind” & “shepherd ‘im,
shepherd ‘im” &, if they lost, “they played like a pack of bloody girl guides”. Mum would be ironing or
trying to do something at the kitchen sink or table & had to negotiate around him as he leant over the
radio with his ear almost glued to the speaker. (1/10/02. Noel was partially deaf in one ear from the
time in his childhood when his father tried to cure an abscess in it by pouring whiskey into it.) In tv
times we’d all sit in the lounge, & mum would knit or darn while dad & I watched the match, him for the
action & me for the good-looking ones, of which Collingwood never seemed to have as many as the other
side, & the shorts then were long & flappy, too, & the jumpers bulky wool, so all those biceps, thews &
other muscly bits were not much in view. If they won, we had a happy weekend, if they lost we sat about
in gloom & went to bed early on Saturday night, and had a very quiet Sunday. I remember names from
those days – Thorald Merrett, Murray Weidemann (5/10/02. Saw him today in his usual spot in the
window seat of the Don Camillo in Victoria st. Nth. Melb.), Peter Lucas, Ray Gabelich, Des Tuddenham,
but fewer as the years went by – Peter Moore, Phil Manassa, the Shaws, Peter Daicos – and hardly any
now. Those old guys (and Lulu, of course) are etched on my brain as part of my childhood Saturday ritual
at West Heidelberg, along with the Saturday lunch of frankfurts & tomato sauce, and the sumptuous
Sunday roast – leg of lamb falling off the bone, peas boiled to within an inch of their life with salt & sugar,
crispy roast potatoes & pumpkin, cauliflower with white sauce & occasionally roast parsnip, all flooded
with delicious gravy made from the meat juice. No food has ever tasted better to me, & my lamb roasts
are never quite up to my mother’s mark.

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 This is the last spot south past the No Camping Beyond sign about 5ks back along the river.
Fact is it doesnt matter where we go or stop. Our unspoken agenda is that the only priority is that we
be close together. We seek out spots that are as private as possible. We like to be unhurried at either
end of the day. After breakfast we look for the nearest small town where we read the paper in silence.
(In the café Bocadillo in Brunswick st. on a friday (6/10/02. Where we were again on the day we got
back & talked to Paul, a regular, who was in a very existential mood. When I asked what hed been up
to over the previous weeks he said “nothing, I sit & drink a glass of red wine waiting for the weather to
warm up.”) evening we sit in the window seats where we can observe the passing parade without
talking while at the tables behind people are in animated conversations about relationships,
achievements & overseas travel.) H used to worry that our lack of conversation didnt conform to the
model of a good marriage as depicted by womens magazines. My defence was that I didnt marry for
her mind. Now weve been together long enough to know each others moods without words. We have
made a tacit agreement on this trip not to talk about the kids, domestic issues such as finances &
when one of the houses has to be sold, when H is going to retire (which she is putting off so as not to
have to sell the house in Ivanhoe), Vi or any other relatives. Mornings & evenings we clutch each
other tightly, nose to nose, & yesterday H was kind enough to say that it was the best part of the day.
If whoever is responsible for switching off the lights were to inform me that my time was up Im happy
to go as long as its before breakfast or after tea.
17/11/02 (11/11/02 – 20/11/02 (no 33)). Stopped off at the Transit Lodge to get rid
of rubbish, go to the toilet, & brush me teeth. Washed with warm water for a change. There are still
patches of snow about the village & on surrounding mountains (there also were a couple at Falls
Creek & I could see a couple of very small ones from Mt Cobbler at Buller.) The only other time Ive
been on this road to Omeo was before it was paved & Dinner Plain wasnt in existence so I drove
around the village inspecting the lodges. As you go down the long slope from the plateau everything
becomes much drier & the pasture has already browned off. Perhaps its a rainshadow area. Stopped
at Omeo only to buy the paper & continued on through Swifts Creek to Ensay & onto the Smiths
place. It feels strange to think that Bruce & Cathy are around 50 now though I must say he looks little
changed from the last time I saw them. Cathy wasnt there as she has taken a holiday in Queensland
after a very big year of study to finish a double degree in social welfare & psychology by
correspondence. She can no longer get around without crutches. Bruce is running a program of
getting the high school kids (from Omeo) into part time work with the help of a govt grant. Apparently
its very successful. I was telling him that I wanted to visit Adam Cadd before I left town & he pointed
to the next room & said “theyre in there”. That was Adam & his wife Julie (Dons sister) who go there
with the other jehovahs witnesses of Ensay (5 in all: Caitlin (daughter of Bruce & Cathy), Jennie
(girlfriend of Cathy who sold up in Melbourne to live in Ensay), Adam & Julie, & Cathy (who
supervises)) for sunday worship. So it turned out to be a bit of a get together & me & Bruce were able
to compare notes on a few people we know in common. At the end of the month they are going to
Melbourne for a wedding & staying at Bill Sinclairs (who is on my mailing list) place so I suggested
they catch up with me at the Bocadillo bar on the first tuesday of december & wed go on to the Make
It Up Club. I didnt accept Adams invitation to go to their place for tea as I wanted to be at Petmans
Beach tonight (where Im writing) but its great to know that there is an obscure country town in
Victoria where Im welcome. He asked me if I still kept a bible on the dashboard of the van & since
they were about to leave I told him to have a look on the way out where it was parked out back with
the doors & tailgate open coz it was so hot. When I was leaving a few hours later I found that the
bible had been taken out of its jacket & was on the front seat open at psalm 83 & Adam had marked
the last paragraph, no 18, which reads “That men may know that thou, whose name alone is
JEHOVAH, art the most high over all the earth.” Bruce says that Geoff Bigmore (who built the house)
became a jehovahs witness after a couple (of latvian origin) who lived in a remote valley out of Omeo
drove over Geoffs dog & the chance meeting led to his conversion. When that couple left he became
the only jehovahs witness in the Omeo district. Much later Cathy who was involved in community
work in Elwood chanced on a tall blonde girl who told her that she remembered the house in Ensay
from when she used to visit there as a child. The girl turned out to be the daughter of the ‘latvian’
couple now living in Melbourne & later still she lent Geoff the money he needed to buy the house he
now lives in. Cathy (she once told me that her reason, which I think cannot be bettered, for joining the
jehovahs witnesses was that she had found that they were good people) has the role of informal
counsellor & the Ensay house is often used for the purpose. They are back here permanently it

25
seems now & I could tell how pleased Bruce was that their daughter Caitlin was so keen on home &
the country. Many country kids want nothing more than to leave for the city as early as they can.
Caitlin is in year 9 but studies from home having found that she didnt like her school. Their son Kaeita
lives in Melbourne & never visits though they get on fine. He is just back from Morocco where he was
with his partner (of the Wellington Lee family) who is doing a ph.d. & delivered a paper there. There
may be a crisis looming as though Kaeita & her love each other there is no prospect according to him
of the Lees accepting him as the future husband of their daughter coz he is not a ‘high flyer’. Apart
from that cloud on the horizon my impression is that they are doing particularly well as a family &
have found their spot. Which is pleasing as the road to it has been very circuitous. I left the writing Ive
done this year with Bruce (though they had already read ‘The Hat’) because I am hoping that Cathy
appreciates it as I used to admire her writing style (characterized by clarity & directness of
expression) when I taught her at school. Also she was an impressive person then so its not surprising
that she has taken on the task of being supportive to people in difficulties. Bruce gave me a set of
essays titled ‘Five Years of Mountain Echoes’ put out by a local writer P.D. Gardner who is an
anarchist & an eccentric & has stood for parliament for the Nuclear Disarmament Party. It appears we
are involved in similar endeavours & I hope when I send this piece to the Smiths (whose address I
now have) they pass it on not only to Adam but also to the Gardners. P.D. Gardner is an authority on
the history of the aborigines of East Gippsland. Bruce also gave me a book of poetry (more
accurately of sayings) called ‘The Tao of Modern Times & other poems’ by a angovie. This is a small
publication put out by Ngarak Press. On the inside cover there is a handwritten note “To my dear
friend Cathie from Amelia Angovie”. It is one of a limited edition of 50 copies made up of 40
numbered ones & 10 reviews. This copy is marked as no 1. I hope Cathy doesnt mind Bruce giving it
to me. As it turns out Amelia Angovie is the name under which M. Gardner writes poetry & Ngarak
Press belongs to him too. I feel priveleged that I am able to cross paths with people of originality.
Besides, Bruce knocks up a pretty good salad! As we were talking with a CD playing in the next room
I suddenly pricked up me ears coz I was hearing the very same song that Ive been listening to in the
Spiegeltent over the last few weeks sung by the woman with whose voice Ive fallen in love. & so now
I know that her name is Cesaria Evora & the song is called ‘Sodade’ taken from the album Miss
Perfumado which is probably the album they were playing at the Spiegeltent as all the songs there
were by the same woman. On this CD she only has the one song. The CD is put out by Luaka Bop
Inc. & is titled ‘Telling Stories of the Sea. Adventures in Afropea.’ The blurb says “This is the first
compilation to represent the different branches of Afro-Portuguese music … The best from Lisbon,
Angola, Sao Tome and the Cape Verdean Islands. Faraway outposts united by bittersweet sadness
and rugged soul, tempered by uniquely tropical funk, where Moody Melodies Float above dreamy
grooves. Here is the archetype of ALL Afro-Atlantic music – American Blues, Brazilian Sambas,
Cuban Rumbas. These songs simultaneously pierce the heart and inspire release. They’re both the
illness and the cure.” The CD is Caitlins favourite so I said that if they catch up with me next month Ill
give her some latin american songs Ive got on tape seeing as Ive got quite a lot. From Ensay I drove
to Bruthen where I read the paper & to Nowa Nowa where I bought two stubbies (drunk on the road)
& checked the mobile where there was a message from H telling me not to hurry home but that she
missed me & it wasnt the same without me & on to here where mercifully it is clouded over & become
quite mild. Its 7.00 & I havent been over the dune (I can hear the waves loud & close) yet because
Ive been writing the entry. Havent eaten either. In contrast to the green country Ive been in its very
dry & there are swarms of extremely hungry flies which are biting fiercely.
(21/7/10. Completion of days from folder 3 (nos 27-33 of Og))

2/3/03 (February 24 (no 34)). H left be4 I got out of bed 2 take Michael 2 the latest
Star Trek film. Read the paper @ the Errol. @ litho house 1 of the items on the menu was a real
‘ethnic’ 1: sausage skins stuffed with grated spud with a sauce of spirgučiai (fried diced bacon) &
sour cream. It was delicious. Dan turned up & got 2 touch base with a few people he knew.
Considering what hes gone through hes doing very well. Jule Simankevičius was telling me that her
brother, whose name is also Arūnas, says that once you start noticing ‘coincidences’ you see them
more & more till it gets right out of hand. I said Id send her a copy of this piece. I spent the longest
time talking 2 Algis Klimas (like us with a lot of kids) who has been learning 2 play the guitar 4 30
years. He pays a teacher $40/lesson & is supposed 2 spend 20 mins per day practicing. Problem is
he hasnt made enough progress 2 play a single tune & isnt sufficiently motivated 2 do the practice.

26
Got the letter that Dan addressed to me @ litho house from l’hopital Maison Blanche in Paris & am
including it (with his permission) in miniaturized format @ the start of todays entry (29/7/10. lftowt
h). Im very grateful for the sentiments it contains. Talked to Mykolas who was working in the
kitchen. He told me that he had been 1 of those involved in the work on the museum & memorial @
the 9th fort (he is also from Kaunas). He was in charge of a group of ngineers in the preparation of
working drawings & in supervisory tasks of various aspects during the construction. Its tea time (in
Ivanhoe), H is back ( do the typing later), & Im about 2 settle in 2 watch Collingwood take on
Hawthorn in the Wizard Cup.
16/3/03 (March 11 (no 35)). Such distinctions as in/out, on/off, up/down,
solid/permeable, opaque/transparent r also agreements based on the properties (coordinations,
uniformities, synchronisations) of the components that go 2 make us up which r simpler as they r
more foundational (group → individuals → organs → cells → molecules → atoms etc). The viability of
agreements made @ complex levels tests out the options (4 arrangements) inherent in the more
basic structures. If our component parts did not bhave in a particular way we would not have notions
of up/down or of gravity. Opaque/t sparent would mean something completely different if we were
made of x-rays. Its 9.45 am. Earlier as I was picking out the mould spots from the remaining 1/3 of
the loaf, covering 1 side of it like a rash, which I intend 2 have 4 tea a pair of pacific
(Larus pacificus) hovered overhead cawing hopefully. I gave them a bit. They r surprisingly large
when u see them close up & much more common here than around Melbourne where their numbers
have dcreased as those of the common silver have proliferated…. 7.05 pm. Drove 2 Wisemans
Beach in Peake Bay about 9 ks by road south. The bay is very well protected & the water woz still.
Did a walk carrying snorkel & goggles in the pack. On the way back in a particularly gl y curve in
the bay I went in2 some beautiful water. The bottom was sparsely covered with several different sea
gr 1 of which was green. The surprise woz 2 find huge numbers of razor which Ive
never seen underwater. They are a about the shape & length of a anchored in the
sand @ the narrow end. The flat end sticks straight up & is open about 1 cm 2 allow water 2 flow
through. The fleshy part which is sought by locals as food is about the size of a golf ball (the 1s in the
Port Germein area have been contaminated by lead from the Port Pirie smelters). They covered the
sea bed continuously @ a density of 3 or 4/m² wherever I swam. The gradient of the sea bed is so
gradual that it is imperceptible. Swimming in perfectly still water (with thongs) that is crystal clear (u
go 2 stand up thinking the bottom is quite close) seems effortless. I woz xcited coz the further I went
the more scallops I could see & I love scallops. In Melbourne I pay $1.80 4 a single 1 & here I could
have picked up ½ doz in every dive. They lie on the sand with lips slightly ajar like inverted ashtrays
asking 2 b scooped up. By the time I looked about I woz a few hundred yards offshore. There is a
temptation 2 swim out 2 sea 2 see what it would feel like a k or 2 out just like on a cliff edge there is
an urge 2 jump so as 2 fly through the air (22/3/03. As with coincidences, I never have such urges.
Perhaps they are some sort of death wish – helenz)

(22/3/03 as we stood on the edge of the precipice

a companion remarked how glorious it would b
2 take a deep breath & dive in2 the abyss

my friend
even as u straigh10 out in2 the dive proper
already u r travelling @ t  speed
of the spe nature of the abyss
your eleration increases so rapidly
that in an inst the speed of your dive
has choked the minds scream
in2 sil
far hind

the abyss goes on

27
 lieve me my friend
unless a gr8er than mine pluck u out
u will never come out of th@ dive

even if u know th@ 

even if it will pluck u out
dont tempt it )

However I swam in a straight line back 2 shore coz I was worried about sharks. About 15 ks 2 the
east is a group of islands distantly visible from small rises in the shoreline south of Tumby Bay called
the Sir Joseph Banks Group. There r about 16 of them & they r touted as a marine wonderland of
world standard. According 2 the info boards they r indented with beautiful coves inhabited by colonies
of seals & sea lions. The surrounding waters r xceptionally rich in fish & r a favourite playground 4
dolphins. @ the top of the food chain is the great white shark (made famous by the movie Jaws) –
this is their home, where they frolic & feed. Thats why I didnt dawdle swimming back 2 shore. Also I
remembered that on the walk I could see what I guessed 2 b pens 2 the east & r said 2
b attracted 2 them. Later when I woz talking 2 an old lady who owns 1 of the shacks on crown land
hidden in the dunes (u get that along the entire coast in SA) she pointed back 2 a part of the beach
where they go scalloping & told me that years ago a woman woz taken there by a in quite shallow
water in sight of husband & a friend watching from the shore. They raced 2 her in a boat but the
had another go @ her & she woz dead by the time they got 2 her (22/3/03. I remember the news item
– apparently it bit her in ½ - helenz). The spot the old lady pointed 2 woz where I had been .
When they go scalloping they always go as a 3some, she said, with 1 diving while 2 watch from the
boat. More recently further along the beach (where I also had a dip) a professional erman woz
circled by a large white pointer in his boat. He threw out the burley 2 distract it & scrammed out of
there. I dont know if 2 blieve that 1: it sounds too much like the movie. I went in 4 a few more
snorkels but didnt dally 4 long & I woz getting chilled anyway. Later I drove 2 the other side of Point
Bolingbroke & parked in the grounds of Thuruna Uniting Church Camp 4 a meal. Afterwards I went
for a walk 2wards the point from the opposite side I had done when I woz in Peake Bay. I only had
time 2 go some of the way. Coming back 2 cape barren geese flew overhead alternately honking &
snorting in a very idiosyncratic manner. Then 3 pelicans flew over in the opposite direction. Getting
closer 2 Thuruna I realized that what I had previously registered in my peripheral vision as sheep as I
woz driving past in the van were in fact cape barren geese. I counted 84 of them & later saw a doz or
so sheep in the same paddock. These large fowl, distant relatives of geese, were once hunted & by
the 1950s were almost xtinct. They breed only on islands & are unique 2 australia. Their numbers
have recovered 2 about 3000. Last night @ the pub when I told a bloke I had seen 3 of them 4 the 1 st
time he said that they r a nuisance coz they feed on the most succulent pasture & crops & the
farmers around here r lobbying 2 b allowed 2 cull them. Im @ the same spot overlooking the water as
I woz last night.
13/4/03 (12/4/03 – 24/4/03 (cursive by helenZ & block by a … z …) (no 36)). In
the pub @ Whitfield (see ‘11/11/02 – 20/11/02’ p.2) but mentally I still havent left
Melbourne. A week or so ago Lance Morton (from whom I buy shoes & we dscuss
where weve bn; when in response 2 his query I told him the orign of me name he
said he had known a litho once by the name of Vic Klimas who had tried his
darndest 2 race off his girlfriend – Vic was best man @ mine & Hs wedding)
nsisted I write down what I had said 2 him bout parental direction 2 children. He
was most mphatic & actually came out of the shop 2 make the point. I am not
sure I have an accurate memory of our conversation which was in 2 parts. I h&ed
over 1 of my written pieces (hot off the press across the road) 2 him in the shop
& somehow the conversation turned 2 kids (probably coz parents r always talking
bout them) & Lance said that he woz nvolved in a contest of wills with his

28
daughter who (mayb) woz in her final year @ school. That must have tripped 1 of
my wires coz it set me off burbling on bout how I dont give advice but then I
remembered that I had in fact done the standard thing of advising my own kids
against taking drugs (particularly pot, LSD, & amphetamines as I have reason 2
blieve from very limited personal xperience & my reading subsequent 2 a
breakdown that they ndangered my equilibrium & there woz every possibility of
them having nherited a similarly susceptible neurological chemistry) & urged
them 2 get those bits of paper that allow them 2 write letters after their names
(coz society rewards u 4 them byond their merit & pnalizes u 4 not having em).
These days Im dsinclined 2 advise (but Montaigne gave advice on everything from
how 2 educate, 2 dalliance, manners, dplomacy (etc) on the premise that if ultim-
ate truths are unknowable (his main thesis) all that is left is advice & xample) &
rarely do. Sometimes though I feel as if Im pressured 2 respond & in those situa-
tions I am nclined 2 hedge it (I have no ideology against offering it) with so many
qualifications that its probably useless. I cant remember what I said b4 I walked
out of the shop but it woz likely along the lines that kids already know what you
might have 2 say as their knowledge of parents is more ntimate than of any1 else
& that since all of us, ncluding our kids, have something in us that is irreducible
which cannot b reached by others we have no way of knowing if our advice is ap-
plicable. Later as I was doing the shopping I had an uncom4table feeling that I
had failed 2 xpress myself & then it came 2 me with some 4ce that there woz a
way of saying it clearly. I went back in2 his shop 2 tell Lance that all that woz
needed from parents in giving direction 2 children woz the xample of a life, es-
pecially of how they cope with adversity. That woz the sum of it & Im giving an
account as requested. Yesterday at Dennis’ place we walked over to his neighbours fence to look at
some baby alpacas – very engaging little beasts with big eyes and long gangly legs. Today on the road
between Mansfield and Whitfield we spotted some female Samba deer in the brush on the verge - they
stood and watched us watching them, as kangaroos do, before trotting off into heavier cover. We stopped
at Mansfield to buy the paper & for me to use the ATM, and then spent a very indulgent 3-4 hours at the
Whitfield pub where the meals are gourmet-style, reading the paper and eating. We had 2 tapas dishes:
lamb and olive meatballs with a spicy yoghurt dipping sauce, and mushrooms fried in olive oil, both
accompanied by locally made ciabatta bread, flanking a pizza (“Bushman’s with the lot”) with shaved
ham, salami, mushrooms, olives, tomato and cheese on a thin Italian style crispy base. All washed down
with beer and wine (him) and coffee/lemon squash/water (me). I then rounded it off with another coffee
accompanied by 2 long, thin, hard and very tasty biscotti. Who said you cant be a yuppie in the bush?
Andrew at Idibidi in Brunswick St. couldn’t have produced a more ravishing-sounding menu which included
trout among other goodies. The food cost $27 for the 2 of us, so it wasn’t outrageous, and John generously
footed the entire bill. The pub itself was very swish too – a big outdoor shaded verandah area on one side
and a big lawn area of tables on the other, as well as a comfortable bar area warmed by an open fire, and
a more formal dining room inside. Very impressive. This area (the King River valley) is very pretty and
looks quite prosperous with vineyards and tobacco being the main crops visible. There were at least 4
vineyards along the road from the pub to the William Hovell Reservoir at the head of the valley – Pizzini,
Francesca, another Italian one, and one Aussie one. We are camped for the night on a track which leads to
the river off the Whitfield-Cheshunt road. Its been a dreamy sort of day, as the autumn mists have been
hanging about the hills. Theres been the odd shower, so everything is covered in little globules of water –
it must be a great feeling for the trees, grass and birds to be wet again after so long a dry spell. Last night
we cracked a Fruit Ballad wine, which was delicious but which made me drunk almost instantly after 1and
(9.30pm sitting in the car stark
a bit small glasses. John is lucky he married such a cheap drunk.
naked (27/4/03. This gives me an opportunity 2 nterpolate the words of a song I
made up a few years back when we were stuck 4 days on the bank of the
Murrumbidgee just outside Maud in NSW. It is sung 2 the melody of the litho song
Medžiu Lapai Žemėn Krito & the refrain is also from that song:

29
 Camped bside a black clay track
it pelted down for 3 days flat.
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
it pelted down for 3 days flat.

Bloody big b ch right overhead

if it drops well both b .
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
if it drops well both b .
Dont get your knickers in a knot
Im doin me best but I aint god.
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
Im doin me best but I aint god.

Sittin in the , bustin for a

its pissin down & the mud is thick.
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
its pissin down & the mud is thick.

Bhind a a jobs ( ) been done

mud round ankles, burrs in bum.
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
mud round ankles, burrs in bum.

Why did I dcide 2 camp

down along the river bank?
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
down along the river bank.

You can keep your cockatoos

river red gums, .
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
river red gums, .

Had enough of the Murrumbidgee

stuff the cod, bugger the ing.
Hei daliu lija, dalui dalui lija
stuff the cod, bugger the ing. )

waiting 4 a break in the rain with the head torch on, spade & toilet paper ready).
Words r xtensions & elaborations of our physicality. (14/4/03. As the chemical
signals that ants communicate with r of theirs). Think of the most basic words
then think of a babys scream, a cats purring, a yelp of pain of dog or man, a roar
of anger, howling dingoes, a hymn. Another reason why advice 2 children is

30
meaningless (or @ the least redundant) is that having i ed from us & t bn
joined 2 us in dminishing xtent (sometimes having trouble separating) 4 many
years they know us @ levels preceding language. Children know parents far better
than parents can ever hope 2 know them bcoz their knowing us bgins from a
clean slate (tabula rasa) (26/4/03. Kahil Gibran said something similar in “The Prophet” – Your
children are not your children. / They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. / They come
through you but not from you, / And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you. / You may give
them your love but not your thoughts. / For they have their own thoughts. / You may house their bodies
but not their souls, / For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in
your dreams. / You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. / For life goes not
whereas our knowledge of them is superimposed
backward nor tarries with yesterday.)
on2 what has already bn 4med in us. We know our parents as we know the past
but we know our children no better than we guess the future. (made it! Will
continue 2morrow.)
20/4/03. Yesterday was a beautiful cloudless day and the carpark we are staying in filled to
capacity with day-trippers. Thredbo was choc-a-block. We decided to walk along Merrit’s Nature Trail for as
long as I could manage, which turned out to be about ½ way up the mountain range (Crackenback) which
faces Egle’s unit. It was a pretty walk, but steep, so I packed up pretty quickly (us librarians only shelve
books about mountains, we don’t actually climb them very often). There was a meadow walk track veering
off Merrits across the face of the slope so we attempted that instead, but it doubled as a mountain bike
trail, so gave in after 5 or 6 bikers thundered down on us from behind going at high speed and not
necessarily in control of their vehicles – its an accident waiting to happen, a situation no doubt caused by
the attempt to provide/encourage all things for all men in the limited space available. Walked back along
the Nature Trail to the village and headed for the coffee shop and a spot of catching up with the news,
after which we did the creek walk which circles the golf course, through a section of burnt out vegetation
already regenerating. The walk along the Nature Trail was very pretty, flanking a tumbling clear
substantial creek (the source of the village water supply) which flows down to join the Thredbo River which
runs through the town. Snow gums and other shrubby vegetation screened the creek off, but it was
audible and visible where bridges crossed it. In the afternoon we called into Egle’s to find the Blansjaars
and John’s mother had arrived next door, so spent the afternoon and evening with them, during which
time Elyte and her partner Luiz, a Chilean, arrived, and Peter and his wife Cathy, who had ridden their
matching pink and blue motorbikes from Sydney. Joe and Helen went to Easter Vigil at the local church
while the rest of us heathens drank and socialized. Rasa put on the most delicious cabbage rolls I’ve ever
eaten for dinner, served with perfectly boiled new potatoes and a mouthwatering sauce, and then we
2day around the country many will b
wandered back to the carpark under a starry sky to bed.
@ending services celebrating renewal of hope & in some cases anticipating the
imminent return of jesus of nazareth. They will pray, muttering under their
breaths, prhaps pleading, as if some1 were listening. A few sceptics blieving that
they know who we r better from observing the bhaviour of the components that
constitute us (@oms, lectricity, mechanics) than from observing what we do will
mock them. The vast majority will go bout their ordinary lives as on any other
day. Here @ Thredbo on a perfect day there is no service available 4 the dvout.
Most yuppies do not feel the need 4 renewal. They will spend their day taking the
chairlift ($22 return) up 2 Eagles Nest restaurant on the Crackenback ridge (that
me & H tried 2 walk 2 yesterday) 2 eat potato wedges (the best shes ever tasted
according 2 Egle) & drink coffee (@ $4.50 per ordinary cup) & walking 2 Mt
Kosciusko (highest aussie peak) in a pilgrimage that averages over 3000
visitors/day in summer. They will ride down the metal luge chute (in a toboggan
with a brake) @ $5 a go. They will hurtle down on mountain bikes (hired @ the
service station) dressed like spacemen along a special winding track. Some, like
me & H, will spend the day walking the nature trails. Many will browse in the
shops (where everything is marked up @ least 30%) in the village square xamining
the latest in mountain gear & relaxing in the cafes & bars. We stroll about in

31
bulky hitech hiking & fashion polar fleece vests cheerfully confident.
Australia lies @ our feet. The future is ours.
8/6/03 (3/6/03 – 12/6/03 (no 37)). 9.30. I can tell th@ the clayey dirt Im on which is
the colour of baby (15/6/03 How would you know (she cries in indignation)? You boast unashamedly
(shame!) that you never changed a nappy in your life – helenz) (dsimilar 2 the dark grey river bank @
Maude) turns in2 mud of supreme tackiness with the +ition of the slightest moisture. The surface is
pitted @ r&om with sinkholes about the size of rabbit holes but which go vertically down 4 a foot or
more. Cant imagine how they 4m but theyd b easy 2 drop a wheel in2 as u cant c some of them bcoz
of the grass. Ncidentlly the plains r green & ther is st&ing water in clay dpressions. It is amazing that
u can b nxt 2 xellent (whn dry) roads that go 4 00s of ks in complete prvacy (no1 has drivn by) on a
long weeknd whn ½ the poplation of australia r on the road. They go 2 set spots. My rward 4 having
riskd going off the road is th@ bcoz I faced the van in2 the wind (as I always do), which woz coming
from the west, the back where I had brekkie sitting on the bumper & am writing now @ the card table
is warmd by the full strngth of the early sun. Last night woz cold but & I had 2 go out 4 a . Had 2
dig a hole in the tacky clay as I hadnt thought 2 in the evening. Back in Melbourne last sunday I also
met up with Algy Klimas 4 the 2nd time since I had mntioned in ‘March 24’ th@ he hasnt managed 2
learn a guitar tune in 40 years of lessons. The previous time he told me his current teacher, a rltively
young man, had had a heart @ack since I wrote the rticle. I didnt like 2 suggest 2 him th@ his
teacher might have bn flabbergasted by the least talented student hed ever had & anyway hed pulled
through (a flat tray truck wnt by) but I think Algy must have rung 2 nquire about his health or whn the
nxt lesson woz coz his teacher has had a relapse. (a ute wnt by). Algy woz complaining ther woz a
rumour going round he woz some kind of music moron. His mum (she (29/7/10. nowz dtd) sends
her rgards 2 u, mum (29/7/10. nr nersn ) rminded him ther hav bn other nstruments hed failed 2
master. Viva who runs the credit union (TALKA) joined a table I woz @. He blongs 2 a club which
draws its members from the finance ndustry, bankrs etc, called the WANKERS CLUB. They elect a
WANKER OF THE WEEK. During the week I saw 2 films: ‘Russian Ark’ & ‘Matrix Reloaded’ (29/7/10.
ys d mi&H Inception). The 1st is 4 people with a long @ention span & the 2nd 4 those with short
1s. Dennis Spiteri had said ‘Russian Ark’ woz the most rdiculous boring film hed ever cn & woz
ntrestd 2 hear my commnts after I saw it. I make them now: the nd sequence 4 which the rest woz a
build up woz, in my humble opinion, 1 of the great cinematographic achievements. Met Cynthia
(sister of Kate across the road @ Miller st) @ the market who had a diffrnt ntrprtation of it 2 mine
(how confident they had bn; how it woz all swept away). She said shed like 2 b dancing like they had.
I ddnt want 2 spoil it by telling her how their serfs lived so I recommnded she read Pushkin. During
the week the papers had bn rporting the rsults of a long term study in the US which had 2 b ab&oned
bcoz it woz doubling the rate of dmentia in the study group. Doctor after doctor woz coming out with
the reassurance there woz no need 2 worry coz the ncrease woz only small from an ncidence of 1%
2 1 of 2%. Years ago when a majr study on pot came out ther wer leading doctors thn 2 who said the
ncrease in schzphrnia from 1% 2 2% woz only small. They should b made 2 live with thm – thn they
wouldnt think it woz so small. A Sydney prof woz rported 2 have said very few womn of 65 in
australia get hormone replacement therapy – only 10%! Th@s small?! Meaning is rel@ive
(Wittgenstein). My doctor checks my oesophagus yearly bcoz he worries about changes in problities
of several units per 000. If hardly any doctors had bn using the treatment theyd all b shouting how
large an ncrease it woz. One prof said there woz no need 2 get 2 concerned about other simlar
hormnal treatments bcoz the study (the only longitudinal 1 done in the field) hadnt shown thm 2 also
b dangerous (like saying Saddam has no more WMDs bcoz wev found some). Others wer saying if
old womn r doubling their rate of dmentia young womn getting the same treatment neednt worry. Id b
worrying more! I reckon any woman who takes the treatment from now on already has early signs of
dmentia. In the same week I read an ssay by Norman Malcolm & some ssays in rply dscussing whthr
or not Wittgensteins point of view woz a religious 1. Ncidentally he woz quoted as saying on sevral
occasions th@ the suffring of the whole of humanity can b no greater than the suffring of 1 man.
George Luis Borges (a couple of Andrew Sanigas post grad students (archtects from spain) xplained
2 me that I had bn wrong 2 rfer 2 him as Luis since George Luis in spanish is a sngle name though
not hyphenated; I notice that in his book ‘The Game’ John Clark calls him George) says similar thngs.
Borges certainly thnks its a significant thng 2 say; Wittgentstein usually makes statements 2 draw
@ention 2 problems in language use rather than 2 ndicate a position. The statement makes no

32
sense. Its resonance comes from @ributing characteristics of ndividuals 2 humanity
(anthropomorphizing the group). Suffring blongs 2 the ndividual. The use of the word (facial
xpressions, appropri@ gestures, vocalization) is learnt by practice & imitation. We dont know what
the word means if its applied 2 humanity. If we talk about the suffring of 6000 as compared 2
6000000 or 60000000 all we r doing is showing we can count, dmonstrating our consensus about
what numbers mean … The whole is not the sum of the prts – we cannot know what it is. In the book
there is a letter from Wittgenstein 2 his friend Drury wher he xprsses his concern th@ he might have
undermined Drurys (who had 1ce thought of ntering the priesthood) rligious faith. I have the same
worry (19/6/03. I hope th@ proply ndrstood my point of view does not ndrmine either rlgious practice
or the dvotions of mystics but reinforces thm nstead. Howver the rout I take may not b availbl 2 most.
I do my best 2 give xplntions but it could be Im ndrstood only by those who dont need thm while othrs
msuse thm. Building a structure may nvolve ntial dmltion wrk.) specially as I have a habit of @acking
the claims of rligious nstutions & hierarchies, something Wittgenstein never did. I do not mourn the
death of the cartesian god (the dead god of Nietzsche) but my weapons of dconstruction r aimed
primarily @ reductionists, & scientism …. 5.15. In a fl@ featureless plain. Going east this track
comes out @ the Cobb highway about 28ks away @ a point about 42ks north of Booligal. The sun is
slipping below the horizon now. There is a drlict homestead & shearing sheds nearby which Ill
nvestigate tmorrow. I ate t 30ks back in a patch of old man saltbush under a few scrubby trees. U get
ntimidated out in the open by its hugeness & ck any feature @ which 2 stop. There is always broken
glass in those places. The soil here is of a dust fine silt & Id hate 2 c the track get wet overnight.
When I woz writing in the morning a couple more cars wnt by but I havnt cn a vhicle since. After the
writing I strolled among the black box 4 a short time & heard the flute like calls, one of the most
hauntingly btful of bird songs in australia & characteristic of the inl&, of the pied butcherbird
(Cracticus nigrogularis). Its going 2 b a cold night again. Not many ozzies c this kind of country yet it
goes on 4ever, & u can camp anywhere along 000s & 000s of miles of roadside. Just get out of it if its
gunna rain. Drinking Sheaf stout. Dug the hole.
29/6/03 (June 28/29 (cursive by helenZ & block by a … z …) (no 38)). During the
night when I woke intermittently I could hear John sleeping and the rain on the roof – some good
downpours. Got up late – one thing about winter travelling is the early-to-bed – late-to-rise routine which
sees us cocooned from lights out (sunset) till well into the morning when the grey light of 9 am or so
wakes us. After breakfast we got the paper at the milk bar in Hopetoun (not at its usual grapevine-
festooned best) and then drove on to Patchewollock, Walpeup and Underbool. Read the paper at Loxton
and found this gem of a cartoon which reflects both of us (me because I’ve just bought 2 of the latest
Harry Potter for the library at school, and John because his guru Wittgenstein also features), and checked
the mobiles ----------- ----------------------------------------------------------------
deleted------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Crossed the Murray at Waikerie and
continued towards Burra. We’ve stopped for the night at one of John’s regular spots – there’s even a neat
hole dug last time, which he didn’t use, but will be handy if he has a midnight call – about 3ks off the main
Morgan-Burra Road, 20 or so ks short of Burra, on a track along a fence in the sparse shelter of a clump of
Mallee eucalypts. I’ve never been here. It’s beautiful in the fading light, and the trees thicken across the
fenceline to a continuous forest with saltbush and bare red-brown patches of exposed soil. The wind has
dropped and though the clouds are low and grey, its not raining. There have been decent falls all through
the area we’ve traversed, enough to green it up superficially, but not enough to fill dams. Still, it must be a
relief to the farmers to know it can still rain. Time for hot soup and cold sandwiches and then into the
cocoon again.Ther r ways of dsguising our claims r from ‘outside the frame’. It
happns whn we talk of good & evil thgh in the case of clergymen @ least we
acknwldge they get it from the bible whch we all know is a record of info from
elsewher. 2 say th@ we speak on b½ of humnity or society r more ffective sub-
trfuges bcoz it is easy 4 mmbers of a mjority 2 not notice that mnorities act
dffrntly or in other places or times mjorities also do or hav done. I speak only
from what I c & hear without claim 2 xtrtrrstrial info acknwldging I m shaped by
large dscourses I m unable 2 scrutnize. The words I use & the contxts I put thm
in2 whch r the prism thrgh whch I view my srroundings hav bn taught 2 me by
people whos ntrst has bn 2 give thmslvs maximum promnence. We make ourslvs
large by making others small. If some1 says 2 me I m mstakn (eg. in m@ers of
hstorical ntrprtation but also in evrthng) I have 2 accept no m@er how hard Iv

33
tried 2 b accur@ th@ they know dffrntly. I cannot lay claim 2 truth but I can xplain
the process by whch I hav rrived @ a position. Most of what I hav said is an @mpt
2 xplain why I do not know but I m not so shy th@ I prvnt myslf from stating the
lttle th@ I do with mphsis.
6/7/03. We go from one beautiful spot to the next. We are camped about 25ks short of
Blinman, off the road between Chambers Gorge (the road into the gorge is closed to 2 wheel drives) and
Blinman in an island between 2 creek beds. There is a track going off towards a spectacular hill about 4ks
away, and there are casuarinas along the creek beds sighing in the breeze. There are exposed rocks
forming what look like old walls, with small blue-grey acacias growing next to them – at first sight you
could think you were somewhere in Southern Italy among some diminished Roman ruins with olive trees
dotted around. Its very beautiful. There is even an old fire ring waiting for a fire, which we’ll have tonight,
the 2nd of the trip – the first was at Italowie Gap. (I feel guilty burning the wood and adding to the
greenhouse effect until I remember that the whole western world is busy pumping its oil and coal based
wastes into the atmosphere with far more impact than my miserable little contribution). This morning we
walked up the major creek bed into the hills, like walking along a well-formed track next to an almost
continuous stand of white tea-tree. There were heaps of black and brown striped grasshoppers with bright
orange legs leaping about. John had taken the compass, so after a fairly steep climb up a hill to get a great
view of the area we headed back to the van cross-country over the hill slopes. We have driven through
some impressively dry and sculptured country to get here, at one stage taking the track towards
Nantawarrina 30ks away in the foothills of the Iron Stirrup Range for 5ks, which meets up with a track from
Blinman on the other side of the range, but thought better of it, as it was likely to be only suitable for
4x4s, especially once it got into the range itself. John will enquire at Blinman if its passable and we may go
back to it if it is. What is striking about the whole area is the emptiness – we’ve hardly seen any livestock
(a few sheep, a very skinny bullock) so you wonder why the owners bother – they must be doing it hard
most of the time since the land is so marginal. I suppose there aren’t many other options for them (except
to become 4x4 ranges – we saw another station offering the off-road experience, “Mallee View”, on the
way here).We hav bn eating @ 3 pm so th@ whn we go 2 bed @ dark my oesphagus
isnt rritated by dgestive fluids. Ystrdy evnng we lay in bed lstnng 2 the Magpies
vs North footy match. Later whn H woz asleep I lay awake lookng out the wndow
@ a brlliant starry nght. A boobook owl (Ninox novaeseelandiae) woz callng
nearby (17/7/03. in ‘Neitzsche and the Divine’ ther is an ssay by Jill Marsden whch
I m readng 2day calld ‘Lunar rapture : Neitzsche’s religion of the night sun’) :

of nght
take me in your glowng 
2 wher the pale
guard my sleep

On the walk up the creek this mornng I woz able 2 get a real good look thrgh the
@ a crestd bellbird (Oreoica gutturalis) as it woz callng. Their calls r
vntrloqual & by carefully watchng its beak movmnts I woz able 2 connect the
sounds 2 the bird. Each of the 4 or so (2 main 1s) varied calls appear 2 come from
a dffrnt drection & dstance (@ 1st I had thght a pair of birds woz rsponsble as hap-
pns with the duets done by mudlarks (Grallina cyanoleuca) & whipbirds (Psoph-
odes divaceus)). I love the song of the crestd bellbird & 4 me its 1 of the most
chracrstic desrt sounds. I can hear 1 now. We wer also seeing zbra finchs (Taen-
iopygia guttata) in the creekbed. We r parkd by a patch of casuarinas thrgh whch
the breeze is making a faint roarng sound. I hav a favourit spot in station country
in wstrn N.S.W. whch I call ‘the meeting place of spirits’ bcoz u hear the sound
thrghout the nght. Contnuing the rmarks on prspctvsm (& its not a m@er of seeing
the world dffrntly but of each 1 of us being a dffring aspect of it but I m not sure if
most can grasp th@ so Ill write as if its about seeing). Lets do a thght xprment.

34
What would b the consquences if we all saw the world (as if it woz out ther, in
some other dmension, sepr@ly from us) in the same way? 4 1 it would mean I
could find out about it smply by asking some1 else (authrities or tv) saving myslf
the bother of nvestigating. It would b so easy it mght b habit 4mng whch would b
a shame as Id b @ a loose nd & I njoy rlying on my own eyes & ears & nose &
touch. & I thnk its not the knowng I njoy so much as the xrcising of my senses.
Also ther would b no pleasure in writing. Why prsent my views if what I c is the
same as what u c? Ther would b no point in trying 2 find othr ways of sayng
somethng (the founding blocks on whch systms of thght r erectd cannot thmslvs
b dpndnt on language games. They r acceptd as (or agreed 2 b) true; we dont evn
considr they mght b open 2 query. Whn u try 2 change the most basic blocks of a
systm u dont do it by rgumnt but by prsuasion (Wittgenstein) whch can take any
numbr of 4ms: mphasis, repetition, consistency, elgance, brevty, conviction
(christ woz said 2 speak with authority), xample, sacrifice (15/7/03. ie. what we r
doing is rcruiting supportrs)) if ther is only the 1 way of sayng it. Unlike some of
my friends who feel challngd or outragd by dffrnt points of view I njoy trying 2
find ways of nfluencing other prspectives & the possblity of being changed. I
seek the friendshp of peopl who r dffrnt 2 me not 1s who rpeat me or reinforce my
views. The knwledg th@ most dsgree with me doesnt bothr me the slghtst. I
ept the confusion. Of course I hav 2 admit if we all saw the world in the same
way ther would b no cause 4 strife & prhaps suffrng could b banishd. Ther would
b no need 2 rgue about words, no need 4 dfnitions, no need 4 convntions or
agreemnts or 2 seek meanng. Come to think of it – ther would b no need 4
language.
24/8/03 (August 18 (no 39)). Last night I listened 2 the y lying on the bunk
looking up @ the stars through the window. Collingwood won (vs Sydney). I saw a satellite (counted
7 in an evening once). The wind picked up throughout the night & is now (8.30am) gale force & cold
from the south west. Low cloud is scudding overhead but I dont think it will rain. This day last week I
was eating kugelis @ litho house @ a table with Andrius Kaspariunas (who is the same age, height &
weight, & appearance even down 2 his no 2 haircut as me) & his mother (1/9/03. who asked if u can
take someones ashes back 2 litho & I was able 2 tell her th@ my sister Rasa had taken a casket
containing the ashes of our stepfather & had raised eyebrows by replying, when she was asked by
customs what she had in the box, that it was her father).There werent many in the room & most were
old. Me & Andrius were young by comparison. Sometimes the place gives the impression of a
nursing home dining room. (Have you ever been in a nursing home dining room? How many of the oldies
present had to be spoon fed with vitamized goo? How many were in nappies? Perhaps you mean a hostel
or retirement home – helenz 1/9/03). @ a nearby table were Andrius & Joseph (who said Dan should
ring him 4 free advice regarding his financial affairs @ FRM – he has several other models on his
books) Vaitiekunas & their mother ponia Vida Vaitiekunienė (or I think thats who it was (1/9/03. but it
was her twin sister from New York) she had changed so much since I last saw her only a few weeks
earlier) who is dying of cancer. Her wish has been 2 hang on till her birthday which I think might b
2day (1/9/03. but it was on the 26 th & she had died on the 23 rd having said her goodbyes) 4 a family
reunion. A son & family have arrived from lithuania & a married daughter from the US. Andrius V says
she has been too tired & in too much discomfort 2 take satisfaction in their company. Another child,
Rasa, whom she had been looking after as an adult died of cancer last year. Ponia Vaitiekunienė is a
long term friend of my mother & I remember regular visits 2 their place when I was young. Its as if
now she no longer has 2 look after her daughter she is able 2 die herself. When she looked over in
my direction on a couple of occasions I could see she was already far away. Last year I had said 2
Andrius V th@ the death of his sister @ least removed the worry of her welfare so his mother could
die in peace. He had said it was not an i as he would have always looked after her. I remarked 2
Andrius K @ my table th@ u dont often hear of brothers & sisters epting responsibility 4 each

35
other like th@ nowadays. “Nor 4 parents” he replied. Ive heard H say as much. I dont think I care.
Bronia made an announcement th@ there was plenty of kugelis left over 4 anyone who wanted 2 buy
some 2 take home. They had probably made far too much. A couple of years ago ponia
Vaitiekunienė had said 2 me th@ when her generation were gone this house & the ‘community’
would b finished. I disagreed with her then but now I think she is right. My kids (who dont go there
anyway) r not privy 2 the kinds of memories of huge events (1/9/03. her father had died @ 36 leaving
her widowed mother, ponia Konstancija Braženienė, to bring up 4 children. Though of small stature
ponia (mrs) Braženienė was of exceptional character taking in & hiding 2 children from the Kaunas
ghetto 4 the duration of the german occupation. In the last weeks of the ghetto with the eastern front
approaching when it was obliterated & the remaining 2½ 1000 inmates transported 2 Stutthoff
concentration camp (outside Danzig) she also hid 2 women saving them from the transport. 4 these
actions she was honoured posthumously by israel in 1985 as a ‘righteous gentile’. 1 of the children
had been taken out of the ghetto by her son (ponia Vaitiekunienės brother) who had entered the
ghetto in a german uniform risking his life 2 walk out with the child. This son was imprisoned by the
russians on their arrival in a prisoner of war fortress in Gardinas from which he was released in
recognition of his mothers efforts (giving shelter to jews had been punishable by death) but by then
his health was broken by the conditions of imprisonment & he died soon after. Nor did her heroism
save her from being herself deported 2 siberia in 1948 from where she didnt return till she was
released in 1956 due 2 ill health) (2/9/03. a few of my readers will b interested 2 know th@ ponia
Vaitiekunienės cousin, Ugnė Karvelis, was the partner of the Paris based writer Julio Cortozar) she
takes with her 2 her grave. I remember a phalanx of NKVD on motorbikes arriving @ a camp (after 1
of the Yalta conferences when the allies had agreed 2 repatriate ex soviet citizens & the brits had
rounded up cossack units & their families & tricked them onto trains 2 b returned “back 2 the USSR”
where they were immediately arrested & sent 2 siberia or shot; many committed suicide on the way)
2 persuade the balts & poles 2 return 2 their places of origin where the new soviet authorities were
waiting 2 welcome them so they could participate in the rebuilding of the glorious socialist republics. I
remember th@ fear hung in the air like mist. The NKVD on motorbikes visited most of the DP camps
but hardly anyone took up their offer & those who did were never heard of again. My kids have not
experienced fear which is palpable. Litho house & the ‘community’ may continue but only as a
gesture, an anachronism, a kind of oddity, a posturing. I wish it well however (1/9/03. its origins r
tribal solidarity & its value is that its a ‘village’ in a large anonymous city). I said hullo 2 Odrone
(Thelma calls her Audrey) & enquired about Danius. She said he had returned from europe during
the week. I was going 2 Ivanhoe on the bike so I called in @ the studio. He has spent the last months
touring european capitals in a van with 4 others (from australia) as a rock band with himself as lead
singer per4ming songs of his own lyrics (which take off, mirror, comment on art jargon) in galleries &
art precincts 2 art audiences. He gave me a beautifully produced CD titled ‘Histrionics’ which he had
manufactured on the cheap in the czech republic. A Jackson Pollock stage suit he made by dribbling
white house paint over the pants & jacket till they were covered with squiggley lines was hanging by
the stove. He said hed come back bcoz his work visa had xpired & it was getting bad 4 his health…
Left 4 a walk @ 10.15 & was back @ 3.45. Walked south along the creek Im camped @ 2 where it
joins Eregunda Creek then upstream because I could see from the map it went through a gorge. In
normal years there would b many deep & clear pools in the depressions in the creek bed & along the
walls but most of them were dry. These western slopes of the Flinders have missed out on the rain
(the area between Quorn & past Hawker is also still parched). The gorge is typical of the ones Ive
seen, they r all impressive. Introduced plants r causing problems though. The entire area is infested
with onion weed & in the gorge prickly pear is covering large sections of the steep slopes. Another
cactus not familiar 2 me with ‘branches’ like lumpy sausages & just as prickly which grows 2 about 5
foot is common on some of the low earthy banks. Saw a couple of peppercorn trees but I like them.
After coming out 2 where the gorge widens on the western side I turned around & came back 2 the
eastern exit & northwards along a track th@ was in places only discernable becoz there were recent
trail bike tyre marks on it 2 the Blinman/Wirrealpa road & across in a loop through a jumble of small
hills 2 the van. After a meal I was overcome by weariness & lay down 4 a doze – thats how unfit I am.
Just noticed there r fresh tyre marks on the track Im next 2. Someones gone by while I was on the
walk. It could b the station people or someone might b camped 2 the north. Im driving a couple of ks
up it 2morrow 2 where we were when we left in panic in the dark bcoz of the rain. 2morrow I want 2
walk along the track th@ goes past the hut & the spring but further than we did. The 2ks there & 2ks
back saves me an hour of walking time..

36
 21/9/03 (September 20/21 (cursive by helenZ & block by a … z …) (no 40)). We
are camped in a swathe of emerald green grass not far from a small patch of deep mauve orchids, next to
the Boosey Creek in the Broken Boosey State Park, out of Tungamah (population 330). The park (which is
really a corridor about 200m wide enclosing the creek, which runs into the Broken Creek further along)
runs for about 6-7ks between properties and retains gum trees (box?) scattered thickly along its length. Its
very pretty, though the mozzies are out and active because of the recent rain which has made the place
lush. Our major stopping place along the way was Whitfield, to patronize the pub there (Mountain View
Hotel) which does gourmet meals at gourmet prices. On the menu today was artichoke ricotta and goats
curd tart, which on first reading made me sit up and take notice, given that I am ageing and prone to
malapropisms. We settled for baked baby cabbage stuffed with mediterranean vegetables and couscous in
a neapolitan sauce at $18 – it sounded much better than it tasted, so we went on to fish of the day – perch
covered in a parsley sauce with 4 florets of broccoli at $22. Such small serves at such large prices! We left
still hungry, but the ambience was great – sitting in the sun, reading about Collingwood’s win & supping
wine/coffee. Such indulgence, 2 days in a row too. To get there we left North Creek Rd where we slept,
after a chat with a local who stopped to wish us good morning, and proceeded along Donaldson’s Rd. to
Maroondah Highway, then to the Dry Creek Rd where we were forced to backtrack because a tree had
fallen over the road (there is a lot of fallen timber about). At Mansfield we checked the mobiles (“You have
no messages”.) looked at the Sunday Market stalls and bought the newspaper.Then on to Whitfield on the
main road through Tolmie. After Whitfield we went along minor roads to Myrrhee, Greta West and
Glenrowan, St James and Tungamah. Wildlife seen today: a pardalote with a nest in a hollow of a tree
where we slept, hundreds of suphur-crested cockatoos obviously reaping the benefit of the soaking rains
as they seem to be fossicking for roots or bulbs of the grasses, a little group of wallabies, an emu; not-so-
wildlife: angora goats, 3 camels (at Mansfield – being ridden by visitors to the market. One kid was talking
on his mobile while riding and then held it in front of himself to show his listener a la the videophone ads
Yesterday H was
on TV) and assorted livestock. The sun shone over all and it was a great day.
commenting on how names often coincide with what people do. In NSW a guy
called Greentree is responsible 4 illegally clearing the vegetation (coolibah) on
one of the largest properties in the state 2 turn it in2 pasture. Its been pointed
out 2 me b4 th@ its strange how names often reflect the person. The xplanation is
th@ we come across a hell of a lot of names & it would be stranger still if some of
them ddnt coincide with what people do especially as in english many family
names r originally occupational names. (mozzies!) What we @ 1st think of as
coincidence, on reflection , often turns out 2 b the xpected. A more difficult
xample 2 xplain away happened yesterday when we stopped @ Ruffy (17 kids in
the primary school, recreation reserve) 4 a gourmet meal & 2 read the paper in a
pretty garden (patrolled by 2 inquisitive but well mannered sheep dogs who
appreciated a p@ & a ch@ without jumping all over u like spoilt city dogs do) of
what used 2 b a general store th@ sold xlnt hmbrgrs b4 it got converted in2 a high
class yuppy esta ishment. I asked the owner 4 a gl of red wine th@ was the
least acidy of the 1s he had & his wife suggested a merlot but he said they ddnt
have 1 so I said anything would do. Later he came out with a gl of red & said
th@ just then a local producer had come in with ½ a bottle of still unlabelled
merlot 4 him 2 sample. It was a good drop too. They must have talked about the
coincidence of it as the producer nodded a greeting 2 me as he drove away in his
ute. I told the owner I write about those kind of events (after he said what a
coincidence) & now I have. As with names it may b there is an obvious xplanation
but I cant think of it – especially if they become frequent occurrences. More
proematic and strange would b if predictions came out true. A couple of weeks
ago @ a BBQ on fathers day @ndd x the ZIZYS & the KABAILA family (Paul,
Suzette, Dana and Damien (29/7/10. @ owr BBQ lrst wek 2)) Kate & Joe did ‘I
Ching’ readings 4 me, H, Paul, Suzette & Dan. I know nothing about these things
but Frank L tells me there is a medieval italian version based on birthdates which
when he was talked in2 consulting made a remarkably accurate statement about

37
him which he told me but Ive 4gotten. In this case each of us had 2 throw 2 coins
6 times & from the head/tail combinations Joe (who knows how 2 do it) read the
relevant passages from a volume Kate had brought written in english but
translated from a german version translation of the chinese. I cant remember
what the readings 4 Paul & Suzette were other than th@ they were obscure &
internally contradictory. On behalf of Dan who arrived in Brooklyn, New York last
week to further his modelling career, we asked what his future held. The reading
was one of the most positive u can get. Helen had applied 4 an $11000 grant 4
her school & her question was “Will I get my grant?”. Here is the reply. I am
copying it verbatim from the card hastily written by Kate. I dont know what the
headings r supposed 2 mean. THE JUDGEMENT: the cauldron: supreme good
fortune. Success. THE IMAGE: Fire over wood: the image of the cauldron. Thus
the superior man consolidates his fate by making his position correct. NINE IN
THE THIRD PLACE MEANS: the handle of the ting is altered. One is impeded in his
way of life. The fat of the pheasant is not eaten. Once rain falls, remorse is spent.
Good fortune comes in the end. NINE IN THE FOURTH PLACE MEANS: the legs of
the ting are broken. The princes meal is spilled and his person is soiled.
(pobblebonk frogs have started calling in Boosey Creek). Misfortune. NINE AT
THE TOP: the ting has rings of jade. Great good fortune. Nothing that would not
act to further. THE ARMY: THE JUDGEMENT: The Army. The army needs
perseverance and a strong man. (30/9/03. Don’t we all, girls?) Good fortune without
blame. THE IMAGE: In the middle of the earth is water. The image is of the army.
Thus the superior man increases his masses by generosity towards the people….
That was Hs reading & she just told me she missed out on the grant! My question
was “How old will I be when I die?” Here is the answer. JUDGEMENT: Limitation,
success. Galling limitation must not be persevered in. IMAGE: Water over lake:
the image of LIMITATION. Thus the superior man creates number & measure &
examines the nature of virtue & correct conduct. SIX IN THE THIRD PLACE: He
who knows no limitation will have cause to lament. No blame. WAITING. THE
JUDGEMENT: Waiting. If you are sincere, you have light and success.
Perseverance brings good fortune. It furthers one to cross the great water.
(30/9/03. He’s off to Litholand next year!) THE IMAGE: Clouds rise up to heaven: The image
of WAITING. Thus the superior man eats & drinks, is joyous and of good cheer. (2
other kinds of frogs have joined in with the pobblebonks).
28/9/03. On reflection it seems an overly ambitious project 2 comment on
the languages of subjectivity or the inner states as a group since each 1 of them
has spawned entire literatures & their own schools of commentary. Yet we all
pass an opinion without reflection by assigning them 2 the same group by the
terms ‘subjective’ or ‘inner state’. We recognize a categorical relatedness be-
tween them however remote. We say th@ 2 feel pain & 2 feel happiness r both
subjective states yet they differ from each other as chalk from cheese (unless you’re
a sado-masochist!). It is worth noting th@ like individual words the languages of the
inner state r tools designed 2 effect outcomes but compared 2 words or
sentences they r very large implements indeed. They differ from each other as
aeroplanes from irrigation channels or a telefone xchange from a casino yet we
believe they belong 2 the same family. We say they r subjective becoz we claim

38
the knowledge of them is confined 2 the individual subject or person who is using
the languages yet it is obvious (2 me @ least) th@ the actions, gestures,
xclamations, words, facial expressions r jointly learnt from childhood requiring
constant practice & ing (in many cases supervised by cultural leaders) &
reinforced by common ept & iquity of usage (hence they can vary
between cultures). The ‘inner states’ which we feel 2 b so private could not have
evolved more convivially or jointly. & it is worth considering (a large was
looking @ us 100 yards away & hopped off when I lifted me head; H is doing a
crossword; I can hear a desert bellbird) th@ if someone says they ‘feel’ something
& I say 2 them what do u mean? (I keep asking it all the time) they r 4ced 2 give
xplanations in terms of bodily functions, agitations, incapacity or otherwise 2
sleep, trepidations, hand tremors (& faint sweating whch can b detected by sen-
sitive instruments), palpitations, racing , rising , gut pains, rush of ad-
renaline, dilating pupils, increasing blood pressure, lethargy, tears etc.etc. Which
brings me 2 the 2nd (the 1st was that they r not private) observation I want 2 make
about the ‘subjective states’: they r ALL OF THEM tangible (ie. or actions or prac-
tices). The word ‘state’ suggests they r immaterial like an electrical force field, or
an abstraction, or a soul, or a mind but these 2 r terms which bcome very
tangible under close scrutiny. How solid the inner states bcome depends on the
intensity of the scrutiny (which is always reductionist) & the sensitivity &
calibrations of the measuring instruments (which depend on hard & fast
agreements on the constancy of measure (hence Wittgensteins ‘standard meter’
in Paris whch cannot itself b a meter long)) we employ 2 extend our gaze (since
like monkeys we like 2 hold things in our dexterous hands in front of our faces &
peer intently). What used 2 seem ‘inner’, ‘private’, ‘hidden’, ‘secret’, ‘intangible’ is
now becoming objective but requiring a stethoscope or gastroscope 2 b
observed. Those who (H finished the giant crossword) do not find the world (3
apostle birds (Struthidea cinerea) flew by) 2 b beautiful (or whose world is in fact
awful) r appalled. Those like me who r equally addicted 2 the broad view, the
unfocused gaze, 2 general impressions, & 2 complexity r not overly impressed. It
is a feature of our civilization whch depends on the adoption of agreements 4
exact measure & the self ela ation made possible by turning ourselves in2
precise movements (thats the price) th@ we destroy cultures whose measures r
variable (eg. measuring time by how many moons it takes 2 arrive) & vague
individuals in our midst. We will destroy ourselves too. As a person who lives by
unstable measure I sense the basilisk like stare of those who would like 2 fix
(nail) things down. (You can outstare a basilisk at twenty paces!). AM …… 6PM. We climbed up
the hill under which we slept to get a view of the area – almost 360º. It was a beautiful spot & we were
totally alone in it – not a vehicle went by since we discovered it on Friday. Decided to move on to Lake
Cargellico - the drive there was again through picturesque scenery and we did a brief investigation of one
of the tracks to the river where the Salvation Jane was thick under continuous gums. Checked out the info
place in the town where 2 garrulous old ladies were manning the office, had a look at the lake, which is
large with an extensive shoreline, and then checked my mobile – a long message from Kate indicating that
mum is losing ground. I rang Bodalla and spoke to Tracey, the RN on duty, who said mum is taking
minimum food and liquid, is not attending activities (didn’t even watch the grand final and she is a fierce
Collingwood supporter), and is very tired all the time, though is not in pain from her foot. It sounds as if
her is finally slowing down. Tracey said the doctor will be called tomorrow (hopefully Dr. Doig is
available) for an assessment, as if things keep on like this mum will probably die. Kate suggested the
possibility that she has decided it’s time and that she’s had enough. I imagine that the level of pain she’s
had has both weakened her and given her a fright, as her one worry is that she will have to endure

39
along period of pain (“I don’t want to go out kicking and screaming” she often says). Kate read her a story
again and left her sleeping. Rang her to let her know we are heading south, also Joe when the message I
left for Ben on his mobile was cut off halfway. We are now in Binya State Forest in Cocopara National Park
and will be in Melbourne tomorrow (29/9/03. we r home @ 5am after driving through the
night). We realize now that mum must have been struggling, as the thrill she usually gets from visits by
her grandkids far outweighs both any minor health problems and my absence. She insisted to Kate that we
not be rung or called to come back, as she has also done on previous occasions – she is always keen that I
have a holiday. I think she is and has always been the least selfish person I know. I hope she hangs on
long enough for me to give her a last kiss, as she has loved me completely all my life without asking
A few days b4 we left Frank L rang 2 query me about the claim I
anything in return.
made in my previous piece th@ I was writing about the detail of small worlds. The
writer Sebald says somewhere (perhaps in ‘Vertigo’) th@ viewing history feels like
looking down from a huge skyscraper. On reflection I dont know what I meant by
small worlds or what might b large 1s. It feels as if Im looking outwards from the
centre of the universe. Perhaps each 1 of us is such a centre. It stretches away
in infinite detail equally in every direction no matter who u r. The stars go on
4ever.
2/11/03 (October 27 (no 41)). I am putting in Hs outline of the funeral service held @
the Le Pine funeral chapel in Ivanhoe consisting of her memories of Vi & cues 4 readings of biblical
excerpts by Ben, Joe, Kate, & herself which Ill include in the journal in full in the correct order over
the next days: We have come together here to express love and appreciation for our mother and
grandmother and to bear witness to the final stage of her journey. There are some who cannot be here,
but whose thoughts and love are with us – John’s mother Elena and sisters Rasa and Egle, mum’s nephew
Frank and his wife Roma, Bruce, Vanessa, Lucas, Mark and his family, Rachel and Rebecca and her family,
Michael and Dan. John has known mum for 40 years and begins this commemoration with his tribute:
(John). I also wish to speak of mum. The readings which follow speak to me of her and reflect in some way
her life’s purpose and meaning. Mum was not conventionally religious but she had a deep faith in God.
Every night of my childhood she sat on the end of my bed to say her prayers – “prayers” is misleading, she
simply talked to God, telling him off when she felt the need, thanking him when things were going well,
asking for help for various members of the family when they weren’t, and for herself only the strength to
bear things when disaster struck. Sometimes she was so vehement in her conversations with him that my
bed actually shook. During her time at Bodalla she started to go to mass (both Catholic and Anglican – she
joked that there was nothing else on during Tuesday afternoons and it filled in the time) and struck up a
friendship with both the priest and the minister, of whom she asked difficult questions, and with whom she
enjoyed some laughs. She received extreme unction a week before her death and was glad. She did not
fear death and believed in an afterlife where loved ones were reunited. Ben will now read the 23 rd Psalm
from the Book of Psalms: (Ben). The thing that most amazed me about mum was her capacity to make
friends – she did it effortlessly wherever she went. People were drawn to her. “I love people” she used to
say, and “You’ve got to be a friend to have a friend”. She didn’t have much time for politicians, big-wigs,
toffee-noses, do-gooders, the aristocracy or pomp and ceremony. Her Irishness contributed to that, as did
her childhood experiences of living in the West End of Adelaide, and seeing the bailiffs evict families who
couldn’t pay their rent during the depression. Though we know she could be obstinate and opinionated,
and didn’t suffer fools gladly, she was always a kind, compassionate defender of the underdog. When we
lived at Ebony Parade, she was the person the neighbours came to in emergencies – to deliver a baby who
turned up unexpectedly, to look after toddlers while their mothers were in hospital (once we had one for a
month, and another one for 3 weeks), to be a sympathetic listener when husbands played up, to lend
money, sugar, tea, bread, cigarettes when they had run out, to take up hems, sew on buttons, patch holes
in trousers or jumpers, knit baby jackets, make dolls, sit with invalids, make people feel better by simply
being with her. When I was in my final year of high school one of the first overseas Chinese students in
Victoria enrolled. He was miserable, lonely and isolated, boarding at a house with an elderly landlord. Mum
“adopted” Alfred, and he came every weekend and most school holidays for two years to eat at her table,
bask in her warmth and laugh at her jokes. Once he showed her a photograph of some old temple in Hong
Kong and she said that it was a picture of her – “an old ruin”. That’s how he referred to her after that –
“You are my friend, old ruin”. At Bodalla, she won hearts among the staff, other residents and the
residents’ relatives because she was unfailingly positive, smiled easily and often and cracked them up
with marvellous one-liners. (When the physio suggested a daily exercise plan, she said she already did
exercises. “Oh, what do you do?” “I blink and I breathe and that’s enough.” One of the staff told me that it
was routinely asked in the staff tea-room: “What did Vi say today?”) . Joseph will read The Beatitudes, from
the Gospel according to Matthew: (Joe). If there was only one word left in the language to describe mum,
one word to capture the essence, it has to be love. Love caused her so much pain at times – when she was
separated from Dean and Verna, when her beloved mum died at 56 (“too young, I didn’t have enough of

40
her”), when Verna died, when Michael suffered his mental illness. But it gave her her reason for living too,
and the greatest satisfactions of her life: her reuniting with Dean and the way her Sydney family
welcomed her and enfolded her into their lives gave her absolution for what she felt was the most
grievous fault of her life (the day the clan visited last year was, she said, “a perfect day”); the joy she got
from being intimately involved with her Melbourne grandchildren gave her, she often told me, “the best
time of my life.” She loved unconditionally and unstintingly and stored up a treasure of anecdotes and
memories she delighted in telling everyone, proving how intelligent, charming, beautiful, and unique her
kids were. “I wouldn’t care if they didn’t love me”, she used to say, “I love them enough for all of us.”
Throughout my life, I always knew mum would be there when I needed her, that she would do whatever I
asked of her, that she loved me completely whatever my faults. I will miss laughing and crying with her,
listening to her voice, seeing her face, watching her quick always busy hands knit or sew or polish brass or
peel potatoes or catch hold of a child for a hug and a kiss. Kate will read from Paul’s letter to the
Corinthians: (Kate). In the morning of Friday the 10th of October 2003, Violet Josephine Dryburgh ended
her life’s journey. In the afternoon, Emma Jane Violet Choi, mum’s great great granddaughter, began hers.
So the circle is unbroken. Life in all its joy, pain and mystery continues. The final reading, to conclude this
memorial, is from Ecclesiastes: (Helen). 14/10/03.… What I had called the Pooncarie/Darnick rd is
called Ivanhoe road according 2 the sign @ the T intersection. It reads: 32ks Darnick, 197 Balranald,
201 Buronga, 98 Pooncarie. There were feral goats about (as on the previous property) which some
people dont ociate with fl@ country. The station @ the intersection is called ‘C-Lake’. 44ks further
I passed the turnoff 2 Mungo 68ks away which reminded me, honey, of the time about 27 years ago I
suppose it was when we rounded this corner in the V8 Falcon in the on our way from Mungo 2
Pooncarie. Michael & Kate were with us then & as the got heavier I was finding it harder & harder
2 hold the road surface as even the slightest deviation off the exact centre had me sliding sideways
but we managed 2 keep going 4 quite a while b4 we found a slightly less slippery bit & got off it & in2
the mallee. (8/11/03. I remem-ber it well. We actually slid off the road at last and the car came to rest at
quite an angle in the shallow gutter on the edge and we were pulled out later in the day a bit too
suddenly by a bloke in a 4 wheel drive who was slightly drunk and showing off his clever car- helenz.)
Weve got a foto of the spot among huge clumps of spinifex. Th@ was when I got a fire going in the
drizzle after the stopped with u & the kids supplying me with a conveyor supply of twigs & dry
bark from under stumps etc. I still cant underst& how we did it. We finally got a great hot enough
2 b able 2 keep it going with wet wood. Next day we drove in2 Pooncarie which u wouldnt recognise
now. I ddnt. There is a sealed road from Mildura (& mayb the1 2 Menindee is 2 but I ddnt check),
mown picnic & BBQ areas, modern houses some of brick & some with solar electricity. Its an ordinary
country town. There is a toilet block with hot/cold showers & I wouldve had 1 if the hot water had
been working. When I went 4 a I found I couldnt get in2 the cubicle as some prankster had bolted
the door from the inside. No doubt a kid who crawled out under the door. I couldnt do anything about
it bcoz my ribs rnt in good enough nick 4 me 2 do stuff like climb over or crawl under (8/11/03. howd
ya b if some1 came in just as u were ½ way under). Luckily there was a family having lunch @ a
trestle table & I asked them 2 keep nit while I used the womens block which u may b interested 2
know has better amenities than the mens having 2 toilets instead of 1, a larger mirror, & a much
larger wash basin with a bit of soap so I was able 2 wash me h&s & face but not have a shower as
theirs wasnt working either. Got petrol & 2 tomatoes & an onion @ the general store. Found a yard
with no1 home whch had a loquat tree loaded with fruit just ready 2 pick. Heaps of fruit was lying on
the ground & there was 2 much on the tree 4 even the local birds 2 spoil so I loaded up a bag 2 add 2
my supplies. Theyre delicious & I was eating them like peanuts as I was driving along but I think I
picked more than Ill b able 2 consume. Thats australia 4 u – l& of plenty. I crossed the Darling @
Pooncarie & continued on the dirt road going north along the west side with the help of 2 stubbies of
beer. It is called the alternative Broken Hill road. Ill turn off it 2morrow 18ks north of here heading
west again 2wards Coombah Roadhouse & then in2 the country west of the Silver City Highway
(which connects Broken Hill 2 Mildura). Im about 4ks off the road. Ive come here on what looks like a
rarely used station track but its in good condition so I hope I dont get sprung. Its beautiful country
typical of the Ana-Branch area of the Darling river but I cant b bothered describing it. U probably
remember this kind of country anyway. Taking some loquats & going 4 a stroll (4.20).…(7.15) Was
back @ 6.50. Wont  the walk. U cant get an idea no m@er what I say unless u have been here
bcoz I cant think of any other place 2 compare it with. It was beaut though & I saw heaps of birds
including a dead wedge tail in 1 of the lake (all dry) outflow channels. Instead I want 2 switch 2 a
completely different topic 2 lay the groundwork 4 a commnt I want 2 pass in a few days on the bible

41
xcerpt Kate read out @ the funeral. Let us say th@ 1 night I saw myself lying asleep in bed from
directly above as if I was plastered 2 the ceiling of my bedroom. I think youve guessed already it was
an out-of-body xperience. Then the very next night I again saw myself from xactly the same vantage
but it was only a dream. Since both cases r described in the same language how can I convince u 1
was a dream & the other not? How can I know myself? G.E.Moore, 1 of whose xamples of common
sense knowledge was knowing when u r awake (unlike the chinese sage who thought he might b a
thoughtful butterfly) might answer th@ some things u simply know. But I suspect he wasnt subject 2
the kinds of borderline xperiences (between waking & sleeping?) 2 whch I am. Also he probably had
no knowledge of xperiences whch r more vvid & compelling than in daily life of the kind which r
sometimes induced by drugs. 1 of his common sense certainties, th@ u can b sure u have never
been far from the surface of the earth, has already been invalidated by space travel as its possible u
could have been taken in2 space & back while anaesthetised. Anyway if I told an audience of my own
out-of-body xperiences I couldnt object if some of them wanted proof 4 after all getting right our of
your body is a terrific achievement which most would grant puts me in some authority over those who
cant do it. Mayb they could watch 1 night 2 c if they spotted a vague outline of the part of me that got
out against the ceiling but if they ddnt I could explain th@ I had just had 1 of them but as the term
implies the body remains on the bed & its only the invisible me th@ gets out & watches from the top.
If they were still sceptical then I might demonstrate what I can do in front of the entire lecture hall (or
congregation) by slowly rising in2 the air. This method might b called validation by levitation. It still
wouldnt show I could get out of me body but it would show I could make myself lighter than air & it
might do. @ least it would prove I could do marvellous things & ddnt need 2 prtend I had had an out-
of-body xperience instead of an ordinary dream like any1 else just 2 pull rank. Miracles have their
problems however. Wittgensteins deniable propositions become useless, science 2 slow by
comparison, & the world 2 chaotic a place 2 live in unless they r so rare there is no chance u r ever
going 2 c 1 4 yourself. Similar considerations apply also 2 visions.
(27/7/10. Completion of days from folder 4 (nos 34-41 of Og))

22/2/04 (16/2/04 – 27/2/04 (no 42)). I m quoting from ‘The Ruin of Kasch’ x Roberto
Calasso © Vintage 1995. ISBN 0099576317: “The cruel recklessness that intoxicated France
between the Regency and the Estates General brought with it, among other things, an
attitude of complete indifference towards images, a temporary obfuscation. As Madame
Geoffrin said to someone who was boring her with an endless tale: “To be successful in
France, one needs big knives and little stories.” Big knives were being readied; little
stories were being told … On an island washed by the currents of the Rhine, a wooden
pavilion had been erected: “the house of the consignment”. There Maria Antonietta, as
she was called in childhood, became forever Marie Antoinette. The consignment took
place on the international border, which ran down the middle of the pavilion and through
the great table in the centre of the main hall. Marie Antoinette entered the pavilion from
the Austrian side. In the last room before the border she was slowly undressed before
the escort that had accompanied her from Vienna. Not even a ribbon or a hairpin was to
remain in contact with her body. She was then offered, naked…This act of sacrificial
stripping effected her complete transfer to the land that was clothing her with her
destiny. Protocol is the last power for protecting abandoned symbols. It ensures that
symbols, even when they are not perceived as such, can continue to act, often with an
added touch of sarcasm…. Marie Antoinette, her “terrible destiny sown throughout with
intersignes” had entered Strasbourg as a fourteen year old fiancee in a crystal coach
and thus drew near the threshold of the excess of meanings that would later overwhelm
her. The crippled, the old, and the ill were hidden from her sight, just as they had been
from the young Buddha. On the island in the middle of the Rhine, the masters of
ceremony had chosen the place where the archduchess was to be handed over, naked,
to her husband’s envoys. The special pavilion, its rooms decorated with the tributes to
the future queen, had been built to receive her. In the main hall one’s gaze became lost
among the vast tapestries, an inaugural gift from France. Goethe (ccording 2 Calasso,
ccording 2 Eduard Genast many years l8r on the mornng of august 27 had orderd his servant 2 place
2 bottls of wine on diffrnt windowsills then paced up & down the room pausing @ reglar ntervls 1 st @
1 window, then the othr 2 drink a glass @ each pause. This evnt took place in Karlsbad wher he was

42
travlling @ the time wth his friend Rehbein who on ntring the room was greetd x Goethe wth the
words: dear friend! What day is this, & what is the d8? 2 whch Rehbein answrd: its august the 27th,
excellency & Goethe said: no its the 28th & its my birthday (69th). They rgued about it till Goethe snt
his servnt 2 fetch the calendr whch showd tha@ it was the 27 th. Aftr a long pause Goethe xclaimd:
Damn! Then I got drunk 4 nothing!), then a young student, made several visits there shortly
before Marie Antoinette’s procession entered the city. Setting foot in the great hall, he
saw something frightful. “The room had been hung with a great many brilliant,
sumptuous tapestries, which were encircled by rich ornamentation and modeled on
paintings by contemporary French artists. Now, I might perhaps have come to accept
this style, since my feelings, like my judgement, did not readily reject anything entirely;
but the subject was too revolting to me. Those images told the story of Jason, Medea,
and Creusa: in other words they portrayed an example of an utterly wretched marriage.
To the left of the throne the bride was shown in the grip of the most appalling death,
surrounded by people expressing sympathy and grief; to the right was the father,
horrified by the sight of the murdered infants at his feet; meanwhile the Fury sped away
into the air on her dragon chariot. And just so this repellent, atrocious scene would not
lack a crowning touch of absurdity the white tail of that magic bull curled around from
behind the right side of the gold embroidered red velvet throne. The fire spitting beast
itself and Jason, locked in combat were completely covered by a luxurious drapery .
…‘What!’ I cried, paying no attention to the bystanders. ‘Is it possible that a young
queen, newly arrived in her dominions, could be so thoughtlessly allowed to gaze on
images of what may have been the most horrible marriage ever consumated! Among
the French architects, decorators, and upholsterers, isn’t there a single person who
understands that pictures represent something, that pictures work on the mind and
feelings, make impressions, excite forebodings? Mightn’t they just as well have sent the
most ghastly specter to meet this beautiful and pleasure loving lady at the border?’” But
Goethe’s young friends tried to calm him, assuring him that nowadays nobody bothered
“to look for meaning in pictures; that to them, at least, nothing of the sort would have
occurred; and that all the people of Strasbourg and the surrounding towns, who would
gather there for the occasion, would no more entertain such fancies than the queen
herself and her court.”” → Pearl Point (a 4ty mnute stroll west along the shor; mpty stubbies of
ermn litterd the shor 4 anothr k aftr the point & almost mmedi8ly aftr the last of thm I found a
perfct papr nautilus shell. Ther r 2 varieties whch get washd up here: it was the mor elgent & fragile
kind whch can b bigger than the other in this case covring my h& wth fngrs outstretchd. It was a 1 off
as during the rest of the day, carrying it in my so as not 2 damage it, I ddnt c evn a fragmnt of a
shell 2 ndic8 othrs had bn blown ashor prviously) → Dock Inlet (1 of the few rmainng pristine waters
along the coast of Vic; scientfic litrture claims its water has no access 2 the c but I found yrs ago wher
it flows thrgh dens t tree scrub in2 the stream just 2 the west & so out 2 c: so much for acdemics!
(4/3/04. c pp.95-96 of ‘Sites of Geological and Geomorphological Significance in East Gippsland,
Victoria.’ 1981 x Ministry for Conservation, Victoria Environmental Studies Division © Publication No.
320. Prepared x Department of Goeography, Melbourne University. Printed x Government printer.
ISBN 072412621X) I hav nevr cn it wth so littl water. This is the lake, , wher wev got a foto of u
†ing it in the nuddy, chest deep, holding your day pack abov your head. Th@ was the lowst water levl
I had cn till then as the narrow in the middl of the lake is not normlly †abl. 2day th@ section is hgh &
dry & I walkd † wthout getting my feet wet. It dvides Dock Inlet in2 2 lakes. I had a swim not bcoz I
needd it on a cool day but motv8d x obscure notions of purifcation whch some mght call mystcal
(note daily purifcation rtuals practised x the Qumran sect in the time of the nazarene & john the
baptist) & x the thght th@ swimmng was good 4 me back, whch x the way, is not playing up. Walked
about xploring the shors of the lake whch r much easier 2 get about on wth the water so low. →
Gunnai Beach (I had left the van @ 10.20 & was back @ 4.00. The fshrmn who had bn @ Pearl Point
in the mornng (c@ching mullet, whiting, & salmon) (4/3/04. ie. Mugil cephalus (Linnaeus, 1758),
Sillago ciliata (Cuvier, 1829), Arripis trutta (Bloch & Schneider, 1801)) wer gon whn I passd it on the
way back. M about 2 rsume readng ‘The Authentic Gospel …’ Ystrdy evning I read the summry of the
Freud rtcle ‘Das Unheimliche’ & a bit of the riginal. I think it has no relvence 2 my observations on
‘COINCIDENCE’ & is probbly not the source of Austers quotes. I sppose some people may get a
sens of the uncanny whn ‘coincidence’ mirrors (ie doubles) meanngful evnts but I dont get the feeling.

43
I m just curious (& sometimes mazed) & 1dr how such ‘coincidences’ might b xplainabl. If Freud or
any1 els has a solution I hope they draw my @10tion 2 it but I m equally happy 2 accept not knowin
… 7.40. Just read the 2nd ½ of the riginal & was sprised 2 find how useless the summrized version
had bn. Yes Freud does tackl the problm I rfer 2 & Paul Austers quotes (whch I dont rmmber) no
doubt do com from here. & here I go again wth a long quote: “every obsessional neurotic I have
observed has been able to relate analogous experiences. They are never surprised at
their invariably running up against someone they have just been thinking of, perhaps for
the first time for a long while. If they say one day ‘I haven’t had any news of so and so
for a long time’, they will be sure to get a letter from him the next morning, and an
accident or a death will rarely take place without having passed through their mind a
little before. They are in the habit of referring to this state of affairs in the most modest
manner, saying that they have ‘presentiments’ which ‘usually’ come true” & “animism,
magic and sorcery, the omnipotence of thoughts, man’s attitude to death, involuntary
repetition and the castration complex comprise practically all the factors which turn
something frightening into something uncanny.” & “the uncanny proceeds from
something familiar which has been repressed. We have noticed … nearly all the
instances that contradict our hypothesis are taken from the realm of fiction, of
imaginative writing.” & “an uncanny experience occurs either when infantile complexes
which have been repressed are once more revived by some impression, or when
primitive beliefs which have been surmounted seem once more to be confirmed” &
TAKE SPECIAL NOTE OF THIS: “The situation is altered as soon as the writer pretends to
move in the world of common reality. In this case he accepts as well all the conditions
operating to produce uncanny feelings in real life; and everything that would have an
uncanny effect in reality has it in his story. But in this case he can even increase his
effect and multiply it far beyond what could happen in reality, by bringing about events
which never or very rarely happen in fact. In doing this he is in a sense betraying us to
the superstitiousness which we have ostensibly surmounted; he deceives us by
promising to give us the sober truth, and then after all overstepping it. We react to his
inventions as we would have reacted to real experiences; by the time we have seen
through his trick it is already too late and the author has achieved his object …. He can
keep us in the dark for a long time about the precise nature of the presuppositions on
which the world he writes about is based, or he can cunningly and ingeniously avoid any
definite information on the point to the last. Speaking generally, however, we find a
conformation of the second part of the propositon: that fiction presents more
opportunities for creating uncanny feelings than are possible in real life.” Hmmm! U b the
judge.
4/4/04 (3/4/04 – 12/4/04 (no 43)). →Merton (bought the Age) → Strathbogie (via
Galls Gap rd & Polly McQuinn Weir; c Map 47 @ 7.3 x D2) →T@ong (via Kithbrook, Boho, pool
wher w read the pper out front v the T@ong Tavern @ 5.2 x C2 Map 48 nxt2 a sign saying “It’s a boy!
Harry Simon. Congratulations Nick & Noami”) → Whitfield (@ H2 x 5.8 Map 48 via Mollyulla, Greta
South, Myrrhee, & wr @ the pub wher Im drinkin red wine). For those of you keen on statistics,
Strathbogie is 535m above sea level (a board in the town says so), Gooram Falls is a 400m walk from the
car park, 13ks from Merton on the Euroa Road, and Polly McQuinn’s is 5.5 ks from Strathbogie and 6.5
from Merton. We woke up to loud good mornings from the sheep and cattle on “Brilliant”and after
breakfast meandered about with the intention of getting to the Whitfield pub for another gourmet noshup.
Too bad, the kitchen closed at 2.30pm and we arrived about 3. So its sandwiches and packet soup for tea.
The meanderings revealed the extremely pretty Gooram Falls Reserve where a substantial stream flows
from a series of shallow falls across granite and sand & into reed beds downstream. Even in drought it’s
really impressive, and so close to Melbourne that you could drive up on a Saturday, sleep over and come
home Sunday night (though officially its not a camping spot). There are quite a few of these little reserves
tucked away in the area. Polly McQuinn’s is a roadside spot where a weir has blocked a creek and the
outfall spills over large sheets of granite into a big reed edged pool where the Fisheries have a sign
prohibiting recreational fishing in a bid to safeguard a fish called a Trout Cod. We walked in both places.
Saw a big property grazing alpacas, including several babies, one of which was creamy white with long,
silk-like fleece which rippled as is ran. The Tatong Tavern was fancy, but while we were there the CFA fire
alarm/siren came on and stayed on for quite a while – there was a grass fire at Molyulla. We also saw quite
a big pall of smoke in the forested hills nearby. Everything is bone dry – the grass is straw coloured or
grazed completely in some paddocks, and most small creeks are empty. The only green patches are the

44
vineyards, of which there are quite a few. Just before Whitfield we stopped by the road to harvest some
small yellow clingstone peaches from a young tree – delicious, though a bit tart. We are on the lookout for
walnuts, but have only seen a variety that are not yet ripe and the fallen ones from last season can’t be
opened because the surrounding covering is too tough to break. We saw a large brown snake on the road
which we nearly drove over, but it lived to see another day. Since my last trip I did c@ch up with
PETER THE WAITER (c ‘16/2/04 – 27/2/04’ p6) who has bn servng us @ the BOCADILLO BAR 4
1½ years. Th@ was on 23/3/04 & he is ndeed TREASURER OF PASMINCO. He took on the
waiterin x his own choice so as not 2 b a ‘square’.He has also completed writin a script 4 a 15 min
film whch will b shown (I was bout 2 pull out ‘Sculpting in Time’ x TAaRnKdOrVeSyKY th@
BROcUhGrHiTsON from Parkhill Cellars had lent me but he had lready read it & whn I told him Id cn
‘Nostalgia’ th@ mornin he said hed cn it 2). Bsides his fnance dgree he has a dgree in sociology & a
post grad dgree in phlosphy. His motto is – SERVICE. 1 night whn he was takin a break out front 4 a
smoke wth his waitrs towl hangin out back, lookin dreamy, H had rmarkd “I’d like to introduce him to
Kate”. He is 39 & his name is PAPApGeEtOeRrGIOU. The phlosphy dgree (13/4/04. only the very
best brains can srvive 1 of thos) though is a trap, m8, – it sucks u in 2 usin long words. As Heraclitus
(ccording 2 Diogenes Laertius (CE. C 200) in his 8th book ‘Lives and Opinions of Eminent
Philosophers’: “When somebody asked Heraclitus to decree some rules, he showed no interest
because the government of the city was already bad. Instead he went to the Temple of Artemis and
played dice with children. Finally he became a misanthrope, withdrew from the world, and lived in
mountains feeding on grass and plants. However, having fallen in this way into dropsy he came down
to town and asked the doctors in a riddle if they could make a drought out of rainy weather. When
they did not understand he buried himself in a -stall, expecting that the dropsy would be
evaporated by the heat of the ; but even so he failed to effect anything and ended his life at the
age of sixty.” Scholars place his death @ about 475 BCE.) known as The Obscure Philosopher said
(Fragment 93, Plutarch de Pyth. or. 21, 404 E) “The lord whose oracle is in Delphi neither speaks
out nor conceals, but gives a sign.” Here is a txt picture of LfOrVaEnCkE gettin the info 4 me (Im
drinkin my 2nd glass of Francesco Cab Merlot x $6 each) -
www.camargofoundation.org/fellowdeatails.asp?recno=427 - 9k – Cached – Similar Pages: LATO –
Greek texts – P … Plutarch, On Isis and Osiris. LacusCurtius (tr. FC Babbitt, 1936). Plutarch, On
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.tripod.com/lato/gk_p.htm – 60k – 13 Mar 2004 – Cached – Similar pages Book: CaMF: Translators
Notes … Priest translation, 1941, p. 101.4. Sophocles, Fragment 719. 5. Plutarch, Moralia, DE E
apud Delphos, 392 A-E. (The E at Delphi, 17 and 18.). 6. … wn elib.com/Steiner/Books/
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from www.ciaamazonicadolivro.com] [PPT] GRECO-ROMAN RELIGIONS File Format: Microsoft
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. Its 5.05 & a group of young peopl woz walkin past & 1 of thm said LABAS & it was DIlDiŽnYaTĖ &
sh said “what a COINCIDENCE” so I gave her a copy of ‘16/2/04 – 27/2/04’ but remmbrd l8r Id lready
givn her mum 1 a coupl of weeks ago @ litho house. Lukas, Justina & Lisa Skimbirauskas r also
here. Lisa & Lina r Dans contmpries & they tell me they wer his dancin partnrs in MALUNĖLIS. So I
gave thm the foto of Dan in the New York Times. → (6.00pm) Gentle Annie Reserve a few ks out of
Whitfield. Iv bn here many times (c ‘11/11/02 – 20/11/02’ pp 2-4) on the bank of the King rivr but Iv
nevr cn king parrots (Alisterus scapularis) in such numbr. Theyr evrywhr in flocks up 2 about 30. In
fact Im not sure if Iv cn thm here b4 @ all. (c ‘16/2/04 – 27/2/04’ p2).
11/4/04. →Peechelba (nvestig8d McLaughlins Bend Reserve a few ks 2 the north on
Ovens rvr) → Yarrawonga (via backrd; read ppr with coffee @ $3.80/mug) → Corowa → Rutherglen
(strolld O food & wine town) → Chiltern (beer @ pub; bric-a-brac town) → McLaughlins Bend
Reserve (@ 4.2 x E4 Map34). We are in a peachy spot off the Peechelba road in river redgum forest,
where one of the grasses/plants under-foot is giving off a very pleasant peppermint fragrance as we walk

45
around. This is a relatively young forest, with few really big trees, but it is still impressive. River redgums
are one of my favourite trees as the big ones grow complicated, twisted branches, especially in arid areas,
which gives each tree a distinctive personality. Their forests are always alive with cockatoo and/or corella
calls, so they have their own dominant music. The ironbark forest of this morning seemed much more
uniform , though it’s the replacement forest for the one the gold miners destroyed. This forest is being
destroyed too by the regulation of the Murray with its weirs and artificial lakes, like Lake Mulwala, which
prevents the natural cycle of flooding needed to reseed the gums, and by the earlier indiscriminate felling
of trees in such quantities that many were left to rot where they had been lopped. Much of Lake Mulwala
looks quite surreal – a wide expanse of water punctuated with the exclamation marks of grey, dead gums.
Closer to the populated areas (Yarrawonga and Bundalong) there are no standing ghosts (pushed over so
the water skiers and boaters can have a free run). Bundalong (12ks from Yarrawonga upstream) was
interesting – it’s a pleasure/leisure development where the rich can practice idling, with large houses right
on the water, like the keys developments in coastal NSW – no shops, no pub but quite a few fluffy dogs.
Yarrawonga is large, comfortable and full of tourists packing the coffee shops, including us. We should
have opted for Corowa or Rutherglen or Chiltern – all smaller, more relaxed and probably cheaper. Corowa
in particular had a great atmosphere and streetscape – still a country town. Rutherglen is the centre of
grape growing, so feels a bit more commercial, and Chiltern is hanging in on the basis of its 19 th century
look and the “cuteness” of its ye olde knick-knack shoppes. This morning in the Warby Range State Forest
while we were breakfasting we heard a strange noise a cross between a grunt and a bellow. Koala,we
thought, then possibly a deer in rut, but it turned out to be a lonely emu in a pen on the deer farm next
door. Its easter. From ‘Good News Australia’: “On that same day two of Jesus’ followers were going
to a village named Emmaus, about eleven kilometres from Jerusalem, and they were talking to each
other about all the things that had happened. As they talked and discussed, Jesus himself drew near
and walked along with them; they saw him, but somehow did not recognise him” (Luke 24. 13-16). 1
of the bibilcal rfrnces in Tarkovskys ‘Stalker’ is 2 this passage. The Stalker hears these words in a
dream & its as if in som way they apply 2 him & the 2 (the prof & the writer) whm he is guiding 2 the
room in the ‘zone’ wher u r grantd anything u wish. The idea th@ if he appeard among us again jesus
of nazareth may fail 2 b rcognized has bn poplarized in the film ‘Jesus of Montreal’ a favourite of the
baptists @ the nd of Miller st. West Melb. wher it has bn shown on their film evenngs on sevral
ccasions. The currncy of ths notion (any idea can find backing in the bible from a single passage
ncluding the claim th@ the nazarenes purpose was 2 encourage ÷ & strife) derives from the fact th@
in the scientfic age wev ceased 2 blieve th@ the MIRACLES @ributed 2 JESUS could in fact hav
takn place. W r nclined 2 say th@ what counts r the teachings & if a rsurrected JESUS came wth the
same message again w would either ignore him or lock him up as our practices (whatver we may
claim) r the opposit 2 what he taught. But it is as plain as the nose on your face th@ what countd 4
the apostles & the 1st christians wer the MIRACLES & if the JESUS they blieved in walkd among us
1ce mor pr4ming the same feats of healing, making the blind c, the crippls walk & raising the dead he
would b nstantly rcognizable & again b the centr of @ntion as he was in galilee. Morover the christian
dialectic rests ntirely on the cceptance of the MIRACLES & the rsurrection othrwise no1 would bliev
the claim 2 godhead. Nor should they as the things jesus said can b said x any1 & probly hav bn
(14/4/04. with the xeption only of the nstruction 2 turn the other cheek, lov enmies, do good 2 thos
th@ hate u etc, ie the whol pacifist thing whch w dont act on anyway). 2 blieve th@ the nazarene
mght walk among us again after 2000 years (or has bn among us all the time) beggars credulity far
mor (4 thos who may think ther r dgrees of mpossblity) than do the miracles (whch some may contnd
r not mpossblities but only rare evnts) or the rsurrection after 1, 2 or 3 days (4 he may hav bn
ncorrectly pronounced dead). If u can blieve in the 2nd coming ther is no reason 2 doubt the miracles
& the rsurrection. The 3 notions r nterlinkd & st& or fall as a group. But 2 blieve thm rquires u 2 viol8
the rules whch 4m language & the laws on whch science & technolgy rely 2 construct the civlz8ion
whch we know. The blief in miraclous powrs also sustains the christians of africa, south america &
othr mpovrishd regions wher peopl who hav non of the things we take 4 grantd depnd on the
knowledge th@ the deaths of their childrn & dear 1s r not in vain & th@ they will b reunitd in anothr
life. The aged dying in our nursing homes also in the nd oftn may com 2 accept the mpossible. Let
som latte drinking western theologian tell thm th@ a few rules 4 good living is what JESUS OF
NAZARETH was really about & c how they react. But I only hav words & I hav made a commitmnt not
2 abuse meaning though I m an admirer of the xampl of the nazarenes life & of many of his sayings.
4 me 2 prtnd th@ I blong 2 the same fr@ernty as thos early & blieving christians would b comparable
2 a man blind from birth wer he 2 claim th@ his blief in the sun, moon & stars was the same as th@
of the sighted mans. The blind man blieves in the words but the man with sight marvels @ their
beauty. (Heraclitus – “The things of which there is seeing and hearing and perception, these do
I prefer” (Fragment 55, Hippolytus Ref. IX 9,5)).

46
 30/5/04 (Melbourne Kaunas (no 45)). 6.25 am. I 4got 2 mntion ystrdy whn I was
dscribn my breakfst th@ as I was readn th ppr wth me wine a boy of O 12, wth a long sad face came
→ me & quietly pleadd 4 money. I ddnt giv any & l8r saw him thrgh th front wndow walkn ↓ th street
jauntly h&s in pockts. On my 1st mornn here as I was climbn th steps in2 Vytautas Park an oldr kid, 15
or so, sportly dressd wth baseball cap & small day pack askd 4 a cigrett. He lookd no diffrnt 2 any
such kid in Melb. Th most commn way of beggn is 4 an old womn 2 b kneeln on a piece of cloth on th
pavemnt hunchd ovr fingrn a rosry & mumbln prayrs. They try 2 c@ch sght of hoo is comn out of th
cornrs of their eyes. 1 such thankd me profusely as I was walkn away askn god 2 favour me wth evry
kind of good 4tune. U put your coin in2 an rdinry drinkn cup whch they hold or is on th gO. They of10

position thmslvs eithr side of doorways. As I was leavn th Vytautas (oldst in Kaunas) x th
Nemunas rivr ystrdy whr I had w@chd a weddn I had 2 make sure I had 2 coins of = value (20c) as I
ddnt 1t 2 favr 1 ovr th othr. Sually I pass them x. In th  @ th eastrn nd of Laisvės Alėja near th
distinktiv, beautful & huge cathedral (but wher th paintngs of th st8ns of th † nside r kitch) whch is 1 of
th l&marks of th city ther is 1 of th only 2 publik toilts (th othr is in Rotušės  (4/8/04. c covr map) @
th ←→ nd of Vilniaus st) Iv bn abl 2 find. U pay 24c 2 th womn in th room nside th door 2 use thm.
Ther was an old womn in th sual kneeln positin ½ way btween th church & th toilt. 2 pay th womn in
th toilt I had changed a 50c coin & if I hadnt givn th rmainn 26c → beggr it would hav meant I had
valued her less than a PISS. Last night O 11 whn I → O th cornr 4 a beer ther was a boy in a kneeln
position outside what he would considr an xpnsiv rstraunt (dirt cheap x our st&rds). He was about 12,
in track suit, & wth his roller blades on. I doubt if he kept up th position 4 long but som of th old womn
stay like th@ 4 hours. I also saw a man kneeln hunchd ovr a dog btween his rms. Vaidas reckns its
only rcently, wth th rrival of th 2rsts, th@ beggn has strtd & th@ they r mor numrous in Melbourn (but
ther they dont work as hard & earn much mor). Theyr prffssionls he reckns & my cousin Juozas Žižis
hoom I met ystrdy whn I → 2 c th hous in Biliuno (now Smetono) g. x th Nemunas (much wider than
th Murray & flowing strongly) in Panemune whr I had spnt th 1st 3 years of my life & whr th oak
(10000 Lt fine if its cut down) whch was plantd @ my birth is 1 of the largest s O & undr whch th
boy (took me 5 mins 2 konvince him 2 opn th door as he was in th hous x himself; th hous has bn
dvided → 2 & I had knockd on th wrong door) had cn a hedgehog (ežiuka) (me & Juozas saw an otter
(ūdra) undr th bridge wher th Jesios rivr → Nemunas) says they dont need 2 do it. Vaidas has rung
(7.50 am) 2 suggst w → song fstvl in Vilnius (Vilna, Vilno) & thn → his place near Ukmergė 4 a nght x
a fire in th opn & ← 2 Kaunas 2morrow so I hav 2 pack me daypack & rush → get a bite 2 eat as he
will b here x 9.30. …
6/6/04 (ŠIAULIAI (no 46) (30/7/10. thkuvr vth rjnl 
owt wozr map v +rn getoo &
 v v v nWW2). Im quotn from th booklt from th Šiauliai 2rsm info centre. "INVITATION.
The city of Šiauliai has always been at the crossroad of highways and little paths
between north and south, east and west. (paragraph) The Šiauliai crossroad is not only a
crossing point of five highways and six railway routes but also a joining point of Žemaitija
and Aukštaitija regions. Moreover, Šiauliai is (the use of the present tense (7/8/04. I note th rtkl
in th booklt my mum gave me was writtn in 1991) here is xtrordnary & a xampl of how th past is
shaped x the presnt & I hav 2 commnt on it (7/8/04 so 2 set th rkord str8 I nklude th follown m@rial
from ‘Jews, Lithuanians and the Holocaust’ x Alfonsas Eidintas (c ‘Vilnius (no 1)’) quoting from an
original document signed by SS-Standartenfuhrer Jaeger (30/7/10. omi10 st@sl tarjnl
dokum v tween October 6 & November 25 n & Minsk wer nklu nth rjnl
owt.) “I can state today that the goal of solving the Jewish problem in Lithuania has
been reached by EK3. There are no Jews in Lithuania anymore except the work-Jews and
their families which total: in Siauliai some 4,500; in Kovno some 15,000; in Vilna some
15,000. I intended to kill off these work-Jews and their families too, but met with the
strongest protest from the civil administration (Reich Commissar) and the Wehrmacht,
which culminated in the prohibition: these Jews and their families may not be shot dead!
¶ The goal to clear Lithuania of Jews could be achieved only thanks to the setting up of a
flying squad of tried men under SS-Obersturmfuhrer Hamann who adopted my goal
without any reservations and managed to secure the co-operation of the Lithuanian
partisans and the respective civil offices. ¶ The carrying out of such actions is first of all

47
a problem of adequate organization. The decision to systematically clear each district of
Jews required a thorough preparation of each action and an excellent knowledge of the
conditions prevailing in the district chosen. The Jews had to be collectede at one or at
several collecting points. Their number required us to select an adequate place for the
trenches, which had also to be dug out. The road of approach from the collecting points
to the trenches averaged from 4 to 5 kilometres. The Jews were driven to the place of
execution in batches of 500, the distance between the batches being no less than 2
kilometres. The difficulties and the trying work met with during these actions is best
illustrated by the following example chosen at random: ¶ In Rokiskis one had to drive
3,208 people 4.5 kilometres before they could be executed. In order to complete the
work in 24 hours one had to detach for driving or guarding more than 60 men from the
80 Lithuanian partisans available. The rest, which had to be relieved every now then, did
the work together with my men. One must bear in mind that lorries are available but
seldom. Escapes, which happened now and then, were foiled exclusively by my men at
the peril of their lives. For instance 3 men of the commando have shot dead all 38 Jews
and Communist officials who tried to escape on a woodpath near Marijampole. The
distance we had to cover while approaching the place of execution and then returning
from it in the course of each action totalled from 160 to 200 kilometres. Only clever
timing helped us to carry out 5 actions a week, and to do at the same time the current
job in Kovno without endangering the routine service. ¶ The actions in Kovno itself,
where a sufficient number of trained partisans was available, can be described as
parade shooting, especially if compared with actions in the country where the greatest
difficulties had to be overcome time and again. ¶ All commanders and men of my
commando in Kovno took part in the large-scale actions in Kovno most actively. Only one
Habitual Criminals’ Registry official was set free from taking part in the actions because
of ill health. ¶ I consider the Jewish actions to be finished for EK3 in the main.The
working Jewish men and Jewish women left alive for the time being are badly needed,
and I presume that when winter is over this Jewish labour force will still be needed badly.
I am of the opinion that it is imperative to start at once with the sterilization of the male
work-Jews to prevent propagation. If in spite of the measures taken a Jewish woman
happens to become pregnant she is to be liquidated. ¶ Alongside with the Jewish actions
one of the chief tasks of the EK3 was the revision of mostly overcrowded prisons in the
various localities and towns. In each district town the number of Lithuanians imprisoned
without the slightest legal grounds averaged 600. They had been arrested by partisans
only on a simple denunciation or the like which served to square accounts. Nobody had
ever taken the trouble to inquire into their cases. One ought to have visited the prisons
and to have stayed for a moment in the overcrowded cells which beggar any description
in sanitary respects. For instance at Jonava – which is typical of many – 16 men were
imprisoned for five weeks in a dark cellar 3 metres long, 3 metres wide and 1.65 metres
high. And all these 16 men could be set free for one could not impute anything to them.
Girls aged 13 to 16 have been imprisoned solely on the grounds that they had joined the
Communist Youth organization to be able to get any work. In this matter one had to
resort to drastic measures to drum a clear-cut direction into the heads of the appropriate
Lithuanian authorities. The prisoners were lined up in the prison yard and checked
according to lists and documents in the case. Those who had been imprisoned for minor
offences without sufficient grounds were ordered to line up in a separate group. Those
whom we sentenced to 1, to 3, and to 6 months’ imprisonment were lined up in another
group. A third group consisted of prisoners to be liquidated as criminals, Communist
officials, political instructors and other rabble. In addition to the adjudged penalty, some
prisoners, first of all Communist officials, were lashed on the spot from 10 to 40 times
according to the gravity of their offenses. After the check-up the prisoners were returned
to the cells. Those who were to be set free marched in procession to the market square
where after a short address they were set free in the presence of numerous local people.
The address was read as follows (it was translated on the spot into Lithuanian and
Russian): ¶ ‘Had we been Bolshevists wo would have shot you dead but as we are
Germans we set you at liberty.’ ¶ Then followed an admonition to abstain from all

48
political activity whatsoever, to report without delay to German officers the least
instance of a resistance movement they happened to get to know about, and to take an
active part in the rehabilitation of the country, especially by working in agriculture. But if
any one of them should commit another offense, he would be shot. Then they were set
free. ¶ It is well-nigh impossible to imagine the joy, gratitude, and enthusiasm which this
measure of ours caused each time among the prisoners set free and the population at
large. One had to use sharp words more often than not to drove off the grateful women,
children and men who with tears of joy in their eyes tried to kiss our hands and feet.”
From: William W. Mishell, Kaddish for Kovno. Life and death in a Lithuanian ghetto
1941-1945, USA Holocaust Memorial Museum Library, Chicago review Press.” Professor
Eidintas delivered a paper titled The Tragedy of Lithuanian Jews at the 2002 Lithuanian SEIMAS
Parliament special session in respectful commemoration of the 60th Anniversary of the Holocaust in
Lithuania which is reprinted in the book: “I have never prepared for such a demanding
speech, a speech about the killing of innocent Lithuanian Jews. ¶ Through centuries,
since the time of Vytautas the Great, they lived in cities and towns, raised children,
performed jobs called for by sovereigns and later did whatever was permitted by the
authorities of czarist Russia. Some of them were successful, some worked very hard to
earn their living, but they were all unanimous in trying to keep their own language, faith,
customs and unique communities with wise rabbis and teachers. They never used
alcohol or got into brawls, but, thinking about the possibly more difficult future, taught
their children. They were good people, living in peace with their neighbours, virtually
never taking offence though sometimes jostled by angry people. ¶ Lithuanian peasants
who constituted the majority of our nation a hundred years ago, knew Jews and their
merchants who used to buy and export the produce of Lithuanian farmers. Having
received the money, peasants could buy the necessary goods and pay for the tuition of
their children. ¶ Jewish tailors and craftsmen were famous in the country, and Jewish
doctors restored health to many Lithuanians. Tradesmen, being intermediaries between
farmers and the market as well as the authorities, were often called bad names and
suspected of cheating or blamed for living better than the farmers, but they did not lose
their customers with the advent and expansion of Lithuanian business and trade
institutions – the old amity did the trick and Lithuanians did not rush to Lithuanian-run
stores. In good years, trad, businesses, enterprises and workshops belonging to Jews
flourished, raising the level of the economy of the country, providing thousands of
citizens with jobs. ¶ Lithuanian Jews supported the struggle for freedom by participating
in armed struggle in the wars for independence and also by diplomatic means.
Independent Lithuania brought new hopes and guarantees – Jews were granted cultural
autonomy, possibility to plan their education, the post of Minister without portfolio for
the affairs of Jews was established, Jewish diplomats fought for the cause of Lithuania
not only in Paris, but also in other important negotiations. Education in the Hebrew and
Yiddish languages was thriving; a school for Lithuanian Jews in pre-war Lithuania became
the highest achievement of our co-citizen Jews. ¶ Though in 1924 the Ministry of the
Affairs of Jews was closed and the rights of kahals narrowed because of the
strengthening tendencies to establish the national State, Jews found living in Lithuania
better than that in the neighbouring countries where the activity of Jews was restricted.
With the growth of anti-Semitism abroad as well as in Lithuania, the affairs of Jewish
citizens in case of encroachment on property or honour were protected by the laws,
courts, and the police of the common to both nationalities State, since the Jewish
community was the most loyal to Lithuania of all national minorities. ¶ The fourth
decade of the XXth century brought anti-Semitic State policy to Europe. Very soon, the
ideas of various restrictions, denials of rights and freedoms concerning Jews flooded
Lithuania. Like representatives of other nations young Jews were seeking social and
national equality and chose the ideas of socialism, others selected Zionism, a national
movement, trying to create alias a State of Jews in Palestine, in the old Motherland of
Jews. The latter prevailed; however, the hopes of neither came true at that time.
Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, followed by the Soviet occupation in 1940, strengthened anti-
Semitic attitudes among Lithuanians. During the sovietization of the country, the Soviets

49
gave a new stimulus to a large number of young Jews providing them with the possibility
to take positions in the administration of the Party social and economic bodies; thus
giving rise to new national tensions and aggravating the old ones. Though personalizing
the regime instituted by the communists as outwardly rather Jewish, the NKVD arrested
a lot of Jews, with Lithuanian nationalists pretending not to see this, and moreover,
thousands of outstanding Jews together with thousands of prominent Lithuanians started
to be deported to Siberia in the middle of June 1941. It is evident that the tragedy of
Lithuanian Jews was determined not by false stereotypes but by the ideology of racism
and Judaism-Bolshevism brought over by the new invaders and their determination to
exterminate Jews, just for being Jews. ¶ The Holocaust in Lithuania began on the first
days of the war, as early as 24 June when Tilze Gestapo platoon began shooting Jews,
first men, in Gargzdai, two days later in Kretinga, Palanga within the radius of 25 km
along the entire German – Lithuanian border. The special operational platoon –
Einsatzkommando organized the first pogroms of Jews in Kaunas, Vilijample and on 27
June an exceptionally cruel pogrom in the centre of the city, at the garage Lietukis.
Volunteers for the execution of the pogroms came from among the members of the
Lithuanian guerilla platoons that had revolted against the Soviets, avengers, anti-
Semites, pro-Nazis and uncontrollable criminal elements. Few Jews had managed to
retreat to the East, lots of them died on the way; many could not cross the closed Soviet
border. Meanwhile, Nazis continued massacres seeking to intimidate Jews, drive them
into ghettos, isolate them, make them work like slaves, and finally destroy them. ¶
Speaking about the Nazi led Holocaust in Lithuania and other countries it is not
permissable to circumvent the role of local Nazi aids. The very first weeks of the war
showed that Lithuanian public institutions were, unfortunately, silent after the first
pogroms – the Provisional Government of Lithuania did not protect Jews, but established
a concentration camp for Jews in Kaunas, in the 7th Fort, likened them to persons hostile
to the State of Lithuania, and confirmed regulations for the status of Jews; thus denying
them the right to public life. Priests did not get clear instructions from their bishops to
help Jews. In the press and on radio anti-Semitic indoctrination (ideological
brainwashing) of the population was being conducted in which some members of the
Lithuanian intelligentsia partcipated. People wearing white bands were searching for
hiding Jews under orders or voluntarily making no distinction between Jews and
Communists. Lynch laws prevailed, and reestablished local institutions under the orders
of war commandants introduced restrictions in reference to Jews, forced them to
perform public labour and jeered at them. Unfortunately, this was not all there was to it.
¶ In the diary belonging to the former Minister of Finance of the Provisional Government
Jonas Matulionis published in Toronto in 1975 there is a horrible to hear entry which
formulates the situation of 1941: ‘Germans have imputed the shooting of Jews to
Lithuanians.’ ¶ How and why did this happen? The situation of that time being extremely
complex, many things contributed to that: Lithuanian cultural anti-Semitism perceptible
well before the war, repetitive urging by some businessmen to apply restrictions to the
businesses of Jews, to push them out of specific branches of the economy where
traditionally they used to dominate, desire to take possession of the property of the
Jews, Nazi encouragements to take anti-Semitic actions, and impunity which was thriving
because of the loss of fundamental guidelines, spiritual values and the statehood caused
by the crisis, occupations and the war. Activists and nationalists made a mistake – Nazi
Germany of 1941 could not be compared to the Germany of 1919 when it helped to stop
the expansion of Bolshevism and created preconditions to reestablish the State of
Lithuania. ¶ Lithuanian police, reestablished due to patriotic aspirations, white-band
bearers helping the police, and police battalions were considered by Nazis as an
auxiliary police force which under orders was responsible to the military and later civilian
occupational German authorities that commanded and controlled it. People began to
apply the term self-strangulation to self-governing because they had to obey all the
orders given by Ostland authorities and the so-called Gebietskommisars and assist in
robbing the country economically. The fact that the bureacratic apparatus was subjected
to implement the anti-Semitic Nazi policy aggravated the Lithuanian tragedy. County

50
governors and city burgomasters, either of their own free will or against it, issued
decrees against their co-citizen Jews, ordered them to wear the Star of David,
established ghettos in which Jews were to live until the extermination. Jews were not
allowed to walk on sidewalks, speak with Christians, and appear in public places. ¶ Mass
destruction actions were organized by the German Security Police and the SD. They
would give commands and would send small teams of shooters, trained to form punitive
functions. Mass killings were mainly executed by two sonderkommandos – the ‘Flying’
squad formed by Hamann in Kaunas and commanded by officers Norkus, Dagys and
others, and the ‘Special/Extraordinary’ detachment that functioned in the composition of
SD in Vilnius. About 100 Lithuanian collaborators served in each of them and, under the
command of SS and SD officers, pressed the triggers of their weapons in Kaunas Forts
and Paneriai and also assisted in killing 9,000 Jews brought to Lithuania from Western
Europe. Going from town to town in smaller groups these two platoons included local
police and activists wearing white-bands … Before the massacre, chiefs of rural districts
and village headmen used to provide the necessary transportation to take would-be
victims to larger towns, find people to dig and fill the trenches and organize auctions
after the massacre of the Jews to sell the property of the victims. ¶ In some places
German Nazis did not directly participate in the massacre of local Jews. As an example
may serve the bright report dated 16 September from the Governor of Sakiai district to
the Director of the Police Department Vytautas Reivytis which reads, ‘[…] from now on
there are no Jews in the district assigned to me. They were destroyed by local guerillas
and auxiliary police: 890 people in Sakiai on 13 September and 650 people in Kudirkos
Naumiestis on 16 September.’ ¶ In Lithuania Nazis did not build big concentration camps
or gas chambers in them. Here they resorted to shooting. Sadists used the butts of their
guns to kill childrenand often there were cases when babies were thrown into the
trenches alive. ¶ Rabbis had their beards cut, the most beautiful women were raped.
During the massacre of Jews in Seda, women were clubbed. ¶ The story of witness
Brunius, recorded by Secretary General of the Lithuanian Nationalist Party Zenonas
Blynas in 1941 testifies that the massacre in Rokiskis looked like – and it was
exceptional, because observers were allowed to watch it. ‘Half naked Jews had to jump
into a three-metre deep trench. They were shot at by killers walking around the trench.
Brains and blood splattered everywhere. The killers were soaked in blood. […] People
from the area came to watch. At first they laughed and smiled and were satisfied, but
later, women (Lithuanians) began screaming in horror. A slaughter, how vile. The
governor of the district is Judas. I had said that if Germans made us do it, everything had
to be done quietly, in secret and without any scandal. That degenerate did quite the
opposite.’ ¶ Who can describe and name the horror, shock and despair of the victims,
who can express the suffering of the beaten ones driven to the trenches, the moaning of
women, the screaming of babies? I say women and children because male Jews used to
be killed first, prior to women, to avoid resistance. The most terrible thing is that certain
Lithuanian citizens killed other Lithuanian citizens and that part of the murderers
thought they were killing the enemy. Through the blood and ashes of the Holocaust we
can best see the importance of the civil society and civil State. Local doctor Kaganskis
wearing the uniform of the Lithuanian Army and standing together with other Jews from
Virbalis at the trench taught the murderers of Jews a cruel lesson in civil duty by giving
the command: ‘Soldiers of Lithuania – fire upon the officer of Lithuania!’ After an
awkward pause, there was the report of guns. Lithuanians assisted Nazis with diligence
without realizing that there was no place intended for the Lithuanian nation in the Third
Reich. Nazi ideologists did not consider Lithuanians to be worthy of themselves and had
planned to Germanize one part of the nation and move the other part to the East. In
principle, our turn would have come after Jews if the war had been won by Nazi Germany
because Nazi racists had discovered that it was Lithuanians who had some racial traits of
Western Asia, consequently an admixture of Jewish blood. ¶ We sometimes take pride in
the fact that the people of Lithuania boycotted Nazi attempts to form Lithuanian SS
divisions. However there operated in the service of the Reich more than 20 self-defence
battalions of the Lithuanian Police, and some of them participated in mass killings in

51
Belarus, Ukraine and Poland where they guarded concentration camps. ¶ In the summer
and autumn of 1941 130,000 Jews were killed which was the absolute majority of the
209,000 strong Lithuanian Jewish community. The materials of the archives in Germany
and Lithuania testify that regarding figures local collaborators dominated in the
massacres in Lithuania and might have killed about 70-80,000 people – that is the
Lithuanian aspect of the Catastrophe of the Jews. The Lithuanians should know what the
Litvaks know – most of Lithuanian Jews were killed by local police forces, Lithuanians
that had become executioners, under the organization and command of German Nazis.
2-3 thousand or even more Lithuanians with executioners’ traits, not several hundred
participated in the operations. The Commission formed by the President of Lithuania to
investigate Nazi and Soviet crimes in Lithuania is trying to make horrible figures more
accurate. ¶ In the autumn of 1941 the centres of Lithuanian cities and towns made every
passer-by’s flesh creep. The unusual silence, no running children, closed shops, houses
with smashed windows and broken window-frames and nailed-down boards across the
doors told the tale of the cruel hurricane, the most real Catastrophe that had befallen
the old-time inhabitants of Lithuania – Jews. They were brutally murdered, all of them –
young and old, women and children, talented young people – quite nearby, just a few
kilometres from their living places. In this lies the essence of the Holocaust. In 1942,
under the hot spring sunshine, the thin layer of earth, covering 156 sites of the mass
massacre of Jews, caved in. Afterwards Jews were killed gradually, deported from Vilnius,
Kaunas and Siauliai ghettos until their liquidation. Figures do not reveal everything about
the loss and tragedy of Lithuania. Poet Alfonsas Nyka-Nyliunas described the state of
mind of Vilnius in 1943:

On a December night
(Bloody footprints in the pristine snow)
A little girl that has come running –
Just eyes and hair – stops
At the door of the yellowish house,
Knocks and cries:
Give me my doll back,
I am cold without it in Paneriai.

¶ Through the horrors of the war, some citizens of Lithuania sympathized with Germans,
others with Jews. Some Lithuanians contributed to the persecutions and massacres,
many condemned killings and Lithuanian aids – collaborators – and dissociated
themselves from them. Some Lithuanians were enveloped by the experienced horror,
fearing for themselves and their families and not without grounds. Unfortunately, not
many Lithuanians tried to protect and hide Jews, but today, they are our pride, our
heroes, and golden leaves of our history. We know some of the names of the heroes who
were shot together with the Jews they had been hiding – the families of Jablonskiai and
Kerzai, Vytautas Juodka, Jonas Miniotas, also those shot by Nazis: Vytautas Zakevicius,
Bronius Jocys, Vytautas Kadzevicius, Antanas Kozeniauskas, Simonas Rimkevicius, Juozas
Rutkauskas and many others for assisting the condemned were arrested, imprisoned or
maimed. Vilnius State Gaon Jews Museum has already registered approximately 3,000
saved Jews and about the same number of saviours, and this is not a complete list, since
in order to save an individual Jew, the assistance of several families was necessary. 474
citizens of Lithuania have received the highest award which has been instituted by Yad
Vashem Institute in Israel: medals of the Righteous Persons of the World. They have also
been awarded our national signs of acknowledgement – the Cross for the Saving of the
Perishing. ¶ However, part of the war time society was indifferent to the fate of the Jews.
Priest Julius Sasnauskas considered indifference to the tragedy of the Jews to be the
greatest sin of Lithuanians. Failure to see the links, common identity with our co-citizen
Jews, ‘us’ and ‘them’ division gave birth to indifference. At present we sometimes tend
to forget the Holocaust, Shoa in Hebrew. This tragic fact is not perceived as a fratricidal
war against Jews, it is being forgotten as an inconvenient fact, as the dark side of the

52
history of the nation. Attachment of significance to the history of the heroic nation
produced a situation when attempts were mad to remember but not the whole history. It
was the division of the history of the nation into that of Lithuanians and Lithuanian Jews
that drove a hardly removeable wedge into the self-consciousness of Lithuanians.
Therefore, various controversies in reference to the Holocaust arise not because of
certain stubborness or bad will, but because of the difficulty to coordinate historical evil
with the identity of the Lithuanians, with the ideals of historic memory. ¶ However, there
exists a common history. Due to the foreign rule, after 60 years, we are trying to openly
look at our history. Conferences, symposiums, articles, and research in the field of
history are devoted to this issue. At bookshops there are more and more publications
and books on this tragic topic. The title of one of the books is The Case of the Massacre
of Lithuanian Jews. It is not a legal case. It is an attempt at self-perception and at the
perception of tragedy of both Jews and Lithuanians. It is a survey of how having been
under foreign rule for 50 years, we discussed and perceived our common 1055 here and
in emigration. This is just the beginning, but it is necessary for the future. In order to
make the wound heal, it is important to bandage it, thus enabling it to get clean and
stop suppurating. However, the basis for the perfection of Man as well as the nation is
the ability to critically survey the past, detect shortcomings, wrong-doings, and
mistakes. Constant revelling in our deeds and suffering does not make us any better. ¶
Having perceived the tragedy, it is the matter of honour of the Lithuanian nation to
cherish the memory of the innocent victims, take care of the memorials to the victims of
the Holocaust in the IXth Fort in Kaunas and in Paneriai in Vilnius, make the exhibits at
the memorials understandable to the youth, and execute historical justice. However, the
memory is perpetuated only when the society realizes and perceives what losses it
suffered during the Holocaust. The history of Lithuanian Jews, cultural, social and
economic achievements of their community, their services to the development of the
country (to economy, health care, culture) still remain a blank spot in our history.
Knowledge and education can change the situation. The National Holocaust Education
Program of Lithuania, covering the widest layers of the Lithuanian society and developed
using the accumulated experience of other countries, helps develop the new generation
(high school and university students, military personnel), the entire society in the spirit
of intolerance to discrimination, xenophobia, anti-Semitism and guarantees that the
study of the Holocaust will be continued in order to overcome the shadows that it casts
and clear up the things that have long been suppressed. This would only contribute to
the development of an open, democratic society. It is impossible to restore what was
destroyed in the flames of the Holocaust, to bring back thousands of people. However,
alive remain the memory, the culture, the language, the legacy of Yiddish to Europe and
the world, and the small but active community of Lithuanian Jews together with whom
we have to cherish whatever was preserved by noble people of many nationalities
during the war. ¶ Under new challenges of history to mankind, we will strive to prevent
such things from ever reoccuring, teach the new generation to comprehend the lessons
of history, to be tolerant of those that are different, unlike us, not to serve alien gods,
and recognize evil. This is the behest of the innocent victims of the Holocaust to us, the
living.”) if Im not 2 lose kredbilty (day b4 ystrdy on th train I read a small rtcl in th papr O a claim x
the Zuroff version of th Wiesenthal orgniz8n sayng ther was a game of basktball playd in 41 btween
lithos & germn troops whch was 1 x th lithos whr th prize was th@ th mmbrs of th winnn team could
each kill 8 jews. Th claim has bn rferrd 2 th orgniz8n of xprts whch has bn set up here 2 nvstg8 such
assrtions (14/8/04. havn fnshd th Eidintas book I kan say th@ th faktual dtail is far mor dstrssn than
journlstik nvntions) & it can find no rkord of th lleged evnt but pparntly ther was a book publshd in
germn whch may b th source of th story. Mayb th purpose of reO8ng such stories is 2 keep th past
vvid but judgn x th reaktions of my ozzie friends it is kountrproduktiv & it sows dscord mong sections
of th ffectd com-mnities (but here ther is hardly any ntrst as they hav nough presnt troubls)) becoz
ccordng 2 th latest census (ccording 2 an rtcl O a kontrovcy @ th Vilnius synagog I read in nothr
papr) ther r only 4000 peopl claimn 2 b jwsh left in th O of lithol&. Morover Šiauliai was th site of th 3 rd
largest ghetto during th war whch was lmn8d completely as wer th 1s in Vilnius & Kaunas. It was from
here th@ 1 or 2 truckloads (if I remmbr th rZoWsIe ccount crrectly) of germn troops rrived 2 suprvise

53
& xkute th mas-skr of 2nd october 1941 in Žagarė (16/8/04. c top left of covr map).) an island of
Polish (16/8/04. aŠlUb-RiNnAas (husb& of eŠlUvRyNrAa hoo knew my fathr as a young man & hoo
tells me whn I was a youth I had promsd 2 nclude her in my writn) fathr of Pete 2 hoom I gave my last
2 ‘pieces’ on sundy @ litho haus (Errol st, Nth Melb) tells me th@ litho/polsh nobel laure8 Czeslaw
Milosz (Česlovas Milašius (b 1910)) close relo of Oskar Milosz (Oskaras Milašius (1877-1939))
died day b4 ystrdy (ie 14/8 (c my piece ‘14/8/41’ 4 th mportnce of th d8))), Russian and Jewish
cultures. Today we still live on that crossroad. We realise that we are on the left and on
the right, we are Žemaitija and Aukštaitija. We are Lithu-ania, a small part of it and we
take an active part in its life and development. Living on a crossroad is very dynamic,
full of tension and dangers but nevertheless, it is interesting and exciting. (U can say th@
again!) HISTORY. The present city name is traced to the word “šaulys” (the shot) (I think
they meant šaulys – a marksman). People say that in the old days, the surrounding woods
were abundant with wild beasts and birds, therefore the hunters and the shots’ (mayb
shootrs) settlement on the bank of the lake was called Šiauliai. (paragraph) First historical
sources which mention the name of Šiauliai described the march of the Sword-bearers
(later the order of Livonia) and the 1236 battle of Saulė. The Victory of the Lithuanians
and their allies in this battle is a very important event in the history of the state of
Lithuania. In the 15th – 18th centuries Šiauliai became an important economic and
administration center of Northern and Western Lithuania. Trade roads connected Šiauliai
with Riga and Klaipeda, and the famous Hanse Trade League points on the coast of the
Baltic Sea. (paragraph) Many ideas of 19th –20th century culture and democracy were born
in the circles of Šiauliai intelligensia. Later their members took part in creating the
independent state of Lithuania. (paragraph) The wars of the 20th century almost wiped
Šiauliai from the surface. The present appearance reflects postwar (1946-1990)
buildings. Only the architectural monument of the 17thcentury St Peter and Paul
Cathedral still recalls the past as well as the town streets reconstructed in the classical
style … It is a town with the youngest University in Lithuania, a town of singing and
musical traditions (but Iv only heard nglsh pop so far just as in Kaunas) CULTURE. Culture is a
way of life. Theatre lovers are welcome to the Šiauliai Drama Theatre. The
entertainment center “MAX”, and the entertainment club “MEGA” are always ready to
entertain their visitors. Original country music club “Juone pastogė” will help you to relax
in a country style club interior…” What they also fail to mntion is th@ th soviet style blocks of
units (like Melbournes housn commssion but with balknies whr washn is hung out) in whch 80% of
lokals liv r very bleak while th 20% hoo stole (peopl keep telln me) th wealth left ovr frm th dsntgr8ion
of th soviet mpire r buildng mprssiv homes in mor sulubrious s. How they kornrd th best spots on
lake & rivr is 2 long a story 2 tell here. (Ncdntlly I 4got 2 mntion a story I read in Kaunas O a man in
his 80s hoo livs on th streets bcoz th hous he had livd in since th war was rclaimd x th 4mr ownr
(such houses com 2gethr wth their long term 1O ) hoo turfd him → .) …. Spent th day strolln

aimlssly O th city: vsitd th gain, but wasnt able 2 get → th rthodox 1 whch was dsspointn as I was
very mprssd wth th 1 in Kaunas. Walkd O th 4 a bettr look & gain noted how many visitrs ther r &
saw womn 10dng flowrs or just sittn quietly x sites. W@chd a rugby m@ch on an θ in th park in
whch a childrns evnt was also takng place. Walkd along 1 side of th main lake on th city edge & thrgh
th 4st th@ bordrs it. I m findn all th parks & 4sts very @raktiv & full of birds possbly bcoz th grass is
not mown as it is in ═ 1s in Melbourn. 4 th 3rd ccasion on th trip I bcame tearful & 1ce gain I provide
an @mpt @ an xplan8n. I was havin lunch of cepelinai (only 4 Lt here; evrythn is cheapr than in
Kaunas) washd down wth ½ litr of a terrfik brew calld Kunigaikščiu (russet colourd wth a sour edge 2
th taste @ 3 Lt) & th being playd was aktually sntmntl (šlageris) litho pop 4 a change wth words
like “noriu, noriu būt turtingas ir mylėti ir turėti daug draugū / o aš tik noriu, noriu būt
turtingas …” ir taip toliau (I want, I want 2 b rich & 2 lov & hav lots of friends / all I want, I want is 2 b
rich …etc. etc.) & “man gerai kad aš šiandien bagus ir laimingas žmogus / o rytoi tegul griūva
dangus …” (its OK 4 me 2day coz Im a rich & happy man / & 2morrow 4 all I care th sky can fall in
…). This was @ an ordnry eatry @ th markt whch I could spend pages dscribin but I wont @mpt th
task bcoz it dservs a bettr writr than me. @ th ntry @ th nd of th passage wer th heavies (u should c
th way they muscl up & they r huge) selln what wer probbly drugs & as I listnd 2 song aftr song I
realized they all had th same theme & it ccurd 2 me I was listnn 2 th real muzik of th peopl
54
(LIAUDĖS) unrel8d eithr 2 th nglsh pop in th bars along th main st or 4 th@ m@r 2 th so calld folk
I heard in Vilnius whr they dress up in th silly clothes & whch I myslf used 2 sing. I suspekt my
git8n was nfluencd x th fakt th@ from 1 of th wndows on th 7 th floor of my hotel towr I hav a view of th
rem& prisn wher a 1000 men r nkarcer8d ½ naked & wth only a few  mtrs/man says Juozas. If I
hadnt bn told I would nevr hav suspektd it as th buildn is quite small. U kannot go thrgh th systm
wthout bkumn brutalizd says Juozas as th tradtional krimnl kode & hierarch systm whch has lways bn
here (& in SIBERIA) prvails nside. Then they let thm out th door wthout th slghtst rehab or hope of a
job & no altrntiv but 2 feed thmslvs x crime as is th case wth a signfk sektion of th hopeless & poor
hoo hav had 2 leav th rural s 4 th city. No 1dr u cant walk O @ nght & as a rch 4reignr I feel a sens
of threat. Som of th 2rsts from th litho commnity in Melbourn & Sydney should spend a bit of time in
th markts of rgional towns such as Šiauliai nstead of just th senamiesčiai of Kaunas & Vilnius. A guy
hoo did time in a US jail told Juozas th konditions wer so good x komprison u wantd 2 stay in longr.
Its 7.06 & th long slow evenn whch is such a feature (dark @ 11.00) & so dffernt 2 oz is O 2 bgin &
Im → 4 a meal & a glass of Kunigaikščiu (or 2 or 3)…. 9.45. hav com back wth a bottl of Čepkeliu
trauktine & a bottl of Kvietinis. Juozas woulnt pprove. 8 lėtiniai wth suriu & kumpis @ th café I had →
wthout payin. Im known ther now. It was full of germn 2rsts (11/8/04. aktually I think they wer th
belgian NATO troops cellbr8n th@ they wer leavn town) probbly bookd in2 ths hotl as ther is a bus
out front. I hav learnt 2 rkognize anglo (11/8/04. walloon? & note th freudian slip) features. They wer
rlaxd talkn loud, legs spread kumfy eatn great food 4 lmost nothn. I felt a surg of disgust & melncholy.
1 or 2 bus loads of rich krauts had such an mpact on th street yet 1000 lockd up men wthn a stones
throw wer nvisbl 2 thm. & they will nevr know evn if they keep comn back of10 4 th free food. How
many things r nvisbl likewise 2 all of us? I felt soldarity wth th wkward (guys in track suit type gear but
in Kaunas theyv swtchd 2 dnm) lithos → street tryin 2 look modrn from what they c on telly. Saw lots
mor young womn h& in h& & evn 2 mixd couples (4som) all h& in h&: sure sgn they wasnt krauts but
I can pick th diffrnce anyway now coz the germns look just like aussies. Saw a showy bird in a side
street, a Šarka (Pica pica) whch is like a large willie wagtail (13/8/04. they r bcomn much rarer in
rcent yrs). Saw th brown husky-like dog (u can pay 1000 Lt @ th markt 4 a good dog says Juozas)
wth th BLUE tongue I had cn ystrdy. This was from th Gubernia tent in th middl of th mall whr I woz
drinkn a glass (1/2 ltr) of Kunigaikščiu. Th favorit beer here is Švyturys bcoz it wins prizes & is sold 2
th yanx but its just like any othr beer. Mayb I should put in a short note on konomik m@rs. Vaidas
took me 2 c th rmains of a BAJORO (boyar) sst8 whn I was @ their vienkemis. The O stablishmnt
ccupies ks & was left 2 ruin (11/8/04. cept 4 th main buildn whch mght hav bn used as th kolhoz
office) in th soviet days & is byond rpair not th@ it would b evn x th currnt govt. Ther is nothn like it in
ozziel& & if ntakt it would b a great 2rst @raktion & pay its way many times ovr. I xplaind 2 him
(11/8/04. bein a traind konomist !) th@ wealth doesnt rside primarly in th skill or dligence of peopl (not
th@ lithos r eithr) nor in their kr8vness but in what is ccumul8d & konsrvd ovr time & th kommos
dstroyd (4 they could hav preservd & used it if they had known how) all this. A k away u could c large
struktures whch had bn storage sheds or somthn 4 th kolhoz whch had rplaced th BAJORO holdns. It
2 was drelikt & had bn dsmantld x pilfrers. Ther used 2 b magnifc windmills in thes s x rivrs th@
wer in perfkt nick till rc ly though nused & they 2 r byond rpair, wreckd 4 their m@rials. 2 sets of
ccumul8ns of wealth (ie produkts of work) hav bn dstroyd (1 x th soviets & 1 x thos hoo rplaced thm)
ovr a period of 60 years. It will take a long time 2 rkovr from th@ & in spite of all th konfd mong
th thievs in Vilnius they probbly nevr will. But they 1nt evn know it in Vilnius coz theyll b beezee wth
euro poltiks & 1nt com out 2 places like this. Im drunk. Good night.
13/6/04 (Vilnius 1 (no 47)). Th dskussion wth th Thompsons (The Old Post Office /
Shoreham / Sevenoaks / Kent TN14 7SG / Tel: 01959 523690 / Mobile 077100085168) was triggrd x
his kommnt th@ th treatmnt of iraqi priznrs x th yanks woz th kind of thing th@ goes on in all wars. I
take partklar xeption 2 this widely held view. Brtsh priznrs in th 2nd war rturnd from germny wthout
stories of bein SODOMIZED & havn dogs set on thm & x thn Dresden & Hamburg had bn bombd ↓
rubbl. Th bhaviour in iraq (legitmized evn b4 w → ther x Guantanamo & th rhetorik of US & our own
polticians & journos) was don x young kids on 50,000 or mor US $s/year & brought up on kream puffs
& telly wthout any xperience of th terribl 4ces & terrors th@ wer nleashd on all in much of europ (&
esp eastn europ) whr lives hung x a thread. Th shock 4 me of our treatmnt of iraqi priznrs kums
bkoz of HOW LITTLE it has takn 2 nleash th worst in us & th knowledge th@ th final prtxt th@
w wer goin in ther (wth ovrwhelmn 4ces & hardly any risk 2 ourslvs) 4 humntarian reazns woz

55
lways a sham & TH WHOLE ARAB WORLD KNOWS IT. & it is bvious 2 me w r no longr hoo w wer
& whn th nxt KATAKLISM kums it will b far wors than th evnts of th 2 nd war. Th@ was th strt of our
konvrs8n & I note th pleasure I felt @ bein abl 2 speak fluently & wth nuance wth sophstik8d nglsh
peopl ftr only speakn litho 4 severl weeks evn though very1 knocks up telln me how good my litho
(28/8/04. You’re starting to sound like a broken record – that’s the THIRD time (28/8/04. Its bkoz Im goin
in Os!) you’ve said it – helh&z) is. As I was tryin 2 get a nap in th rvo a koupl of young guys (an
austrian studyin politkl science & a dutch kid doin arktekture, both in Riga 4 a smstr) (th poles evdntly
had not liked th kkomod8n) ntrduced thmslvs & w mmdi8ly got on & I kast myslf in th role of lokal xprt
& wantd 2 show thm how what u c here is a vneer 4 th 2rsts whch hides a komplx & hiddn othr side
so I took thm → s & thn ↓ 1 of th cellrs whch turnd out 2 b a BORDELLO (23/8/04. but I m not a
good judge havn nvr bn in 1 & it may hav bn a kavinė dun up in th style of a seraglio) but w rsistd th
very pproachbl young lady @ th bar & drank our beer @ leisure & partd kumpny wth her & th
stablshmt amkably. Then w → th Tiffany Pub whr u hav 2 take your jackt off 2 go ↓ th cellrs & I took
thm thrgh th rooms ther 2. I kame home @ 2am & took 5 mgs of valium 2 make sure I went strght 2
sleep whch I did till 8.30am. They r nxious I show thm th prizn/muzeum & th tortur cells bkoz I had bn
makin th point th@ th dffrnce btween th kute littl olde worlde bars @ street levl & th maze of cellr
rooms down th narrow stairways is a meta4 4 th O kuntry & helps xplain why as 4gnrs they r findn it
so dffkult 2 make ntm8 kontakt wth th lokals in Riga (whr they find th same as I did in Kaunas) quite
nlike us 3 westnrs hoo wer abl 2 b mmd8ly opn wth each othr dspite th age gap btween me & thm. I
xplaind th@ th dead r much mor recnt here whr th nd of th 2 nd war was only th start of nothr sekrt war
of rsistance x th partzans (30/8/04. ystrdy Alek lent me a CD titld ‘Partisans of Vilna (The Songs of
World War II Jewish Resistance)’. Th songs wer riginly heard in th 1986 doco film drektd & editd x
Josh Waletzky & prduced x Aviva Kempner 4 th Ciesla Found8n. © 1989 Flying Fish Records, inc.
1304 W. Shubert, Chicago, IL60614. FF70450. Here r som of th kkumpnyin notes 2 th CD dskribn a
dffrnt partizan movmnt 2 th 1 rmmmbrd in th prizn/muzeum I took thm 2: “Introduction : This is
an album of songs that were created and sung by members of the Jewish underground of
Vilna during World War II./ This organized armed Jewish resistance against the Nazis is
an ever inspiring history of young people who refused to accept defeat. The songs
express the profound grief and rage, the ordinary longings, the pride in military exploits,
the romance of heroism, but most of all the inextinguishable defiance that animated the
young fighters. In particular, they relate to events and circumstances that arose in the
Vilna Ghetto and nearby forests of White Russia and Lithuania. But they are also a
universal expression of Jewish resistance that sprouted in the ghettos and forests and
camps all over Eastern Europe. / These songs are presented in Yiddish by performers
who are dedicated to the ongoing work of fashioning cultural continuity with the
murdered world of Yiddish-speaking Jews. / The members of the resistance recorded
their defiance in deeds and also in the songs they wrote and sang. And they hoped that
the dawn would come in time to break the Kingdom of Night. / “But if the sun and the
dawn are late in coming / may this song go from generation to generation like a
password.” – “Never Say” (band 12). Pre-war Background : The decades before World
War II saw a flowering of Jewish secular life in Eastern Europe – a profusion of
movements that advocated revolutionary visions of a Jewish future, “free” of traditional
religious observance. Political ideologies, such as socialism, Zionism and folkism, played
a prominent role in a wide range of popular organizations – political parties, unions,
professional associations, schools, summer camps, clinics, academies, theatre groups,
and so on. Religious observance was no longer a mandatory element of Jewish identity.
Vilna, known as the “Jerusalem of Lithuania,” continued to be a major centre of
traditional Jewish learning. In the “New Age” it also became a prestigious focus of
secular Jewish culture. / The Jewish armed underground was predominantly a response
to the Nazi onslaught by the secular Jewish world, in particular the political youth move-
ments. This orientation, which was revolutionary in spirit and cosmopolitan in outlook, is
reflected in the songs. We hear it in the remarkable reference to the American novel
‘The Last of the Mohicans’, in ‘Jew, You Partisan’ (band 4). We hear it in the phrase “our
new, free generation” in ‘Never Say’ (band 12). “New” and “free” which rhyme in
Yiddish (nay and fray) were a favourite pair of words to describe the visionary future, the
secular messianic era. There is even an allusion to the variety of competing

56
organizations in ‘By One, Two, Threes’ (band 9): “Everyone in the land strode so
cheerfully, / each separately on his own way.” / The melody to this song was taken from
a song by Hans Eisler, current among German Socialists – a sign perhaps that ideological
connotations could still be stronger than national ones. Certainly it was ideological faith
(for many) that combined with profound national pride to help sustain the spirit of the
Jewish fighters. Ghetto Culture : Vilna was in the eastern part of Poland at the outbreak
of the war, so in the early part of the war it fell under Soviet domination. During a brief
interlude of Lithuanian independence, thousands of Jews fled the Nazi rule of western
Poland and stopped in Vilna. The city became a Jewish refugee centre, particularly for
political activists. / Nazi Germany invaded Soviet occupied (east-ern) Poland in June
1941. The mass murder of Jews began immediately on the heels of the invasion. In Vilna
by the end of 1941 when the mass murders were suspended, some 60,000 Jews had
been shot into mass graves near the nearby village of Ponar. The name “Ponar” became
a synonym for death. It is referred to in ‘It Was a Summer Day’ (band 1), and ‘Hush,
Hush, Hush’ (band 7). The remaining 20,000 Jews continued to exist in a tiny sealed
ghetto. The luckier ones were marched out to forced labour sites and back each day. /
During 1942 and 1943 (the ghetto was liquidated in September 1943), the Jewish
survivors tried to recreate the rich network of communal institutions (eg. soup kitchen,
orphanage) adapted to ghetto conditions. / The cultural life of the Vilna Ghetto
developed in this period of relative stability and included a library, theatre, concerts,
choruses, cafes, lectures, schools, and sports. From the beginning, there were
ambivalent feelings about the purpose and appropriateness of cultural pursuits in the
shadow of mass murder. The ghetto theatre opened to placards of protest – “We don’t
play theatre on a cemet-ery” – and the officially sanctioned activities, which could be
and were attended by Germans certainly contained an element of pacifying the ghetto
population. But in time even the elements of escapism became generally accepted as
part of a response to normal communal needs in abnormal times. The ghetto library
loaned out over 100,000 books, largely lighter reading, but also books related to the
predicament of the ghetto Jews ( like the very popular ‘40 Days of Musa Dagh’, which
describes the Armenian massacres and resistance in World War I). In another respect,
the cultural life in the ghetto was a defence of the spiritual dimension of a community
whose body and soul were threatened with extinction. Witness the celebration honouring
the important Yiddish poet, Yehoash, known for his Yiddish translation of the Bible. / The
songs of this album came to life in the social context of the educational, cultural, and
political institutions of the ghetto, including, of course, the secret institution of the
armed underground.…. ‘Under Your White Stars’ (band 3) was first performed in the
Ghetto Youth Club, which was an important source for recruiting younger members into
the underground groups. The ghetto administration instituted poetry and music
contests. The winning musical entry subsequently had words set to it – ‘Hush, Hush’
(band 7) – and became popular in the ghetto. It was performed by one of the several
choruses (Slep’s Chorus) of the ghetto. …. ‘Never Say’ became the official anthem of the
major underground organization … the FPO (Fareynikte Partizaner Organizatsye –
‘United Partisan Organization’). In the Rudniki forest, the Jewish partisan units (under
Soviet command) sang ‘Never Say’ each morning at reveille. Around the campfire at
night, the Yiddish folk and theatre songs of a destroyed home mixed with Yiddish and
Russian partisan songs, such as ‘Dugout’ (band 8). … “We sang / Song united our souls,
elevated our feelings, / And steeled our muscles.” The Melodies : A man who joined the
FPO as a teenager in the summer of 1943 recalled over 40 years later how uplifting, how
spiritually attractive, the singing was. He remarked that the FPO members were singing
“Russian songs already with Yiddish words.” Indeed it was common to take an existing
melody and fit new words to it. Sometimes there was an ironic twist as in ‘By One, Two,
Threes’ (band 9), where the march refrain is presented 3 different ways – the prewar
march of youthful idealism, the death march under the Nazis, and the “different rhythm”
of a freedom march. The popular Yiddish theatre song, ‘Papirosn’ (‘Cigarettes’) provided
the tune for Rikle Glezer’s ‘It Was a Summer Day’ (band 1). / The strong Russian flavour
of the melodies is not surprising in Vilna where Russian music was popular with the older

57
generation and which had just lived through 2 years of Soviet domination before the
Nazi invasion. / Even the prize winning melody by the 11 year-old Alexander Wolkowycki
was characterized by the composer as being in the Russian style, when he was
interviewed for the film. / On the other hand, if we look at the “Soviet Russian”
melodies, we can also find a Jewish element. For example, the one song sung in Russian
on the album, ‘Dugout’ (band 8), was composed by Konstantin Listov, a Soviet Jew of a
musical family, which had organized the first balalaika orchestra in Russia in pre-
Revolutionary times. His father, who played the bass balalaika, wrote gypsy romantic
ballads.) gainst the soviet sekurty organs … I @ndd various chrch services but stayd longst @ th
Sksč. Dievo Motinos cerkve near x. Nlike Wittgenstein Im abl 2 bend my knee & 2 say lord but th
lmost konstnt bowin (oftn touchn th gO), chantn (whch I found beautful so I stayd a long time), th
makin of th sign of † skors of times was 4gn 2 me & I was not abl 2 particip8 thgh it is evdnt 2 me
th@ it may well b a mor ccur8 xprssion of th way our sepr8 idnties konnkt in2 a largr bein than othr
repetitiv aktions I pr4m in my daily life such as my mornn koffee & ppr, turnn on th telly, brushn hair or
teeth, or my rtual strolln thrgh th city etc. etc. I wldnt want 2 praktice habits of bown & scrapn 2 what r
ftr all rdnary peopl (bserv klosely) deckd out in fanciful (a lot of gold) gear specially since it may
nkourage thm 2 get swolln heads. Th service @ th small chapl I @ndd & took th nskription from
ystrdy mprssd me mor wth its mphasis on silences (th priest had 2 evikt a tour group 1 of hoom walkd
up th middl aisl 2 take a flash shot of th altr) & @mpt 2 b rdnary & modrn (he left havn put on his rathr
macho jackt & th girl wth guitar doin th singn lookd like any uni studnt wth jeans & tightly fittn top).
Howvr Im mindful th@ in a city of so many houses of prayr th@ somtimes they st& side x side not all
th chrchs & cerkvės of Vilnius kombind wer abl 2 save (or mayb evn help) th 70,000 jws hoo ndd up
in th ghetto 2 b murdrd. Like th cellrs & s their story is part of th hiddn side of Vilnius but I will not
keep harpn on it as I m not th ppropr8 persn 2 do it. It is best told x th srvivors & mayb it is not possbl
4 its meann 2 b konveyd anymor xept x silences. Th sun has finally kum out (1.25) & Im goin out gain
(th 2 studnts ddnt get back till 4am last nght & havnt srfaced) …
20/6/04 (Vilnius (no 2) (no 48)). IT WILL NOT WORK. (nip). 8.45 am …. 8 breakfst
@ th sual place. W@chd th sual girl rrangin th chairs & tabls undr th Coca Cola PICA awnn of
PICERIA DaANTONIO/PIZZA ITALIANA (DiaCnAdSrTeRaO (hoo iz in Roma rght now I sppose),
LfOrVaEnCkE & me should hav lunch here 1 day) @ 20 Pilies g. It woz drizzln. Th floks of 2rsts lookd
dzml ndr their mbrellas. In th wndow on th 2nd (1st) floor a yng womn woz watrn a plant kuvrd in deep
blue flwrs hangn in her wndow. Flowrs r mportnt in lithol&. BUT THERE IS NO HOPE I heard meslf
think. I woz gettn rrt8d x a yng merikan in stupid lookn baggy mt8n street pants telln his dotin
audience of lithos of all th places hed bn 2 (& it woz verywhr) & how many euros it kost & whch woz
th best rout & how he twstd his ankl x 3. His happy loud $ voice filld th O room whr I (& sum uthrs)
had kum 2 b medit@v 2 quiet (nglsh & frnch) muzik. & he duz this very year in many kafes I thght so I
tor off a piece of ppr (from Lietuvos Rytas @ 3.5 Lt whch I had bght earlier & realized 2 l8 woz th
same az ystrdys) & printd in red ink (wth th fountain pen givn 2 me x DiaCnAdSrTeRaO whch he got
from th St8 Libary of Victoria in Melbourne) th words ULTIMATE BORE & rolld it up in2 a littl ball. Ftr
payn me bill az I walkd past their tabl I threw th littl ball → their tabl but it bounced off & past th yank
& ↓ floor. Th tabl went silent. Az he woz reachn ↓ undr 2 search 4 it I woz walkn out th rstront door 2
write this ntry & get my mbrella. (nip). I m goin 2 th frnchmns suprmrkt whr u kant uze th toilt (nip) 2 x
nuthr flask of Čepkeliu & t mayb 2 th st8 libary of Vilnius 4 a PISS. I lso hav th +rss of an old lady
hoo used 2 b in charge of th main hosptl of Vilnius in soviet days & hoom I showd O a bit of oz & evn
took 2 WHITE CLIFFS (c ‘29/4/04 – 1/5/04’ pp2 -10) (I KAN HEAR TH YANK (I hav both doors opn)
TALKN IN TH PASSAGE – they r bookd in2 1 of th rooms here!) years & years ago. (JEZUS IM
GLAD I DDNT KOP HIM in room 204). I got th +rss whn KABArIaLsAaITĖ (hoos 15 year old son has
bn seriously dpressd & hoo specializes in teachn kids (& lektrn O what kind of teachrs they need) hoo
r nabl 2 find (or prhaps ther is 0) a place in th . Whn w kame back (sh lso has offrd 2 take my
dskardd books off my h&s & cheapr kkomod8n if I need & 2 show me th ČIGONU TABORAS & th
peopl hoo liv on th main rubbsh dump (9/9/04 I wuz glad sh ddnt follow thrgh wth thes whn I ← in th
last week of my stay in lithol& (c ‘Vilnius → Melbourne’) az it would hav put me → th pozition of a
voyeur) of Vilnius) past my lodgins O 11.30 I ddnt nvite her → drop in (koz of Hs rights of xcluzivty
whch I kannot guarntee but m kontraktd 2 & I do not knownly (while in possssion of full faktualties) or
prmedt8ly nnul) (27/7/O4 – thank you for your carefully legalistic declaration of fidelity. Be careful you
don’t hit your head crawling through the loopholes – helenz) & w went → a sumwhat wkwrd partn @ a

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taksi. Her mum (still lektrn in geolgy though in her 70s) haz nvited me 4 t @ 6 on mondy whr Ill lso
meet Rasas bruthr Algis. Their fathr Vytenis is my mums yngst bruthr & I 1ce took him → BROKEN
HILL in NSW whr h tried 2 † a floodd kreek wth his passprt in his pockt koz he had bn told x his bruthr
he woz xpektd in Sydney a day earlier than need b & all this woz still in th soviet era. Vytenis like
many of my relos lekturd in mathm@iks. He died whn he broke thrgh ice on a lake in home from
his SODYBA.) kame O @ 6 pm az/greemnt so w kould go out 4 t (whch w did @ th KAVINE x th
Vilnia whr th st@ue of th mrmaid iz. But Rasa ddnt feel like eatn & only drank wine while I 8 & drank
& w talkd & I feel w wer klose (but from so dffrnt Os). W talkd mostly O her suns dffkulties (& my
xprience of uthr ZONAS) & greed it woz ssntial 2 b honst in thes stu8ns but sh sed 1 st u hav 2 b abl 2
b honst wth yourslf (az if sh wer dvided → 2)) & I mght knock on her door if Im in th  ftr I get th
Čepkeliu trauktine. Yes it is drizzln outside & th prdiktion 4 2morrow iz 4 all day all ovr …. I did
kall in nxpektdly on ŠVlEaIiSmTaYTĖ az sh woz ntrtainn 3 uthr ladies 1 of hoom woz her sstr. They
treatd me like royalty thgh I kould tell (I dont think they would bjekt 2 me sayn) mmedi@ly from their
body lnguage etc they wer mmbrs of th old NOMENKLATURA. Laimas sstr in partiklar 1td 2 hear me
say what I thght of (& l grls etc etc) like ozzies sumtimes ask YANKS & they say how 1drful oz
iz but Im not like a yank & I say it az I c it whch sh found a challnge az if it m@rs a what a yank
sez O oz or an ozzie hoo haz bn here only a few weeks O . I 8 dlicious ROMA (rum in litho)
icekream & I rkommnd it 2 DiaCnAdSrTeRaO hoo is in ROMA. Laima & sstr offrd 2 show me & 2 let
me uze their pparntly magnifcent lakeside SODYBA in th kuntry. I sed mayb nxt year if Im here wth
H. They all lookd in good health & I had th mprssion peopl of their vintage dont do any bettr in
Melbourn. Laimas unit iz wthn mnutes walk of Gedimino pr. I m ntrn a few notes I put in my littl book
earlier wthout bothrn 2 polsh thm up: whn I got back ystrdy nght @ 12.30 ftr a beer ftr leavn Rasa @
th taxi th lady hoo kries & 2 hoom I gave me ppr woz still @ her post; az I woz leavn this mornn th
guy in charge (Bronius) told me O a norwegian hoo woz bookd here hoo slept all day every day aftr
kumn in Oly ROOTED each mornn (but I bet hed just gon out 4 brekky); l8r I sed 2 him Vilnius kould
bkum th kaptal (EUROPOS SOSTINĖ) of europ (9/9/04. Vaidas rekns I wldnt say so if Id bn 2
Amsterdam – it kldnt evr happn here he sez) 4 such m@rs; think O it this way: if in Šiauliai (mor here
or in Kaunas & esp in Klaipeda whch is th centr of th service ndustry (an eazy 2 learn skill)) th charge
is 100 Lt ie 1 weeks wages its quivalnt 2 chargin $1000 in ozziel&. Hoo kould rzist?; I skd myslf th ?
what kan lithos do well & all I found wer rtsts (eg RUeDgIiNdSiKuAsS; & 2 yng grls buskn wth rkordr
(trills, nrgy & mprviz8ns wer bettr than nythn Iv heard in Melbourn) & th uthr wth flute (very wistful &
dark)), kottage food ndustry whch wll b wiped out x th suprmrkts (th ladies say MAXI & MINI chain r
litho ownd & xp&n → pol& etc), & th KAVINĖS whch r groovy but sum of th best opn air 1s hav 2
klose down in wintr (but boy thos cellrs kould b bumpn & grindn); th rl8n of th old rch st8s
whch r th ownrs of kkumul8d KAPITAL 2 th new poor EU mmbrs iz simlar 2 th rl8n th
RISTOKRACY (& their kontnuin ownr & kontrol has bn nshrined in laws they hav made 4
th purpose) used 2 hav 2 th peasnts (providers of work, service ndustry, LYTINES
PASLAUGAS) hoom they ownd; th lokl NEW RICH kaptlists dont know how 2 +ministr kapitl – only
how 2 make kavines. They got rch x bein quick 2 grab what woz left of soviet st8 assets & dont hav th
kind of skills kkumul8d in th west ovr genr8ns. They (very1 duz sez Rasa) liv 4 th momnt koz it may
not last (they r rght); europ will not nvst in lithol& xpt in 2rsm. Bettr 2 nvst in asia whr 4 400 Lt/munth
peopl will work hardr, quickr, smartr, & will steal less & kant go off as eazly 2 work in europ 4 mor; th
womn bringn up kids & workn x thmslvs koz their husb&s hav left dzerv evry pportunity they get 4
male LYTINES PASLAUGAS & mayb (I 1dr) they mght prfr th style of 4rgnrs (UŽSENIEČIAI) 2 th@
of th guys hoo left thm; went 2 th libery gain 4 a PISS but it woz klosed; an old womn I gave cents 2
ystrdy sor me kumn & smiled & thankd me 4 0.05 Lt. It is mazin how dartngly their eys spot u puttin
your h& ↓ your pockt from a dstance & th trmor whch they kannot dsguize whch runs thrgh their body
4 a pttance – must make th rch feel great ; bkoz parnts hav workd so hard 2 pull their kids thrgh th
kids help their parnts in rturn but ther r sgns of a new genr8n kumn hoo may not; th kr hoo
stole th peopls wealth flaunt thmslvs (drivin thrgh puddls 2 splash uthrs) b4 th poor in grotesque
mit8n of what they think is westrn sofstk8n whch they get from 2rst trips (like mine) & w@chn telly; I
m fueld x lokohol & lack of sleep yet Im not xpriencin th loss of =ibrium & special type of ntnsity I get
whn Im short of sleep in Melbourn. Mayb th real i iz not shortage of sleep but bein in synk wth nght
(dark) & day (lght) ie th Oadian rhythms & th days r long now. Th long nghts of wntr kould lead 2
dprssion. Th@s strght from th HORSES MOUTH. (9.50 pm) …. LfOrVaEnCkE & DiaCnAdSrTeRaO

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will b pleazd 2 know I spent a very l@n day. I went 2 a ritzy talian place kalld VALENTINO/PIZZA
ITALIANA RESTORANAS whr whn I skd 4 fried bread wth garlk (ČESNAKAS) they sed they ddnt
hav any & gave me pizza sticks nstead. So I bought a dideli beer (dideli = 0.5 ltr, maža = 0.3 ltr, litra
= 1 ltr) & it kost 8 Lt, x 2 th norml price (but @ least they wer abl 2 change a 200 Lt note). Abov th bar
wer th words: REPETITA IUVANT so I skd thm what it meant & they sed they ddnt know koz they
wernt real talians. L8r I fnishd off @ a nuthr bar klose 2 home whr I w@chd portugal beat spain 1-0
as I d k nuthr dideli wth a pl8ful of fried rye bread wth ČESNAKAS. Arriverdeči.
27/6/04 (→ (no 1) (no 49)). (8.20 am) Its rainn. Vaidas iz makn t. Brigita (hoo iz ntrstd
in th medkal prprties of plants & haz bn feedn us superbly (šaltibarsčiai (litho borscht), nettl soup, all
kinds of t nkludin red t & t made from juodū serbentu (black kurrnt) leavs etc etc) az if it woz our male
prrog@v 2 b waitd on (but I offrd 2 wash th dishs & sh kcptd) h& & foot) & Migle havnt surfced yet
(ncidntlly Brigita iz O K8s age & xtremly f ent & nergetik in verythn sh duz) but I c Vaidas has
prpared a 3rd kup of koffee so sh must hav. Th gO iz soggy & Im 1drn if well make it out ovr O a k of
meadow → road. I feel like a mmbr of th famly koz last nght (Im takin 2 mor charkoal pills 1drn what
iz th r8 of stumak cancers mung lithos) w uzed th PIRTI (sauna) down x th rivr 150 yrds way. Its a big
trdition but not az big az in finl& they tell me. Th PIRTIS here woz made from a metl box seald so az
2 b airtght wth an iron stove set in cemnt wth rocks in it, & th nside lined wth wood wth a bench 2 sit
on & a bench. Vaidas lit it up @ O 9.30 pm az th rain woz gettn heavier. Then w s@ O ndr th
kanopy near th haus whr wev bn livn & eatn (uzin th haus only 2 sleep) while waitn 4 it 2 heat up. W
finshd off th Čepkeliu trauktine & th Trejos Devynerios (999) (wthout help from Brigita hoo iz a
vegtarian) & it woz soldly th O time & Vaidas went back 2 th PIRTI in bare feet (he sually iz) wth
wood 2 stoke th stove. 2wards 11.00 w made our mov. W ndrssd in th haus koz thr woz nowhr 2 leav
th klothes x th rvr outside th PIRTI bkoz of th & wrapt in towls skamprd → windin track (Brigita fell
down th steep bit but sh iz yng & kouldnt kare) 2 th PIRTI whch woz HOT (yes, I think th brits &
merikns in IRAQ kould konsidr th tekneek klaimn it 2 b 4 kleanliness or dlousn (ie 4 their own good &
wthn th permssbl O set x ntrn@nl law) – just put th heat up a littl mor but not much mor koz itd kill
thm) & w lit littl kandls nside & I sor th@ Brigita woz wearn a BIKINI but me, Vaidas & Miglė wer IN
THE NUDDY. Then th TORTURE startd az Vaidas kept splashn watr from a tub → th heatd stones ↓
whch th stove woz set. Then it woz suddnly much, much hottr & I rmindd thm th@ in th transports 2
SIBERIA it woz th old hoo died 1st but Vaidas nly splashd mor watr → stones az I woz measurin my
xakt dstnce 2 th door (evn thgh th PIRTIS iz tiny) in kase th kandls went out & I had 2 skrambl → dark
b4 suffk8n. But I ndured & soon woz sweatn like a koz I sweat a lot evn n@cherly. How long did it
take? I dont know but just whn I thght I KOULDNT TAKE IT ANYMOR w rushd out & jumpt → th
freezn watr of th Šašuola rivr (xpt it ddnt feel kold @ all koz w wer so super-heatd) 2 wash th sweat
off & thn w stood O in th steady 2 get (kan hear Tony Mushroom talkn 2 his hors – hes probbly
workn th soil) our breath back & kool down a bit b4 w dun it all ovr gain 2 MOR TIMES (me & Vaidas
lso dun sum back xrcizes whr u sit on a log raizd a foot off th gO & stick your toes ndr nuthr log @ gO
lvl & wth h&s klaspd bhind your neck do sit backs) b4 troopn back → windin track (muddy from mole
diggn & I fell ovr x 2) thrgh still heavier → haus whr w got drssd & me & Vaidas drank a 50 each
of KVIETINĖ DEGTINĖ (vodka firewatr) & he lit th KROSNIS whch heats up a good part of th haus &
thr is a sektion whr u kan lie on top of it if u 1t 2 roast (my fathr sez they wer st&rd in village hauses).
Th PROCEDURE had takn O an hour & I SURVIVED & felt evn pretty good ftrwds & slept well (s@ in
frunt of th opn KROSNIS 4 ½ hour x myslf b4 hittn th sack @ 1.30 or so) but m not sure yet if my guts
hav bn kured. (Brigita haz made nuthr koffee (milk from Milda) & Vaidas haz kum ovr from his
mowin). Whthr nythn iz kured or th skin pors get opnd & kleand out I dont know (thgh th placibo &
Hawthorne ffekt iz 4 sure) but in a tiny pirti like this it sure is NTM8 & 4 bettr or 4 worse I m a mmbr of
th famly now … (10.30. has stoppd; Brigita is winchn watr from th well; Vaidas haz gon back 2
mowin wth th LITOVKA) …. AŠ ŠIENAVOJAU (Iv bn mowin & peeln off 1 item of klothin fter nuthr. U
get in2 a rhythm. It dont mean a thing if it aint got th@ swing - & mayb Iv got it koz volution may hav
favourd th dvelpmnt of a partklular phyzkl type mung th male popl8n of th vllages (Brigita haz just
made me a very strong MĖTA (mint from th yard) t whch sh reckns kures verythn – sh haz lots of
curealls - & an mlett & sausage & lettuce leaf on top of th breakfst I had b4 ŠIENAVOJAU) & now thr
is nuthn 4 thos muskls (& knuklheads) & a lot of em r drinkn thmslvs 2 death or mbcilty in th
VIENKIEMIAI, in th KAIMAI, & th SODYBOS sk@rd † th kuntryside (typkl sght (bsides th womn

60
karryin 2 buckts of milk balnced on a stick † th shldrs (Vaidas nearly splashd 1 az w drove past ystrdy
evnn whn him, me & Miglė wer goin n 2 a 4st whch iz gettn trashd x vllagers dumpn their new
plastk rubbsh & x llegl kuttn)) iz a guy restn hiz LITOVKA on th gO on th h&l while he iz sharpnn th
blade wth th whetstone a ŠIENAUTOJAS lwayz karries in his pockt az he works) (sip). (kan hear th
on th chmny klackn its beak) (sip) …. KAI ŠIENAUJI (whn u iz mowin) u kan get ticks whch r
dangerous az they kan karry a virus th@ gets → head (ncephalitis but th mozzies (they wer HELL in
SIBIRAS) here whch r plenful & bitin dont karry it) & O 70 die/year & plenty uthrs r left b dmaged
so sed sum1 sed Brigita. Meanwhile my gettn th bug has migr8d → my stumak (I now karry
tssues in a pockt (many pockts in my trouzrs 4 wallt & passprts (zip up) etc, but not thos silly 1s on th
side of th legs) & whn w wer n in th gloom & I uzed thm very quickly 4 th greensh treakl I staind
th floor of th 4st (3/10/04. its only since Iv been back in Melbourne that it has occurred to me I
may have been here before if this forest is the same one which is called Pivonijos šilas. I was
looking at the map I used for the cover of the ‘Šiauliai’ piece wondering why the name of the
forest marked just to the south west of Ukmergė had a familiar ring when it dawned on me
that there are 3 photos of my mum in our family album taken in a forest of that name at a
critical moment of our family history. A few weeks ago she reminded me over the phone of a
dream she had in the forest which she still remembers vividly. It is certain I carry a trace of it
as she was 7 months pregnant with me at the time. It was in June 1941. I assume it is the
forest referred to in the Encyclopedia Judaica entry on Ukmergė in the last sentence (c
‘Šiauliai’ p10) where it says “On Sept. 18 1941, the Jews remaining in Ukmerge, together
with those of the neighbouring towns, were assembled in the nearby forest and
massacred.” The cover map of my ‘Šiauliai’ piece is a summary of where the jews of lithuania
were murdered so I suppose the name of the forest was given because it is the site of the four
‘aktionen’ by the Joachim (‘Yaweh prepares’) Hamann Rollkommando mentioned in ‘Jews,
Lithuanians and the Holocaust’ by Alfonsas Eidintas (c ‘Vilnius (no.1)’ p4). In the dream my
mum, a strong swimmer, was swimming across the Nemunas (c cover map of ‘Melbourne →
Kaunas’) river with my father (a poor swimmer) & as she was nearing the opposite bank she
looked back and saw he was being swept downstream by the current and wouldnt make it.
Thats where the dream was ended by the sound of knocking on the door of the dacha deep in
the forest called Pivonijos šilas where they were staying at the time. The dacha belonged to the
base where my father was stationed in the same forest. Of the week or so that they were there
they (I did too!) had spent several days and nights hiding out in the open in the forest itself
(fortunately it was summer and didnt ) during the 3 or so days that people were being
rounded up for the first deportation to Siberia. The purpose of the knocking on the door was
to order my father back to the base for immediate evacuation eastwards into Russia as
OPERATION BARBAROSSA, the German attack on the Soviet Union, had been launched
during the night a few hours earlier. This took place in the last week of the first Russian
occupation of Lithuania in 1940-41. My mother noticed my father shove some items of civilian
clothing into his army sausage bag. Later at the base he gained valuable hours when he
convinced his ‘shadow’ (the POLITRUK assigned to him) he needed to find a small truck to
carry the photographic equipment he was in charge of as it was too valuable to leave behind.
During these hours Andrius Staugaitis (brother of the father of Arūnas Staugaitis (deceased
husband of Bronia (says to save myself the cost of mailing (Dennis Spiteri (the opening of whose
studio is on November 7) said the identical thing) my pieces to her unless I revert to writing in
standard english but whose daughter Gabba remains on my mailing list) who was the dentist who put
in the porcelain crown in my left lower jaw which when it finally fell apart was replaced by Doctor
Walker in Ivanhoe with the gold one I have now over the original post he had put in. Over the last
weeks the new crown has been aching (& I had a couple of abcesses either side) and tomorrow
(9/10/04 but am going on Monday 11/10/04 (11/10/04. rmovd th rginal post & new (1 yr) gold krown &
glued up O th krak in th roots & put in a new xtra post & rturnd rginal post & krown & I m washn me
mouth wth Listerene & takn Flagyl (Metronidazole) tablts whch means NO LOKOHOL 4 a O week.
Thursdy 14/10/04 hell chek how its gon)) Im going to make an appointment to find out whats going
on.)) who had been the best man at my parents wedding a year earlier in Šiauliai (me mum
duznt know how 2 kkount 4 th fakt sh rmmbrs sh got married in th St Peter & Paul kathdrl (c ‘Šiauliai’
p5) but her weddn certfk8 whch sh got in germny whn sh had no persnl dokos sez sh woz married in

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a chrch kalld St George whch shes nevr heard of) tried to talk him into a scheme to commandeer
their evacuation truck, eject the driver, and drive back west in the direction of the approaching
germans. My father considered the proposal seriously but in the end decided to slip away into
the forest by himself (2/8/10. t c Thursday 9/7/09). Those who went east into Russia were
never heard of again. Andrius Staugaitis and his mates did commandeer their truck but the
germans arrested them and sent them to Stutthoff Concentration Camp (10/10/04. this was not
corroborated by a close relative of Andrius I talked to in the kitchen of litho house today who
contributed an unrelated snippet of information however which I found interesting which is that
Andrius was in love with my mum at the time) as Soviet P.O.Ws. Andrius survived the camp but
died soon after release. I am lucky to be here to tell the story because I was there when it
happened.) wth & it may b not all th MĖTA or th charkoal (u get rid of th 2 get ) in iz
gunna fix it nless I stop eatn mletts & drinkn milk frsh from th & drinkn lhokol & eatn f@y meats
on rye bread 4 my 1st breakfst but stop eatn verythn & nly drnkn watr 4 24-36 hours whch iz th methd
Id mploy in Melbourn & whch if I dont mploy here it may take a week 4 my systm 2 kill th bug (probbly
got it whn I 8 a breakfst of strwbrrys (rottn fast koz of th humidty az hav th stackd stooks of hay 4
wintr feed 4 th & but I bet th sprmrkt shelvs will b full az sual & STUFF th peaznts)
whn I rrived x bus in Ukmergė I reckn koz Brigita sed so & u lwayz hav 2 wash thm 1st sh sed) if evr.
…. Sor a Mažas Erelis (a small aras (eagle) whch iz lso th meann of my name ARŪNAS (th Arūnas I
met in Kaunas hooz dghtr iz a violnst (c ‘Melbourne → Kaunas’ p3) woz ntrstd in hoo wer th 1st 1s koz
he iz 1 of thm & now it haz bkum a very kommn name & he has found a kupl of thm a bit oldr than
him but I m a O year oldr so I pushd him back x 1(3/10/04. I had 4gottn O STAaUrGūAnIaTsIS hoo
woz @ least 3 yrs oldr than me) so th@ Arūnas = Erelis) Reksnys (Aquila pomarina) …. →
Ukmergė → Siesikai → Žeimei → Deltuva → Kaunas. Its 10.55 pm. (nip) (nip).
4/7/04. Th praktice of givn each uthr small gifts on 1st meetn or whn u meet ftr a long
bsence iz huge in lithol& & Iv bn tryin hard 2 rzist it. Ftr Eduardas, me, & a very kind friend of hiz hoo
duz a lot of fxit work O th place fnshd th bottl of Čepkeliu I had brght (wth nly a littl help from Vitalia)
nuthr friend of Eduardas lready nly partially kohernt rrived. & then left & kame back wth a bottl of
Trejos Devynerios (999). L8r he left & kame back wth a prznt of 2 pieces of what he kalld kolourd
ambr. Thes r a fusion of diffrnt kolourd glass whch he makes 2 look like a kind of JEWEL 2 b placed
gainst a wndow so they c@ch th lght. I dtektd th@ he woz a bit sprized x my lack of bvious
nthuziazm but I woznt goin 2 xplain th w8 prolbm I hav wth my suitkase & th@ glass whch lso haz 2 b
prtektd from sh@rn iz th vry worst thing 2 giv me. I m knfuzed x th praktice & bein a spoilt ozzie thr iz
0 I want 2 b givn uthr than peopls kumpny. I meslf, of kourse, giv way my writtn pieces all th time
whthr peopl want thm or not. I m leavn a kopy of ‘clocks ticked on’ (2/8/10. 4sal th www.amazon
@ $US96) & n mpty ½ bottl of Čepkeliu (6/10/04. l8r I dskuvrd I had lso n+vrtntly left my plastk piss
bottl(7/10/04 what a great memento of your visit for them to find after a few hot months!
– helh&z) ) & a uzed biro partially hiddn in th kabn & givn Vitalia a booklt of fotografs of beetls kalld
‘LIVING JEWELS’. Iv just noticed th booklt sh gave me x eJdOuNaUrŠdAaSs iz mainly O hiz
xpriences in th soviet rmy & th 5 years he spent in th GULAG in SIBIRAS on th AMUR pninsula. Ill
don8 it 2 th litho liberry in Errol st. North Melbourne whn I get back. It will giv me sumthn 2 read on th
plane(s). Eduardas iz used 2 a lot of success & @10shn havn bn nvolvd in many dffrnt folk rt prjekts.
He xpresss opinions 4cefully & iz dm&n. He iz lso heavy. In australia it would b bvious th@ he rquird
24 hour kare in a nursn home thgh I dont think he would kcept it bein used 2 much bettr & mor patient
kare. He oftn sez he wants 2 die. Me & H would nevr b abl 2 kcept Vitalias offr 4 us 2 uze this beaut
kabn whch woz built (az woz th haus) x Eduardas bkoz w would worry he mght feel nsultd x us failn 2
pay nuff @10shn 2 him. Im packn up my gear & sayn my good xs & givn th booklt O JEWELS 2
Vitalia b4 sh leavs @ 10 4 a konfrnce wth sum hgh germn ffcial no doubt in konnktion wth th TOMO
MANNO festvl whch sh runs & whch bgins nxt s@dy. Thn Im takin my suitkase & leavn it on th boat
az greed (it kame in ystrdy) wth th kaptn & spendn th mornn 1drn O b4 dn @ 1.30 4 th trip 2
Kaunas ….4 brekky I had Blyneliai su vištiena ir grybais ie pfannkuchen mit Geflϋgel und Pilzen
4 8 Lt & Salotos,, Pavasaris “(švieži pomidorai, agurkai, saldūs pipirai, salotos, salotu padažas) ie.
Salat,, Pavasaris” (Frϋhling) (Tomaten, Gurken, Salat, süBe Pfeffer, SalatsoBe (& mayb u hav 2
worry (& b kareful of) O peopl hoo uze so many Kapitals)) 4 7 Lt & Balta kava ie WeiBer Kaffee 4 3
Lt @ th KAVINE,, PAŠIŪRĖ” servd x waitrses in tautiniais (tauta: nation) rūbais (germns like denm

62
partklarly 2 piece (jackt & daks) kowboy style outfts (but lso sports n gear wth stripes x 2 on
pants legs) whch litho guys, spcially in Kaunas mit8 but litho guys lso wear kamflage rmy daks or
vests whch 4 germns is verboten. I got all this 2 a bckgO of piped Simon & Garfunkel (they r
mountn a xbition of kitch paintns @chd 2 posts stuck ↓ th watrs of th Curonian c out front th wndow of
th 4shor pub I m writin (& will b n) in az I drnk a mažas of dark Baltika beer. Earlier @ their home,
b4 leavn 2 say thanks 2 th germn dignitry 4 havn givn 10,000 (marks? Euros? Lts?) 2wds th TOMO
MANNO festvl (& takn away her sundy), Vitalia gave me a series of 6 kommrcial style postkards on a
gintaras (amber) theme x Eduardas Jonušas (Dailininkas/Maler/Artist) titld: 1) Baltijos burtai /
Baltisches Zaubern / Charms of the Baltic; 2) Viršužmaršties / Über der Unster blichkeit / Beyond
the oblivion; 3) Jūratė ir Kastytis / Jūratė und Kastytis / Jūratė and Kastytis; 4) Gelmiu šviesa /
Licht der Tiefe / The depth light; 5) Vetrungiu paradas / Parade von Wetter-fahnen / Weather-vane
parade; 6) Saulė bangose / Sonne auf den Wellen / Sun in the waves). B4 I leav on th boat (whr th
kaptn sed (ftr I told him my great line (nuthr great 1 I uze iz 2 say “I m a naïv australian talkn 2 u
softk8d lithos” whch no1 haz yet known how 2 reakt 2 ie it stops thm doptn a set (in konkrete) role
2wds me) th@ I m here ftr 60 yrs not nly in lithol& but in EUROPA & its lmost true xept th@ I woz 9
whn w left Napoli DP kamp 4 oz) I kan sit wth him in th frunt 4 a great view if I want) I hav 2 hav a
& post th postkards I writ ystrdy…. X th way my hav rturnd 2 their norml BABY kolor
nstead of th weird GREEN they wer whn I had th fektion & nuthr thing I 4got 2 mntion iz th@ @ th
POILSIO NAMAI I washd me SOCKS (red & purpl) & UNDRPANTS wth dish washn lquid thinkn it
woz lquid soap much 2 th musemnt of Brigita & it workd….
11/7/04 (→ (no 2) (no 50)). 8.20. I m 1st up (Vaidas has just srfced & drawn my
@ntion 2 th dead mole Mirta (th dog blongn 2 th Mushrooms) must hav caught durin th nght). Th
storks r clappn their beaks. Iv just bn 2 th IŠVIETE (outside hole-in-th-floor toilt u hav in th kuntry vs
th flush TUALĖTAS of th city) & guess what – my is GRASS GREEN. (coffee is pourd (ovr gOs)
& waitn 2 settl) Th@ must hav bn th strawbrries again whch I ddnt wash bcoz th guy selln thm said
they eat thm wthout washn & they r grown just on straw (Edita hoo is a farmcist said its th fertlizr what
does it & 2 lways wash thm) but I dont feel sick. (Edita has srfced) I m rportn it 4 th nfom8n of
dDaOvIiGd & jWoAhLnL hoo mght hav 2 cure me whn I m back in Melbourne. Th famly wth 2 boys
(1had a pet chinchilla) left ystrdy evnn aftr th parnts finshd in th PIRTI (sauna) & only Saulius, Edita &
Kristina stayd ovrnght. I was ntrstd 2 hear Saulius talk O his 2 yrs of nationl service (in times)
whch he did in th far north mostly in th Archanglsk region of arktik USSR. Apart from th xtrordnry
beauty of th nvirnmnt his mmries r bad. They learnt nothn whch kontributd 2 chraktr dvlpmnt xept a
“steely rsolv” 2 maintain prsnl dignty in th face of brutliz8n. While w wer talkn Ilona (nikname Laila),
husb& Andrius & their 5 young kids all very close in age 2 each othr turnd up in their van. Andrius is a
thin, stoopd wiry yng fellow hoo smokd all of Vaido cigretts & I thght was a very sharp & ntllgnt persn.
Whn he & his friends work in norway they work 1000 hours/3 month work visa & com back wth
22,000 Lt each. Here he hires labour 4 th strawbrries @ 10 Lt/day. All th gun workrs of his age r ovrcs
he said but he wants 2 make a go of it here & I reckn hell succeed. Hardly any of th SODYBAS in th
 r ownd x rginl lokls & verythn is dslok8d. He thinks it may b a good thng th DVARAS is in th h&s of
an dividual evn thgh he got it 4 prktkly 0 bcoz othrwise it would b pilfrd & dmolshd (x legal/llegal
kumpnys) till 0 woz left like nearly evrythn els th st8 rtaind has bn. (I m buzzd x a larg bumblb) &
guess what! they bght their SODYBA from ŽjIoŽnYaSs but he is not my fathrs brothr hoo is long
dead. This ŽjIoŽnYaSs specializes in buyin a place, doin it up & selln. He had bght theirs b4 doin it
up 4 a cost he had rpaid x selln th 1st crop of appls he got. W talkd O th huntn praktices wher orgnizd
groups wth beatrs r shootn verythn th@ moves sometimes 4 th benfit of 2rsts llegally. Most wild
nimals r lready gon. I told thm how w tried 2 x a SKILANDIS (he says its a MIESČIONIŠKAS word 4
KINDZIUKAS) & th big news is they hav sevrl don 4 thm in th propr KAIMO (of th kaimas) style x an
xprt & theyv tstd 1 & its real good so I said w would b ovr 2day 2 x 1. (just had a bowl of MĖLYNĖS
(pickd x Edita in th Ignalina region) in milk wth sugr whch Edita reckns I should eat heaps of while I m
here coz they r full of vitmns & mnrls (23/8/04 – and radioactive too perhaps. That should make your
trips to th toilet a glowing experience. Helh&z.) & r good 4 (lithos r lways talkn like this & sayin how
natrl their foods r kmprd 2 othr kuntries) me eyes). He says th typkl coupl in Ukmergė knssts of a wife
hoo works @ a kmmrcial knittn machine & a husb& hoo harvsts timbr @ O x 3 th r8 whch was lready
knsdrd in soviet days 2 b ovr th sustainbl limt. His brothr has 1 of th knittn/sewin faktries in Ukmergė

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but dosnt lock th womn up 2 work thrgh th nght 2 fulfil a quota like som do. Nyway th kontrakt klothes
mn-fctrs r shiftn out → bielorus & urkraina wher husb&s send out th wives (& mothrs & babas) 2 work
4 evn less. (th baby wer clackn their beaks as a parnt bird flew away from th nst aftr feedn thm). I
m gunna hav a s& . Then me & Vaidas mght → drive (he reckns (till th vstors r gon I reckn)) →
Kaunas & ← & then x th KINDZIUKAS. DA PAŠOL T NACHUI (rus slang in litho fonetik)….
18/7/04. 8.55 (Siaulius is doin his mornn xrcizes (in gstures, build & + @tudes he rminds
me nnkannily of HrAoRgReOrP); V has gon down 2 th lake his toothbrush stikn out of his mouth; if it
wernt 4 2 year old Augustė wed still b in bed) Yair, I like it: AŠ ESU APAŠTALAS NEŽINOJIMO. Iv
bn sayn it in various dsguises 4 a long time. Thr iz a rlgious gravty 2 it & a kontra tion az if u r
sayn thr iz a rule th@ thr r no rules. & AŠ ŽINAU (I know (havn it both ways since if u make th rules u
kan break em)) th@ MODERNITY will DESTROY verythn I kould hav kum 2 value O lithol&. Th
nkomprably beautful 4sts whch evry litho will tell u holds a cntrl place in his magin8n & evn th
kommnst era faild 2 dstroy r bein TRASHD. Saulius, hoo mnages a kumpny whch +vizes th govt
(gets ntrviewd on telly etc.) on best EU praktices 4 wast dspozl, seems hardly 2 hav noticed. So 1ce
gain I m seein vvidly what th lokls, ovrwhlmd x O-sale changes do not c or r nnabl 2 orgnize their
rsponses 2. Oh yes, ystrdys soup turnd out dlicious & I 8 3 pl8fulls. I sggstd 2 Vaidas th@ when w get
back 2 oz w kontinue th praktice. Saulius, V & me r off 2 do som n …. Drove 2 Meironys som 20ks
way (4 or 5 ks from Ignalina) past nnumrabl lakes sOd x 4sts. Passd many 2sts & hikrs wth back-
paks on a day whch @ last feels like summr (I m wearn shorts, short sleav shirt & s&ls). Mtied th watr
from th rowboat (blongn 2 Saulius fathr-in-law) moord in th clear stream whch runs thrgh th townshp
& V rowd (motr boats r bannd) ↑stream → lake DRINGYKŠTĖ whch is only O 1½ ks long but u can
get big fsh in it as all th lakes r joind & th 2 on eithr side r real big 1s. 1 of thm bkums th lake w r nxt 2.
Th sOn kuntry is ndoubtdly th most scenik Iv cn in lithol&. V got stuck in2 th rown & w droppt ankr @
1 nd of th lake in O 3 metrs of watr. Th u can c@ch r: LYDEKA (→ 20kg), EŠERYS (redfin) (→
5kg), KARŠIS ((c ‘→ (no 1)’) → 5kg), LYNAS (→ 5kg), RAUDĖ (all w8s givn x V r lways 20 or 5 kg),
KUOJA, KARPĖ (carp (16/10 whch V has just learnd 2 c@ch in quantty here (w may b goin n on

mundy))) & UNGURYS ( ). W thrw out balls of burly & d wth worms usin teleskopik
rods. W drank a ½ ltr stubby of warm beer each. W ddnt get a nibbl & shiftd position. Ftr O 3 hours V
rowd ← & → th stream ↓kurrnt past yllow & white watr lillies & a mute & a kid hoo said he had
caught a . M goin 4 a dip in th lake…...
25/7/04 (Vilnius → Melbourne (no 51)). 8.30am. Th name of th muzikian wth
DUENDE (c ‘Vilnius (no 2)’ p10 &12 & ‘→ (no 2)’ p2) iz ŠAjLuArKiIjN. He woz prvntd from playn in th
street in frunt of 1 bar but @ nuthr 1 w s@ down @ th same tabl & he playd 4 me. He rfuzed my offr
of a beer bkoz a medkl kndition duznt llow him 2 drnk lhokol. He spoke s ient litho & nglsh 2 nswr
my ?s but wth uthrz (prtklary 2 sum st peopl) he spoke in rus. Hiz fathr had bn an gneer & his muthr a
dktor. Sh woz pregnnt wth him whn they left india whr they had bn based & he woz born in
Magnitogorsk (URAL) & whn he woz 4 they went 2 liv in Grozny (ČEČĖNIA) whr he grew up & learnt
th guitar & taught it @ kollge lvl. In 1989 he kame 2 lithol& & workd in th oil rfinery in Mažeikei 4 4½
yrs b4 kumn → Vilnius. (az he woz playn a teenage st kid kame 2 th nxt tabl & skd 4 muny then knelt
↓ & beggd mplornly puttn on such an akt th@ 4 hamn it up it left Melbourne heroin +ikts 4 dead. He
ddnt sukceed & got up & left brushn th dust off hiz trouzrs. Th peopl @ th tabl kouldnt help larfn). He
uzed 2 hav a mnager hoo rranged hiz bookns but he fell out wth him bkoz he ddnt want him 2 busk in
th street. Now he iz x himslf. He ddnt want 2 kcept I woz 63 & kept rmarkn how yng I lookd (ftr I had
rfrrd 2 him az a yng persn) whch konsdrn th way I feel woz quite a komplmnt (2/8/10. t lrrt s@rd r
vk8td r  t nr t 4mi!). It goez wthout sayn (but I do since I hav sed uthrwize) hez not a pruvian
or knnektd wth th pruvians playn th &ean pipes in Kaunas. He iz here lgally but kant leav 2 → urop
koz he iz st8lss az hiz pprs r out of ordr & it would kost 2 much 2 get thm fixd up. Hiz muthr iz still live
in russia whr he vzitd her & hiz aunts 2½ yrs ago. Uthrwize he iz wthout famly, wife, or chldrn. He
lookd ill. He iz 40. I gave hm 20 Lt. I had lost a pprtunity 4 a good sleep az I had no nghbrs in 202.
Mayb Ill mnage 2nght. I m goin out 2 get a fone kard & will O Taurius 2 tell him I wont b ready b4
10am 2mrrow & th@ I hav 2 b back no l8r than 6 …. Kouldnt get thrgh → Taurius but got thrgh →
Vaidas & knfirmd our rrangemnts. Brigita will pik us up in Melbourne. Took 14 or so fotos of Žydu g.,
Stikliu g., & Gaono g., & of th site in Židu g. whr Elija ben Shlomo Zalman used 2 liv.

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DRUaMlMeOcND mght b ntrstd. 8 breakfst @ th place opp th Piceria Da Antonio Pizza ITALIANA
whr I had got in2 th habt of eatn whn I woz in Vilnius b4. Bought nuthr roll of film & uzed it up in no
time. What do u fotograf whn verythn iz new & strange? Went 2 Rimas & Birute Jonaitis place opp th
beautful cerkvė † th rvr (Neris) @ th nd of Gedimino prspekt. Saulius (Rimo bruthr) & Katerina
Jonaitis wer lso thr. 1ce gain I woz xllntly lookd ftr & 1ce gain I m left wth n4m8n whch iz not eazy 2
dgest. I want 2 let it settl 4 while & I need 2 nwind so Im goin 2 sit in a kavine ovr a jug of beer ….
Listnd 2 spansh klasskl guitrs playd not vry well. Woz thinkn how Id bn eatn didžkukuliai on streets of
mizry (so rcently) whr 2rsts wer throngn & peopl woz larfn. An ntire cvliz8n (chldrn, wize men, singrs,
pretty wmn) haz bn dstroyd & it means 0 2 peopl. @ th Jonaitises I found out ŽYGIMANTAS
AUGUSTAS had kkumpnied (on foot or on ?) BARBARA RADVILAITĖS koffn (th great of hiz
life but sh died early) 2 AUŠROS VARTAI. Th pik of th vrgin mary is sed 2 hav mrklous powrs (Ill test
it out) & iz 1 of th 4 (thr r many uthr mirkl piks in lithol&) whch haz bn krownd x th pope (ie made
ffcial). Th krown woz stoln. All th ♥s in th metl wall sOn it r tributes from peopl hoo hav bn kured of
llnsss. It iz polsh peopl in prtklr hoo bliev in all thez things & 1c thr used 2 b fist fghts ovr ownr
btween litho miks & polsh miks. 1ce gain Iv bn wantn 2 kry (I had thght it woz a passn phase (1 st few
weeks whn I had bn dsorientd & vrwrought)). Pparntly b4 they wer burnt up in th synagog th 1 st jews
of Ukmergė 2 b mrdrd wer killd in Paneriai (1/11. Ponar. c ‘Vilnius (no 1)’ p 8) (I think its what woz
sed but I woznt listnn (1/11 our wer †d)). 70% of th peopl of Ukmergė wer jwsh & I kould hav
eazly left 4 Melbourne wthout knowin it & th@ th Ukmergė I had wovn → my maginry pikture of my
fathrs yth had no rl8n 2 how it had bn. If I kan hav a pikture whch iz so rmoved (I wept ovr it) from
how it woz iz thr a reazn 2 hold on2 any uthr pikture I hav nheritd of th past? Why hav I valued
thez ‘mmries’? But mor xtrordnry iz th@ I hav nevr bn givn th slghtst hint (nor durin my stay in th
dstrkt wth Vaidas though both of our fathrs & gr&fathrs r lokls) of th massv krime whch woz kmmittd
here. Sum1 must b held kkountabl (30/10. I think th fault lies wth hstry itslf & th purposes 2 whch w
put it. Here iz nuthr ssay from ‘Meditation on Lake Gairdner’ – TIME: “If there were no time we
would live for ever. Lovers wouldn't make trysts.There would be no seasons. No being
born and no dying. The helmet would not have been beaten into a ploughshare. There
would be no tides and no footprints in the sand. Lovers wouldn't hurry. The laughter of
children would hang in the still air. We would not hesitate. We would not waste it. The
last train would not leave the station. The last post would sound for ever. There would
be no waking ... the dreamer would dream on. Sins could not be forgiven. The
murderer's knife that flashed in the moonlight would be frozen in the fist. Treacheries
would remain. Love would not be quenched. Desire would not be fulfilled. The banquet
would go on. All the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together
again for ever and ever. The singer would repeat the same song. There would be no
compound interest. Inflation would be zero. The end wouldn't be in the beginning, but
then again it would. There would be no consequences. No regrets. Flowers wouldn't
fade. No cause and effect. The sins of the fathers would not be visited on their children.
Liars would not prosper. School kids would not be let out. All would be lost. I'd get some
sleep. You would never have to ask when but you might keep saying why? why? why? E
would not equal MC squared. Memory would be unnecessary. History would repeat itself.
Nothing would matter. There was a man in Sydney who spent his whole life writing
ETERNITY on subway walls. Time to quit. No exit. No sex. No making love all night long.
No deja vu. No time on. Never. Time's up. END. Alphabet soup. On time.”) 4 th violence don
2 kredblty. Or mayb I hav lwayz known in uthr wayz & I should b thankful a mor ntm8 kind of nrtikul8d
knowin haz prtektd me from bkumn a persn hoo blievz eazly (5/11. “The phrases that men hear
or repeat continually end by becoming convictions and ossify the organs of intelligence.”
- Goethe). I hav bn karryin 2 much bggage whch iznt my own. I m goin home 2 Melbourne lightr. I will
not mince words: th largest lies r lwayz prptr8d x omission. Bkoz they r nvizbl u kannot dfend yourslf
gainst thm bkoz u kannt find thm xpt x tuch. My O iz made from nvizbl struktures & I must learn 2
ngoti8 a way thrgh. Like Tarkovskis ‘Stalker’ it may b I hav mthods. Or mayb I m Olly lost. But I hav
lwayz bn & I m used 2 it. Rlyin on tuch!
1/8/04. 5.52am. Headn → Wagga Wagga. Dstance ← dparture 6972 ks. Time
2dstn8n 0.32 mns. Ltitude 10,972 m. GO speed 922ks/hr. Lokl time @ orgin 4.00am …. Fastn
seat belts → Melbourne. (30/10. I think its ppropr8 2 nd (6/11. I thank th typst & point out I kanot say

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az tWhOoLmFaEs did “I can always find plenty of women to sleep with, but the kind of
woman who is really hard for me to find is a typist who can read my writing”.) off wth a
song I heard @ The Make It Up Club on tuesdy 26/1/01. Sum1 had put it on btween sets & I dont
know whr its from. Part from th 1st & last verses th words r mine: O & O & O w → (x 3) / It wont b long
(x 2) // ↑ & ↓ & O O / ← & → w all → O / O & O & O w → / It wont b long (x2) // This way th@ way ↑ w
fly / Swingn ↓ & swingn ↑ / ↑ & ↑ then ↓ & ↓ / It wont b long (x 2) // Silvr Os & goldn Os / Thrgh starry
sky on shinin wings / O & O & O w → / It wont b long (x 2) // O & O & O w → (x 3) / It wont b long (x
2). If u want 2 hear th mlody Ill sing it 4 u & here it iz in rdnry nglsh 4 thoz hoo r vzually challnged:

Round & round & round we go (x 3)

It wont be long (x 2)

Up & down & round about

In & out we all go round
Round & round & round we go
It wont be long (x 2)

This way that way up we

Swinging low & swinging high
Up & up then down & down
It wont be long (x 2)

Silver wheels & golden

Through starry sky on shining wings
Round & round & round we go
It wont be long (x 2)

Round & round & round we go (x 3)

It wont be long (x 2)

(31/7/10. Completion of days from folder 5 (nos 42 – 51 of Og))

5/12/04 (30/11/04 – 9/12/04 (no 52)). A bit 2 th sth → th road 2 Port Lincoln thr iz a
turnoff → Louth Bay (5/1. c F x 8/9 on kuvr map). Got torkn 2 a 70 yr old guy hoo uzed 2 own
Popiltah Lake st8n in th ana-branch of the Darling  → east of th Mildura → Broken Hill (4/1. I nklude
nuthr (c ‘29/4/04 – 1/5/04’ p3-10) xrpt from my faction ‘IN TRANSIT’ bkoz it iz set in this kind of
kuntry: “He stood up. He had almost dozed off but the chill in the air would not let him go to sleep.
Through the branches of the black box trees (eucalyptus largiflorens) he could see slabs of black sky
with thousands of brilliant stars embedded in it. The moon sat low in the west, dawn was only a
couple of hours away. In the distance the coals from what had been a bonfire earlier that night now
glowed a deep orange. In front and almost on top of them, it seemed to him from where he stood, lay
a body. It was Shaky, fast asleep: he could tell by the snoring. Beyond the coals loomed the dark
expanse of lignum, intersected with innumerable pig trails, which held the channels, swamps and
billabongs of the Paroo. In one of these channels lay two drum nets that had been placed
strategically next to submerged logs. Ropes from the drums trailed to the shore. They had been set
there earlier that night and by morning each would contain four or five hefty yellowbellies. Beer cans
and stubbies gleamed in the moonlight. ¶ They had come here earlier after a full day’s preparation in
the pub, in two cars and a utility piled high with decrepit spring mattresses scrounged from
abandoned dugouts. Bringing the mattresses was one of those useless traditions whose origins were
lost in antiquity. They were hardly ever used. If for any reason a mattress was unloaded it was never
taken back but left lying on the ground to be swept away and sometimes deposited high in the fork of
a tree by the next flood. It meant that the number of mattresses in White Cliffs had to be decreasing,
but each fishing expedition they were able to find more. Their other provisions consisted of
innumerable rifles which like the mattresses were also largely decorative, about seven dozen cans
and stubbies of beer, the two drum nets and most important of all, a four gallon drum with a wire

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handle and a roll of chicken wire several yards long with a strip of netting along each edge. The
chicken wire, an invention of Old Jock, was for catching the yabbies. Two men could lower it into a
couple of feet of water. The yabbies would come to feed on the pieces of meat tied to it with string.
Ten minutes later the netting along the sides would be raised by strings and the whole contraption
gently lifted out of the water with a pile of yabbies stranded on the wire. Only a few scoops were
needed to get as many yabbies as could be boiled at one time in a four gallon tin. The empty tin now
stood at Shaky’s feet. All around among the cans and stubbies the ground was littered with the
remains of yabbies. ¶ They didn’t bring any beverage other than beer, nor did they bring food, not
even a loaf of bread. They did not bring pots, pans, dishes or cups. The cooked yabbies would be
strained through the chicken wire and eaten off a piece of tin that they had found on the spot. They
did not have an axe or a saw. Consequently, they had to spend a long time scrounging about in the
dark for odd pieces of wood. They had brought no blankets though on the floor of the ute, under the
mattresses, there were several old coats covered in dirt and sump oil. They didn’t bring soap, towels
and none of them even owned a toothbrush. ¶ Jim felt cold. A sense of privacy prevented him from
laying down near the coals as Shaky was already there. Perhaps the others felt the same. Freddy
was sleeping rolled up on the ground like a dog. His favourite dog, Missy, was facing the other way
with her back touching his. Nearby propped up against a tree trunk Old Jock slept sitting upright, his
head tilted back in a convenient hollow, illuminated by the stars and the setting moon. The others
were nowhere to be seen. Old Jock and Freddy were wearing only a shirt. Shaky was sleeping in his
singlet and still would have even if he hadn’t been by the fire. Jim could not sleep when he was cold
and he could not sleep on the ground except in daytime. Jail had spoilt him. ¶ He strolled up the bank
to where the cars were parked on the edge of a saltbush plain. He pulled out a woollen coat from
under the mattresses, untangled it, hit it against the back of the ute a few times, and put it on. He
lifted a mattress off the ute and proceeded to carry it balanced on his head to where he could see
several bimble box shining among the saltbush. He preferred to sleep away from water anyway. He
loved the way the leaves of the bimble box (eucalytptus populnea) glowed in the starlight. It made
him feel that he was protected in his sleep by guardian angels. ¶ Several hours later still in his sleep
he heard a flock of galahs fly past. Galahs sometimes start moving before sunrise. Later on Missy
came noseying around his mattress and he could hear talking by the river. But he felt like a king on a
sumptuous couch and would not get up till forced to by the first flies crawling on his face. When he
did get up he saw Steve rummaging in one of the cars. Down the bank Shaky had already cleaned
the fish which were lying in a row on the sheet of tin they had used overnight for the yabbies. Only
Old Jock still slept propped up against a trunk. ¶ Old Jock was a mystery to Jim. He had never heard
him say anything except ‘yes’ or ‘yep, yep, yep’, ‘g’day’ and ‘very good day’. At the pub he would
stand slightly to the edge of a group drinking very little and say nothing at all, occasionally nodding
his head as if in agreement. He had thought that Jock might be slow witted yet Freddy claimed that
he could speak as well as any man. Later Jim discovered that Jock had one of the tidiest dugouts
around with floors that he kept swept and some real kitchen furniture. He was also a manufacturer of
drum nets and inventor of yabbying equipment. He was reputed to be almost eighty years old. ¶
Steve came down the bank with a dozen cans which he must have had hidden in the car and handed
them out. Shaky reminded him to put a couple aside for Old Jock. The sun was getting a bit of
warmth in it and the flies were becoming more active. Freddy, can in hand, strolled over to where Old
Jock still slept against his tree. He came back immediately with a bemused expression on his face
and said in a low voice: “He’s dead, you know.” ¶ Freddy had to be right. He’d seen dead men
before, in the war, when he was fighting for the Third Reich. They all walked over to where Jock sat
in death under a box tree. The sun was shining full on his face. His mouth was open and flies were
exploring the inside of his lip. His teeth were his own. ¶ writing an obituary / requires some talent /
not everyone / has suffiecient rapport with the dead / to be a professional / obituary writer /
requires talent indeed / to be really good / one must be practically dead oneself // the only one
/ who can write an adequate obituary / for a dead obituary writer / is the owner of the funeral
parlour / who having previously employed / the writer in a professional capacity / also sold
him a life insurance policy / which though it kept him poor / just covered the cost of his
burial”) rd. W torkd 4 well ovr an hour. Th foto of me & Joe & K8 ndr a wilga tree on the wall in th
ktchn @ Ivanhoe woz taken on hiz prprty nxt 2 th boundry fence wth Popio st8n drz it 2 th
north. Its near a spot whch uzed 2 b a favrit kampn  of mine & sumtimez I uzed 2 leav a koin in a
promnnt place on a log & if it woz thr whn Id rturn a year or so l8r Id know no1 had bn in th meantime.

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Therz lso a foto of K8 holdn a kupl of rabbts Id shot thr. Th@ woz on a trip with HOaLnLdIyS. He
must hav takn th foto of us ndr th tree. Iv bn thr wth u 2 & wev →d long th edge of th dry lake (7/1. H
sez sh kant rmmbr). He may hav bn th ownr whn w did it. Hez left bkoz hez had a fall out wth th rest
of th famly & now livz in Louth on th nkum from hiz nvst-mnts. Rginly hez ← th Eyre Pnnsula but he
woz so badly ffektd by th pestcides uzed here in grkulture (th gO iz workd nly th 1ce 4 th sowin, th
nsekt & plant pests bein killd x sprayn chemkls from th air. Whn I woz in lithol& & sor th@ th growth
on th nghbrn prpty 2 th Birds had bn poisnd I had told very1 I had nevr heard of it bein dun in oz but
itz st&rd praktis here) he startd bleedn from th mouth & ars & hiz doktr sed he woodnt last nuthr 10
yrs if he stayd. He ght Popiltah Lakes & ndd up growin g krops in th lake beds – but orgnikly.
He haz a dog th@ haz bn wth him very single day since th day it woz born ovr 12 yrs go. He haz dun
ovr 2 million miles all O oz dlivern th g z they grew & th dog woz wth him on very trip. Now he travls
in 1 of thoz huge smptuously ppointd kravans whch I sor parkd in f t of hiz place. He woz telln me O
hiz dvnturez on a trip he did in th US & alska. W knew vrious ppl in kommn nkludin old Crozier on
Cuthero st8n O (6/1. I m nkludin nuthr psode from IN TRANSIT (writ long ago O evnts whch took
place @ th dawn of hstry) of 1 of Jim Browns (I, Jim & Mallacoota Man (aka MM) r @ th very least
triplets) msdvnturez bkoz I think it took place not far from there: “Dear readers, moral bigots of
Melbourne, media freaks, products of a culture where representation has replaced reality, where
druggies lick cane toads, where beef cattle are fed on chicken shit – don’t worry, be happy! And
forgive Jim: he was only obeying an age old biological imperative encoded in his genes. Life must be
lived extravagantly; we mightn’t get another go at it. ¶ My candle burns at both ends / it will not
last the night / but oh, my enemies and ah, my friends / it makes a lovely light // (Edna St
Vincent Millay) ¶ For my part I am not prepared to point the finger at him. Though a snag myself
(sensitive new age gent) and an expert in prenuptial divorce I freely admit to a variety of
shortcomings. I am afraid of the real world out there: that’s why I spend so much time trying to return
to the womb. My defacto reckons I’ve been raping her for ten years. When I was a kid I stole panties
off clothes lines. The other day when doubts were raised in the press about the authenticity of Phar
Lap’s , I got drunk. In all humility I cannot of moral censure at Jim Brown. The world needs all
kinds. There is an equilibrium between Jim and me. I intend to donate my brain to science, Jim may
well donate his dick and balls. Who can judge which will be of greater benefit to research? Ignoring
the sheep Jim gets into the wog tank and heads up the road. ¶ Half an hour later at the Ana-branch
of the Darling river he stops again. No, you’re wrong: he doesn’t stop for another leak. He stops
because the sun is about to sink beyond the horizon; he is overwhelmed by the beauty of the
moment. There is a sensitive side to him which I haven’t highlighted because he himself rarely puts it
on display. In the flat country every sunset is a definite event. On this evening it indicates that the
kingdom of clarity and light is about to be overcome by the velvet mystery of shadows. And now that
the sun has sunk below the earth the western sky glows a fiery red while the eastern rim prepares for
night with a deep mauve. Meanwhile throughout the outback thousands of tourists with the spiritual
development of vegies roar along the asphalt with thoughts only of the motels, or campsites, or pubs
that they are booked into for the night. ¶ You’re half right: though its not why he stopped Jim does
have a leak. Then instead of dropping the empty stubby at his feet where it would trash up the road-
side he throws it out of sight behind a bluebush. He decides to spend the night here on the Ana-
branch. From the bridge he can see in the twilight a track heading off across the saltbush running
roughly parallel to the river which is outlined by the huge River Redgums (Eucalyptus camaldulensis,
sub-species obtusa) that line its course across the plain. Every now and then he can see larger areas
of forest spreading out into the plain away from the main channel. These are areas of Black Box
(Eucalyptus largiflorens) which dominate the flood prone depressions between the Redgums along
the river’s edge and the saltbush on the dry plain. ¶ There are innumerable side-tracks as Jim soon
discovers leading from the main track to the river’s edge. Generations of swagmen and drifters have
camped in every bend of the Darling all the way from here to Bourke. Jim finds a spot underneath a
huge corkscrewed Redgum limb that runs parallel to the ground just above head high for fifteen
yards. He parks his car directly underneath as was his habit in this kind of country. There is a
perverse side to Jim too. He is lucky to have found this spot before total darkness as his headlights
aren’t working. That was the more practical reason why he decided to spend the night here instead of
going on to the Hill. Later he sits on the branch drinking. Sometimes he stands up stubby in hand and
walks to the end of the branch as if it were natural for men to stroll in trees. A flock of corellas have
gathered for their nightly roost in a dead tree on the opposite bank. Their bickering and screeching

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will keep Jim company till well into the night. ¶ God puts right at night the mess that people make
during the day. I would like to describe that night to you – but how can I? Is there the faintest
possibility that the good matrons of Melbourne, fans of radio talkback and daytime television, could
be made to understand how the cackling of the corellas resonated in Jim’s soul? Would their
daughters, aspiring bimbos, stop their twittering long enough for me to explain how brilliantly the
stars sparkled in a desert sky as black as charcoal? Would their sons stop ogling girlie magazines
and porno videos long enough to allow me to describe how the glowing branches of the Redgums
reached towards the sky as if in prayer? Would their husbands, spectator sportsmen and windbags,
have the slightest inclination to hear how silent the night was after the corellas settled their
arguments? I think you will agree that the task is impossible. ¶ why was Christ / tempted in the
desert / amongst the tiny gibber stones / smooth edged / but many many right / to the
horizon / where the night is black / pierced with white angels / to look after you / to look after
you ¶ Jim climbed down from the tree for the final time and settled his back snuggly into a hollow in
the trunk. His meditative mood was interrupted by a black dog that materialized out of the night. It
was a friendly dog and Jim thought he could detect a smile on its dusky face. He wondered where
the dog had come from. Could there be a station nearby? The dog nudged Jim’s hand with its nose
to force him to pat it. It had been a long day for Jim. As he dozed off the dog snuggled beside him
like an old friend. ¶ Later he was woken up by the dog screwing his leg. It was sometime before Jim
was able to fully comprehend what was happening. For awhile he sat in the dark staring at it like a
stunned mullet. It was screwing his leg alright. He tried to shake it off but this merely had the effect of
making it redouble its efforts. He whacked it across the nose with his hand to no effect. Only a full
blooded kick in the gut with the other foot made the black mongrel jump up yelping and then settle
down next to him as before. However no sooner did he start dozing off than the dog was at it again.
And then still again later on. It was getting on Jim’s nerves. I am not for a moment suggesting that he
was a prude. Like Wagner’s Siegfried Jim had learnt about sex by observing nature and in fact had a
preference for doing it dog fashion. Friends had pointd out to him that the missionary position was
more civilized, more appropriate for humans. The problem was that whenever Jim did It that way the
dog would always try to lick his face. So he had reverted to his preferred position. I repeat Jim was
no prude. But to be raped by an unknown black dog in the middle of the night was a different matter.
¶ An old confucian proverb says ‘he who lie with dog get up with flea’. I am inclined to agree. Not
that it deterred the pioneers, nor for that matter the drovers, ringers, rousabouts and station-hands of
our own time. Ask Freddy Tree if you don’t believe me. I tell this for the benefit of the Japanese
tourist should he ever venture into the more inbred areas of our remote outback. Take care! Should
you buy a drink in a pub in Pooncarie or in Boooligal, of Banjo Patterson fame, and find that a bandy
legged bush type, wearing an akubra, is having a drink next to you – take care. Look down, and if
you find that his dog is quietly screwing his R.M. Williams you know what it means. If that bandy
legged bushy then saunters out the bar door up to the nearest car parked out the front and pisses on
the hub cap you know that he is beyond help. Every culture has its secrets: there are a lot of ankle
screwing dogs in outback Australia. I’ll tell you something else. There are experiences, certain
practices, which can age a man overnight. Look carefully at that sunburnt rigner nonchalantly leaning
on the bar, glass in hand, next to you. Look at his creased weather-beaten face. Try to guess his
age. How old do you reckon? 50? 65? I tell you, innocent nip, it may be that he is only twenty five
years old; it may be that he has licked a dog’s arse. ¶ Not that you can blame the poor blighters.
There’s a chronic shortage of fluff in the outback. A man’s instincts have to be satisfied. A mate of
mine tells me that a fifty year old woman’s arse is tighter than a sixteen year old virgin’s fanny. I
wouldn’t know, I’m in no position to challenge expert opinion. But if he’s right then why not dog? The
discovery of arse, or if you’re American, is the hidden sexual revolution of the 80s. Have a look at
the pics in the magazines next time you’re in a newsagent. Full frontals are out. The rear perspective
is the only angle that titillates the modern perve. Don’t rush off to get the pope: its not the fault of the
queers. It’s got more to do with man’s search for new challenges, new turf to plough, new erogenous
zones. We wouldn’t have got to where we are if it wasn’t for our restless creative imagination. The
humble bushman and his dog are only a microcosm of the broader thrust of history. Though a
renegade Greek of Armenian descent, as a patriotic Australian, I believe that we have a leading role
to play in the sexual revolution. It cannot be only coincidence that this brown land is the sole natural
habitat of the unique class of animals known as the monotremes whose name, as latinists among
you will know, refers to its members having only one aperture for both the sexual and anal functions.

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¶ Cherished reader, I hope a serious discussion of the mores of society doesn’t offend you no matter
how boring your own sexual practices. It may comfort you to know that huge slabs of this section fell
victim to the merciless strokes of my defacto’s double strength black texta marker. When I rewrote it
there were other parts that the typist wouldn’t touch (bless her!). The result is that a major thesis on
bush practices has shrunk to a few pages. That’s the kind of treatment us unrecognized authors
learn to live with. ¶ The truth is our society suffers from an illness in the way it treats those whose
sexual lives are deprived. Whereas it constantly stimulates the male sexual fancy it does nothing to
help the guys whose sex lives are lousy. And there’s plenty of them. There are old guys whose wives
have died or left them and who are out of practice at scoring. There are shy blokes who’ve never
been able to get a bit of brush. There are paraplegics, sick people, retarded people and guys who
are mentally ill. There are young kids who are stuck at home with Greek parents. There are guys with
pimples and ugly guys. There are guys whose girlfriends are fat and husbands whose wives are ugly.
There are perfectly ordinary people whose sex lives are lousy for no good reason at all. When you
put them all together you’re talking about half the people in the country. Our society is very unfair to
the have-nots. They would be better off in a muslim society or in China where sex is kept in private.
When those deprived guys start doing weird things in sex don’t point the finger at them. The fault is in
the whole society. Point the finger at yourself – your’re to blame. ¶ What about Jim Brown when he
was in prison? What sort of sex life was he supposed to have? ¶ Which reminds me, Jim Brown is
being screwed under the Redgum by the black dog. In spite of wasted years in jail he was not
inexperienced. He’d done it like a goanna up a tree, he had done it like a bandicoot, as you know he
had done it dog fashion. But he was not prepared to do it with a dog especially not with a strange
dog. ¶ Mallacoota Man, by the way, had done it like a fish and with a fish, and he’d done it like a
coral polyp too. But let’s concentrate on Jim. ¶ Tired as he was he could see that the dog wasn’t
going to give up. He couldn’t keep it away by throwing empty stubbies at it. There was nothing for it
except to go for a walk. Each time he stopped the dog would clasp its front legs aroung his calf and
immediately get back to work. It made him wonder about its owner. Finally he couldn’t take it
anymore. When it came for him one more time he let go with a mighty kick that caught it fair and
square in the testicles. As it raced off into the salt-bush he could hear its yelping receding into the
night for quite awhile. ¶ Jim looked up. Oh Lord, how huge that dome was! He had been so
preoccupied with the dog he had barely registered it. Back by the car he had been cloistered from it
by the limbs of the gums and the alcoholic numbness that had descended over his mind. Even so
patches of sky had intruded through the branches like another reality. He turned round and round in
amazement. Though there was no moon the stars threw enough light to make the saltbush glow
blue. The milky way stretched from horizon to horizon like a halo. He could see the pan handle, the
andromeda galaxy, the southern cross. He could see infinity. He shivered because he was tiny. The
sky was beyond comprehension. It made him wonder about god. Not that he was in the least
religious, not our Jim. Yet now he succumbed to the deepest thoughts. Could it be that we were only
figments of god’s imagination? And could it be that our ancestors are figments of our imagination? Is
the past an illusion, is history an invention? ¶ You have to admit that history is more an expression
of contemporary fashion than it is a description of a former reality. Take the story of hydatids, the
malignant microbe that ravaged the brains of shepherds in western Victoria before finally killing them.
While the inventors of the stump-jump plough, the cardboard wine-cask and the orbital engine have
become household names, who knows the name of the discoverer of hydatids? For it was an
Australian doctor who discovered this fatal disease. I put it to you that the simple country G.P. with a
practice centering on Minyip in the mallee is more deserving of star billing in the hall of fame. What a
tremendous leap of imagination it must have taken to make the connection of sheep to dog to man.
The only evidence he had to go on was that several of his elderly alcoholic patients, former drovers
and shearers, had complained of unusual headaches and blurred vision shortly before dying. More
than a year later after a slack day in the surgery as he leans against the main bar of the Criterion, the
only hotel in Minyip, and is about to raise a pot of beer to his lips he overhears a chance ribald
remark made by one bushman to another about the way his dog walks. Most doctors, if they were
drinkers, would have their glass of wine or spirits back at the surgery after the last patient had gone
home. But out doctor happened to be a man of the people and I might add, a labor voter all his life.
He made a point of drinking with the locals every Friday night. He would only have a couple of
glasses as he was on call overnight, and Friday and Saturday were the two nights he was most likely
to be got up. One of the bushmen slaps his thigh with his hand as a signal to the dog who has been
sitting obediently against the wall behind the legs of other drinkers. The dog walks up to its owner

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and sits down next to his foot. The doctor notices that the dog does indeed have a somewhat
uncomfortable waddling gait. He puts the glass back on the bar and knits his brows in thought. He
recalls that two of the patients that had complained of blurred vision had come to the surgery
accompanied by their dogs. He tries to remember if they had a strange waddling walk. Over the next
months as he does his rounds of mallee properties he keeps a careful eye on the dogs. He notices
that some of them walk in an unusual manner as if constipated. One day a station owner calls the
good doctor to attend to an old charcoal burner who had been found dead in his camp on a remote
corner of the property. For the doctor this was a routine assignment merely requiring him to put a
signature on a death certificate. As the owner brings his T-model Ford to a stop in front of the dead
man’s humpy, they are surrounded by dogs. The doctor notices that they all look constipated. ¶ This
is a somewhat embroidered account of the truth. The rest of the story is only of interest to medical
students. The doctor signs the death certificate attributing the death to natural causes. However as
the charcoal burner is not known to have any relatives he has the body sent to the morgue in Jeparit
(birthplace of Sir Robert Menzies) where a thorough autopsy is carried out. A large cyst is found in
the brain. It is identical to cysts found in the brains of sheep and rabbits. It is the hydatid cyst. The
part played by dogs in the chain took some years to establish beyond doubt. The hydatid larva goes
through several benign nymphal stages. Once a dog has ingested one of these stages by eating
sheep offal or infected rabbits it can then pass the disease on to men. Enough said. In the same way
that AIDS can be used to esitmate the number of woofters and druggies in the big city the incidence
of hydatids in outback communities can be used as a measure of the prevalence of certain bush
practices to which I shall make no further reference in case I incriminate myself. Lately I hear that
drovers from Hay to Booligal have started coming down with AIDS too. I wonder what it means? ¶
The point is that a brilliant medical breakthrough with a genuine humanitarian benefit has remained
unsung simply because aspects of the story ran counter to the prevailing moral sensitivities of that
generation of historians. ¶ History is the handmaiden of fashion Jim thought nodding his head and
was about to head back to his car when he realized he didn’t know which way he was facing. While
engrossed in philosophical consid-erations he had turned around at least several times. The plain
stretched away evenly under the star-light as far as he could see. The road went straight in both
directions without a distinguishing feature. He looked hard into the distance to see if he could discern
any hint of the trees that would indicate the river. But he couldn’t. He had been so distracted by the
dog that he had no idea of how long he had been walking either. Above him hung the immense bowl
of the night sky. The stars glittered. ¶ The bedouin and the nomadic tribes of our own desert knew
the sky so intimately that provided it was clear they could fix their direction without conscious effort. I
myself in Jim’s predicament would have had to prolong the axis of the southern cross with a hand
motion and with another hand motion draw a straight linge in the sky which bisected at right angles
the line that joins the two pointers, which are just near the southern cross. From the point where the
two lines drawn in the sky meet I would drop another line down to the horizon. As you know that
would tell me where true south was. Once I had that definite reference point I could have worked out
which direction led back to the river. Unfortun-ately Jim was not familiar either with the sky or the
bushcraft manual. ¶ I’m telling this as I heard it word of mouth from Jim himself though whether it
was at a pub in Booligal or Patchiwollock or Tilpa or Balmain (birthplace of Neville Wran) I can’t truly
say as I was pissed at the lot of them. For my part I told him several versions of the Mallacoota Man
story which he then proceeded to spread all around the country with many additions claiming to have
personal knowledge of the man. These accounts all of which are have been collected by an
astute oral historian working out of Sydney and are available on cassette at the Macquarie Library
under the title: Apocryphal Mallacoota Man. ¶ They tend to deny what we have come to accept as
essential features of the hermit’s story. For instance some of them deny the existence of the whale or
that M.M. made eye contact with it or that he admin-istered the last rites. None of them mention the
dolphin and there is a tendency to downplay or to fail to mention the gloomy conversation with the
crows. Others deny the existence of the hoons, the sack, or even the sock which still hangs on
display at the Mallacoota Tourist Museum. One of them even denies that it was M.M. who invented
the multiple male orgasm. Another claims he was born in the normal human manner. There is a
version according to which no charred body was found in the forest disregarding the evidence of
newspaper accounts and police files. Some dispute that the hermit ever made the trip up the beach
and one goes so far as to deny he existed. The story of him pulverizing the hoon to death with an
unopened stubby is airily dismissed as implausible as is the account of him starting a bushfire by

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rubbing together two possums. You will notice that if we are to construct a new version of the story
from the apocrypha what we end up with is a negative of the original. So it is that history distorts and
then destroys truth. The curious thing is that if the negative accounts are treated as exact opposites
we can use them to reconstruct the original. Even more strange I find is that the original arrived at by
such means is closer to the truth than any of the accounts I gave you, which some historians have
always claimed may themselves be the expressions or even reversals of more ancient archtypal
myths. An eminent Japanese philosopher contends that the most ancient of these predate the human
species as a kind of code or direction embedded in the fabric of matter for the future evolution of the
human race. I see no evidence of it. ¶ Meanwhile Jim was fast sobering up. He studied the sky
intently and took off towards a distinctive constellation that hung twenty degrees above the track. He
had no way of judging time and it could have been half an hour or a full hour before he decided to
turn around. Sometime later he was stopped short by the curious idea that he couldn’t remember
whether he had really turned around or only thought that he should turn around. His first instinct was
to look for footprints but then he remembered the constellation above the track. At this point he
realized that he could have turned himself around a second time while looking for the footprints so
that now there was no way of telling whether he had turned about before. He headed off again with
the constellation behind him. He felt uneasy and quickened his stride. Presently it occurred to him
that if he was really heading towards the river he should sooner or later find his own and the dog’s
prints going in the opposite direction. He studied the ground carefully and a couple of times got down
on his hands and knees for a closer inspection but the ground was too hard to leave prints. He was
annoyed with himself for not having left a marker in the middle of the track where he had parted
company with the dog. He should have spread bluebush branches across the road. As he was
castigating himself for his failure he noticed that the distinctive constellation he had been using as a
guide appeared to have shifted sideways in relation to the track; or had the track veered without him
noticing? For that matter wasn’t the constellation supposed to be behind him? Then it occurred to
him that what might have happened was that the first time he really did turn around and the second
time he had only thought to walk in the opposite direction but had actually continued on in the same
and only now noticed the mistake. He had to concentrate. He was properly rattled and as sober as a
judge. He shivered: not because he was small and the sky was huge but because it was getting cold.
¶ It was obvious that not only did he not know which direction he was walking in but his time sense
had deserted him. Had he kicked the dog an hour ago or three hours ago? When he came to a fork
in the track there was nothing for it but to keep on walking. He took the right fork though he could
equally have taken the left one. It goes without saying that he had not noticed any other tracks earlier
in the night. The river had to be in the other direction after all. He might have to go back. So it was a
relief to see a line of large trees loom up ahead. But something was wrong: he ran his hand along a
trunk, the bark was rough. They were the wrong kind of trees. They were black box not river redgums
as he would later learn. Nevertheless he would go on. He felt more secure underneath their branches
than on the open plain. Presently the sky began to turn grey and he discerned a hint of a glow
between the trunks. It was almost dawn when he walked on to the asphalt of what had to be the
highway to Broken Hill. He stamped his feet on the hard surface in relief. He was hungry but felt
better. He trotted up the road to warm up then stopped to think. The horizon to the right was glowing
a bright orange: the sun was about to rise. He headed north. Soon he was standing on the bridge
that crosses the Ana-branch in the exact spot from which he had contemplated the sunset the
previous evening. ¶ Jim’s most pressing concern was to find his car because he was getting
extremely hungry and would make it to the Hill quicker by driving than by walking. But first he had to
have a leak. The relief of discovering his whereabouts is about to release a stream too long pent up.
Once again dear readers, tweedle dums and tweedle dees of Melbourne, I present to you Jim Brown
taking out a prick capable of making a football player squirm with penis envy and releasing a stream
worthy of a draught horse onto the parched gravels by the highway to Broken Hill. Words are
unroadworthy vehicles in the search for truth but I ask you, condom testers of Victoria, to bear with
me for indulging now and then in a little purple prose. ¶ Jim wasted no time in retracing the track he
had taken the previous evening to the grove of giant redgums by the bank of the lagoon. The new
sun was quickly making its way into the boughs and flocks of corellas were heading off towards their
feeding grounds in the plains. The huge tree with the horizontal branch was there as before. Stubbies
and cans new and old were scattered about underneath as indeed they were all the way to Bourke
and further. But there was no car; there were no tyre marks. Jim raced frantically along the bank to
other groups of river gums with huge hor-izontal branches. He climbed up some and walked along

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them to test if they felt the same as the one he had promenaded on the previous night. He found
more stubbies and more cans but nary a trace of the wog tank. He followed the bank back to the
bridge with the same result. He repeated the entire process twice again before finally accepting
defeat. The wog tank was gone. As he trudged back to the highway he was overcome by a sense of
the supernatural. He crossed the bridge and continued on. Broken Hill lay two hundred kilometres up
the road. Perhaps he had walked this far. Perhaps the wog tank was only a figment of his
imagination. Perhaps he had always been walking. Perhaps ever-ything was a figment of his
imagination. He turned around when he heard a sound approaching. It was a car heading his way. ¶
standing by the road / waiting for a lift / square shoulders / yellow shirt / covered in red
outback dust / tough / I wanted to be a lair / so I picked / a blue flower / lair-flower / for my
button-hole / but it broke apart / and fell to the ground ¶ What are the really significant moments
in a nation’s history, assuming that there is such a thing as history and it’s not just made up by
newspapers and historians? Surely the most important events are the ones that gen-erate the myths
which inspire us and by which we live. By such a measure the day, or the time, or more precisely the
point in time, or more generally but eruditely the time frame, or for the crass uneducated simply the
‘then’; the moment when the car pulled up that gave Jim a lift was such an event in the history of the
Australian people for it gave rise to one of the most enduring myths in bush lore.”) hoom I wrote in 1
of my pieces last yr (c ‘October 27’ p20). Hiz main fear iz he mght die b4 hiz dog does az he thinks th
dog woodnt know how 2 liv wth sum1 els. They evn eat th same food 2gthr. I sed hed outliv th dog
but he sed he woodnt want th@ eithr & wood rathr go @ th same time thgh he knew it woz llegl
(ktually it iznt (5/1. heLaOtWhEer told me 2day sh iz a mmbr of th thnazia sciety. Sh lso sed sum of
my stuff gets red in White Cliffs koz sh sends it (4/8/10. so ths prvdd mi wthn o mom
nth Sunday (lrrt da vTHE
WEEK) 2 reepond 2 th KOnst dm ( thrett!) v t 
th 2 supl u wth th misn prtt v IN TRANSIT wth nnrtd nn shnn fu folom kair
rlow u 2 , paat  spl 2gthr t nth rignl 4rm (rejktd  reputpushrr)  th 1st werd
 th lrrt: “In the pub he got talking to a drunk who insisted on trying to find out where he came from.
Rather than go to the trouble of inventing a fictitious past he told him how at Mallacoota, where for a
time he used to call in at the general store for supplies, the pub always had abalone steak as part of
its menu. He had been dissuaded from trying this meal by a local who claimed that it was a bit like
eating a cooked sandshoe. Since then he had never stopped regretting not having sampled that
meal. No other pub he had been to offered abalone steak on its menu. He realized now that menu
had been the only really unique experience Mallacoota had to offer. Otherwise it was no different to
any other coastal resort on a beautiful piece of complicated waterway. It was full of rich retired
superannuees, indoors watching their TVs in winter, emerging occasionally to walk their dogs along
the beach in summer when the population suddenly soared tenfold, swelled by vacationers from
Melbourne intent on getting a sun-tan and playing mini-golf. It was in summer too that the roads were
suddenly full of yuppy males, probably sons of the superannuees, in cowboy hats driving four wheel
drives pulling huge speed boats or motor launches with names like ‘Torpedo’ and ‘Thruster’ painted
on their sides which rarely or ever, it seemed to him, made it into the water. Truly a town with no
soul. He imagined his father, a silver haired gentleman always in a grey suit, white shirt and tie,
would fit well into this town. In his mind’s eye he could see him driving his Pajero Landcruiser to this
same general store each morning to collect his paper and litre of milk. ¶ The owner of the store was
obviously very curious about him and where he had come from. Perhaps he suspected him of being
an abalone poacher which was at that time fetching $40 a kilo in the shell. One evening he happened
to meet him at the local and rather than tell lies about his past he explained at great length, to an
obviously bored and somewhat embarrassed shopkeeper, why he was here. He was a bit drunk of
course, and his poetic fancy had been stirred. ¶ He was camped some forty ks up the coast track at
Shipwreck Creek in search of spiritual renewal. He had come to purge his soul of the sights and
sounds of the big city. The problem was that his nerves were frayed by the artificial rhythms of his
life. He had come to realize that the capacity to see beauty depended entirely on retaining some kind
of inner peace. Inner peace he claimed, is, ideally, like a pool of clear water on whose still surface
the impact of a pebble causes ripples that radiate all the way to the bank. He had become aware of
these things even as his psyche was becoming so distracted by inanities that his capacity to see
beauty had all but left him. And that was why he was camped in the bush mid-winter by himself. ¶
The shopkeeper looked vague and nervously fingered his “Small Traders are the Backbone of the

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Nation” badge, which he was still wearing after the Vote for Joh rally that afternoon. It was clear that
his curiousity had been blunted and that he was looking for an exit out of the conversation. The
opportunity was provided by the stranger leaving the bar to go to the toilet. His own waters were
agitated and turbid the stranger mused as he stared despondently down the gurgler of the urinal. No
chance of a stone making ripples there. ¶ What’s more, he thought as he left the back way in order to
avoid returning to the bar, small town general stores are not a natural breeding ground for
philosophers. ¶ Outside it was already pitch black. He faced about an hour’s drive along an obscure
occasionally flooded winding track through the forest. He would have to be careful not to get lost as
some of the forestry tracks that came into it were in better condition though they usually led nowhere.
Besides he knew that alcohol impaired his night sight: the contrast between light and dark would be
exaggerated by the loss of all intervening shades of grey. As he left the hotel car park behind him
heading towards the edge of town he wondered if the habit of parking his car well away like that was
connected with his childhood practice of always sitting in the last row of desks in the classroom. Both
practices allowed him to distance himself from the centre of activities. ¶ He noted with approval how
the darkness lay siege to the feeble circles of light cast by the street lamps. Apart from them the only
other lights visible were the occasional glow-worm glow of a window with its blinds drawn. It was if
the town had shrunk into these small remaining enclaves of security were families huddled together
in the hope that what was visible was also comprehensible - ¶ for round the edges / of the light /
brute monsters / wrestle in the night ¶ Or perhaps not. The spell was broken momentarily by the
headlights of a car that rounded the corner heading in the direction of the pub. Could it be that the
real monsters are the products of men’s intelligence conceived in the clear light of day? He could
imagine, behind the drawn blinds, entire families rivetted to their idiot boxes actually believing that
their understanding of the world was increased by the pap and beat-ups served up on them. ¶ Fools -
¶ all your / stratagems and plans / cannot give your children / sight // yet the black swan / on
the wing / can smell the swamp / across the night. ¶ He rounded the corner and reached his car
parked next to a retaining wall on the other side of which he could hear a faint lapping of water
though in the pitch dark the estuary was invisible. He sat down on the wall and swung his legs over
onto the seaward side, turning his back on the town. There were no streetlights along this stretch of
road and he knew both he and his car were totally invisible. He felt no community with the
townspeople in their islands of light behind him. He gave his trust to the night and felt that he was an
intimate of its moods. The darkness was explainable by a layer of cloud hiding the stars. The stillness
and the absence of chill in the winter air meant that there was a possibility of rain. The moon was due
to start its journey up from the eastern horizon any time now, but tonight it might be hidden by cloud.
¶ Now, having seated the stranger on the wall with his back to the town staring out into the night
across the invisible bay, I, his creator, will leave him in that position to pass a few cautionary
comments on his character and what the future may hold for him. ¶ I must say that this is a thrill. You
don’t know anything about the influences that have molded the stranger’s character; and I may yet
decide not to tell you. Nor do you know what is going to happen to him; a future which it is entirely up
to me to shape. Such power we authors have! Here I present to you a man, a stranger in the truest
sense of the word, with no past and no future and if I am to satisfy your curiousity I will have to invent
both: I will have to create time. And like God, who having endowed man with free will may by now be
very disappointed with his work, I too cannot predict with total confidence the choices my stranger
will make. But that is only because I am subject to whim and fancy. I will not grant my creation free
will – I will choose his directions myself. I left him sitting on the sea wall with his legs dangling over
the water when I could just as easily have positioned him leaning with his back against the car, facing
the lights of the town. And don’t be fooled by that name ‘Mallacoota’ – it could well be Narooma or
Merimbula. Can you appreciate how a man like me, not hen-pecked, but still I do exactly as I am told,
can be seduced by this kind of thing? After all my wife once called me a shithead in front of guests.
After washing up the dishes and scratching her back while she watches ‘Neighbours’ (we eat early) I
sneak off to the back room, put on the heater, and pull out my folder from under the Playboy
magazines (she won’t let me read Penthouse), and suddenly I am king, I am the one, I make the
decisions. ¶ I have to be perfectly frank about one thing though: this man’s ‘intimacy’ with the night
does bother me, and its going to tax my powers of invention too. I once had to sleep out in a tent in
the backyard with my boys so that they could get their scout’s beginners badge. That night I aged ten
years – I learnt a bit about possums too. I’ll tell you something else – those poems, and I’m going to
hit you with a few more, weren’t written by me. And as for the stanger, it is true I can make him do
almost anything I want, but to some extent I have to go where the logic of events takes me: I can’t

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turn night into day or whisk him suddenly to his camp without his car. I am hostage to his current
circumstances and I am not sure if I can control the sinister events that could well overwhelm him. ¶
Tender is the night. Refuge of the weary. The earth is a woman: her tears are rain, her agony is the
sun, her peace is night. Now as she draws a shawl of darkness around her he can rest his head in
her shadowy lap. Memories of another night drift through his mind - ¶ once there was a silver girl /
girl of brightness / crystal queen // hullo dolly // now there is a black girl / the door opens /
rustling in darkness / breathing / or a dog panting / the little black girl comes / without a word
¶ Someone once said that there is a dark side of the moon to every man. Perhaps night people are
simply people in whom that side has been less suppressed than in day people. Early to bed early to
rise is an attitude parents work hard to inculcate into all children; yet many children indicate by their
reluctance to go to bed that they would prefer to be the sort of people who stay up late into the night
and sleep through the morning. The stranger knew that he was definitely a night person; according to
his mother even when he was a small boy he used to claim that his soul was as black as boot polish.
He knew all kinds of things about the night that were not generally known: for instance, that it
breathes; or that in a cemetery you can hear the dead whispering to each other deep underground;
or that - ¶ the swelling / of the tide / and the bleeding / of a woman’s womb / move to the
rhythm of the moon // at night / the farmer’s dog will howl / the lunatic will dance ¶ Night
nurtures such souls as his. There is a special sense of security in standing in a darkened doorway or
behind a bush in a front yard and have people pass within feet unaware that you are there. No
wonder that most animals in the bush emerge only after dark. By structuring life around day-time
activities man stifles the expression of his most deep-seated and ancient instincts, so sentencing
himself to an emotional life which is insipid and relationships that are vacuous. The real master of
nocturnal activities is, of course, the cat - ¶ the local alley cat / one eyed prowler in the night /
was killed this evening / by the headlight of a car // with the silent instinct / of generations of
his kind / he writhed and cartwheeled / into a neighbours yard // to die or enter another one /
of his nine lives // perhaps / the curtain of night has / been rent / to admit him finally // into the
paradise / of prowlers ¶ He was roused from these reveries by the sound of cars being started up in
the distance. It was closing time at the pub. ¶ For him too, it was time to move on. As he lifted his
head he saw that the bay was aglow. The moon shone bright in a break between the clouds. It won’t
rain after all, he thought. He drove past the last street light and out of town, heading west, with the
moon behind him. Ten ks on, the road turned into a track at the exact line where farmland met bush.
The headlights of the van were now like two searchlights, two tunnels of light that circumscribed his
world. He drove slowly conscious of the reflections in the water by the side of the track. Round a
bend and it was completely underwater beyond the range of his lights. He changed down into first
gear. He knew there was a hundred metres of water to cross, and right in the middle was a makeshift
wooden bridge, which because it had no sides, could not be seen as it was below the surface. More
importantly this was the spot at which anyone without local knowledge would turn around and go
back. Only the occasional local and someone like the stranger (who had on a previous occasion
taken off his shoes and walked the puddle in freezing conditions) would have known that under the
sheet of water the road was as firm as bitumen and the only threat it posed was to the electrics of the
car. He drove carefully and almost stopped before crossing the bridge. As he churned out of the
puddle onto higher ground he commended himself for having a van that was high off the ground. He
was private now; the road was his. And so it was with an unpleasant jolt that he remembered the new
model car parked at the far edge of a council clearing round the next bend. He remembered it
because he had just caught a reflection from it briefly in his headlights. It had been there to his
surprise in the afternoon when he was driving out and it was still there now. It had looked too new to
have been dumped and why would anyone go to the trouble of dumping it this side of the water. He
noted that the only tyre marks on the road were the ones that he had made on the way out. As he
went over the crest of a rise he judged that he had left at least half a kilometre between himself and
the abandoned car.There was an intersection here between the track and a better made forestry
road. He drove the van onto the road and pulled up in a clearing on the high side behind some
wattles which he had previously noticed where he knew the car was shielded from the road. He
lowered himself out of the van and began walking slowly up the hill. He had taken a pencil torch but
did not switch it on. The moon shone with a glitter like prophecy. ¶ It had always amazed him how
clearly lit up a bush landscape could be at night. The road he trod was a silver ribbon, the glowing
trunks on either side were guardians. A trick of his imagination made it appear that it was brighter
than daytime and because he momentarily felt exposed he moved off the track and stood inside the

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shadow of a tree trunk. ¶ the tranquil night moon / mocks the eye of day ¶ A cloud moved over
the moon and the landscape of road and trees was instantly transformed. This is one of the tricks the
night plays on you: once the moon is covered by a cloud you can see only the negative, just like the
film negative of a photo, of what was there before. The murky negative landscape of shadows inside
shadows can only be comprehended by the human eye with great difficulty. It does not have an exact
one to one relation to the previous landscape in the way that a film negative is related to the print. He
could remember once in Canberra going late at night to where he was staying from a pub across a
paddock or park in similar light conditions. A cloud obscured the moon and the night scene was
similarly changed. In the darkness he could discern a narrow drain choked with weeds. Not wishing
to get his feet soaked by the boggy edges he took a running jump and landed in the bottom of a v-
shaped canal, ten feet wide and nearly as deep. There was a lot of construction going on in Canberra
in those days. He climbed out of the channel with a twisted ankle and next day he lost his job. ¶ He
resumed walking up the road. His eyes were accustomed to the dark now and he would not use the
torch unless it was absolutely necessary. Anyway, once again the lunatic moon appeared from
behind a cloud to bathe the road in a metallic sheen. So it was in bright moonlight that he reached
the edge of the clearing at the other end of which he knew the car was parked. He did not approach it
directly because of the remote possibility that someone was asleep inside; or for that matter, awake
disturbed by the noise of him driving past half an hour earlier. He moved very slowly from shadow to
shadow along that edge of the clearing which would bring him to the car from the other side where it
was nosed right into the scrub. His progress was made safer though slower by the disappearance of
the moon once again. He was not prepared to use his torch and just before he reached a spot that he
thought would bring him level with the back of the car he caught his foot in what turned out to be a
rope. He felt the rope with his hand noiselessly: it was nylon and about half an inch thick. When he
had untangled his foot he stood still wondering what to do next. He knew he was right beside the car
and that it was probably empty. But he did not want to use his pencil torch just in case. The problem
was solved for him by the re-emergence of the moon. The car, it was a station wagon, was bathed in
light right next to him. It was so close he could have touched it. He realized instantly that he would be
equally visible to anyone looking out. The back window was wound down and he wondered if the
sound of his heart beating could be heard in the car. Apart from his heart the silence was total. He
took a step to the side and slowly sank to one knee so as to get out of the line of vision of anyone
inside. From this angle he could clearly see in the cold light of a baleful moon that there were two
midgets sitting in the front seat strapped in by their seat belts. Neither of them had a head! It was
only when the rush of blood to his own head subsided that he realised that the two bodies were
dummies. ¶ It is strange how the night affects not only what a person sees and feels but also how he
thinks. The stranger was overcome by an unreal sense that this macabre joke was meant especially
for him; played by someone who had known all along that he was camped further up the road;
someone who knew him better than he knew himself and was able to anticipate that he would come
to investigate this car at night. ¶ No, it could not be. A joke it might be, but it was a joke that was not
meant for him. He stood up and shone his pencil torch through the window into the back of the
wagon. There was a standard spring mattress on the floor in the middle of which lay a head that had
clearly belonged to one of the dummies. Then he saw the other head wedged between the end of the
mattress and the tail-gate. The mattress had a large stain on it made, it appeared to him, by some
substance such as pitch or tar. It was then that he noticed a distinct musty odour which was
unfamiliar to him. He suddenly felt dizzy as if he might fall over and sat down on the ground exactly
where he had stood. Then he crawled on hands and knees away from the car as if to avoid being
seen by some sinister presence inside it. Once again his hand was snared by the rope. Half way
across the clearing he stood up and ran. He didn’t stop running till he was almost back at the van
when he had to catch his breath, which he did hidden in the bushes by the side of the road. His hand
was shaking so badly that for what seemed like an eternity he couldn’t find the keyhole to the ignition.
He turned the van around, drove past the station wagon at speed for the third time that day and half
an hour later was back in Mallacoota, town of abalone steak, his hands still shaking with dread. ¶ Or
so I could have you believe if that’s what I wanted. In actual fact there never was a station wagon in a
clearing by the road and our stranger is still on his way to his campsite making sure he doesn’t get
lost by going off his own track onto one of the competing ones. I lifted that whole grisly episode from
an article in a newspaper describing a true event about a couple who committed suicide by tying a
rope around their necks to a tree and then driving off in their car. When the police found their
headless bodies in the car they immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was suicide. How is that

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for intelligence! Later on they found the rope and the heads in the back hidden by loose clothing. My
reason for taking you up this garden path was just to give you an example of the sort of
exaggerations so called good writers do all the time now, but which I intend to avoid. I will not
descend to mere sensationalism in order to embellish a story even though that was the precise story
the stranger told the drunk who had been trying to find out where he came from. ¶ Some of the
highest praise that a critic can give a novel these days is to say that it pulses with energy and a zest
for life. Strange that energy should be so admired in an age made flaccid by tremendous material
wealth. People’s lives are so lacking in emotional poignancy that a tantrum thrown by a tennis player
on TV may well be the most exciting event in a person’s day. With the help of sophisticated
technologies we have eradicated the unexpected to a degree where strong and violent emotions are
more a threat to the stability of our lives than an advantage in combatting danger. We live and we die
not with a bang but a whimper, usually in front of a TV screen or newspaper. Our new gods, the
creators of the realities that give the characteristic flavour to our life, are the media magnates. The
only thing that can rouse us into a murderous rage is the threat of the withdrawal of our material
comforts. ¶ So, this is western man, the man a modern writer must strive to entertain. Two basic
rules must be observed in such an attempt. Firstly the writer must provide his reader with plenty of
action; stories one after the other preferably with unexpected endings and hence no connection with
each other. This is so because TV man yearns for adventure even as he becomes less capable of
having it. Secondly the reader’s concentration must not be taxed: hence no attempt should be made
to develop a character or explore long term relationships. Affluence has destroyed our capacity to
sustain intense emotion. Our tragedies must be brief, our ecstasies better be varied. ¶ Obeying those
two rules is the secret of Peter Carey’s success. There is not a single character in any of his books
who is more than a caricature. His women, in particular, are totally unbelievable and could well be
the product of an inexperienced adolescent’s wish fulfilling fantasies, and ridiculous ones at that. But
he sure can tell a tale with some unexpected twists and turns – entertaining reading even if totally
forgettable. ¶ John Irving’s books are readable for the same reasons except that he does a more
systematic job of canvassing the cliches current with today’s middle classes. Work out what sells
newspapers, and you’ve plumbed the depth of John Irving’s output: women’s lib, sexual liberation,
aberration and titillation, travel, the handicapped, drugs, job advancement. And of course, all his
characters are dilettantes in everything. ¶ The most significant development, however, in the selling
of the modern novel are developments in the way sex is portrayed. People are no longer excited by
the relative normality of a gardener screwing Lady Chatterly behind the rose bushes. Peter Carey in
“Bliss”, with the unerring instinct of a writer who knows that what he is writing is drivel and that if he
doesn’t do something quick the reader will put away his book, has a fifteen year old girl suck off her
brother for a gram of hash before you even get to page 30. It’s very hard to keep forever improving
on this sort of thing. When it comes to sex we thrive on repetition, but finally even here the senses
become jaded. John Irving does pretty well in “Garp”, though, with a scene where a mature age
literature student expands her horizons by doing the preliminaries on her professor in the front seat
of his car. Unfortunately, he forgets to put the handbrake on and it rolls back and bumps into a stone
fence. Modesty prevents me from recounting the incident in full graphic detail: suffice to say that the
professor ends up minus his knob and the mature age student with severe indigestion; an ironic twist
to the career of a man whose female Ph.D. students had nick-named ‘Lighthouse’. Amazingly Irving
manages at least one innovation in every book. In “Hotel New Hampshire” he has a lesbian have it
off with a bear. Hard to know how to top that. Perhaps you could have a hunchback (the disabled are
in) screwing a nun wearing a gorilla suit (animal liberation is in) anally (back passages are in).
Writers have to work hard to get attention these days. ¶ I cant compete with all that. My ten year free
subscription to “Playboy” has not provided me with a suffienct preparation. I have to come clean with
you here. That bit about the Playboy magazines is the only thing about me that I said before that is
true. My wife never thumped me and she never called me a shithead. It was me that threw the
punch, and it was my mother I hit. It’s my de facto that calls me a shithead, all the time. She’s a
pastry cook (I’m university trained) – she calls everyone a shithead. There is no back room here.
There are only three rooms in the whole flat and I keep my “Playboys” under our bed. I don’t retire to
the back room to write; I write when my de facto (who is 23 years older than me) goes to work. Since
I quit driving taxis because they never paid as much as sickness benefits there’s bugger all I’ve got to
do except write. By the way I also believe in extra-terrestrial beings who take trips on our suburban
trains disguised as humans. I would like to meet one to compare notes. I fuck sheep too. ¶ On a
more serious note I am considering, at the risk of disappointing you, leaving the stranger’s sex life

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out of the story altogether. What I really want to tell you about is how I met my de facto at a
psychiatric clinic.This was a clinic I attended after I punched my mum on the last day I lived at home.
God knows why I did it – it was the old man I hated, not my mum. I hated him, because he was a
Greek and believed in hard work, making lots of money and stuff like that. I visit them every day now
for a meal and something to do. They never see my brothers, who’ve all made good, but they still
think the world of them and that I’m a misfit. Though they don’t say so. In fact I don’t think they talk to
anyone except me. They were too busy working their whole bloody life to make any friends. I don’t
even hate the old man now; most of the things he said when I was fifteen were probably true anyway.
But let’s get back to my de facto. She works like a dog in a kitchen all day long and I sit at home, with
all my qualifications, like king Tut, and I swear to you that she never reproaches me or holds the
slightest grudge against me on that account. She’s had to put up with me dismantling all the electrical
equipment looking for secret ray beams. Sometimes when I’m watching TV and my lady rests her
hand casually on my shoulder I feel more tenderness than I have ever known. That’s the sort of thing
I would really like to tell you about. If I could describe to you the anatomy of tenderness I could say to
myself I knew something about writing. Anyone can write about bums and dicks. I got my two years
(sorry about the exaggeration) subscription to “Playboy” for a story I sent them about bums and dicks
which they d
idn’t even publish. And she never calls me a shit, that just came out that way in the writing.
(“Meanwhile, right in the midst of these literary considerations….@ Monday
14/2/05….To introduce you to the night”) ¶ When he awoke the sun was already high in the
sky. He was lying on his side in the open looking out at scattered clumps of bluebush and mulga. He
noticed that he had used a pair of folded jeans as a pillow. His sleeping bag was lying on earth that
was red and sandy. He knew immediately that he was in state of complete memory loss even as,
paradoxically, he realized that this was an experience he had not before had. His loss of identity, for
he did not know his own name, filled him with euphoria. He felt almost light headed. ¶ an accident
divided his brain / into four parts / top left / a coast pounded by the sea / next / the forest of
birds / bottom right / a desert / next again / a precipice and a vast expanse of air // they talked
to him about their politics and plans / his ears were deafened / by the singing of a thousand
birds / they said come here and look / his eyes were blinded / by the blue expanse of air / they
took him to a house of rest / his mind was shaken / with the thunder of the waves / they
introduced him to their friends / he felt the chill wind of a desert waste // he said // I am a
king: / if you will be my slave / you can walk in my forest / swim in my ocean / sleep in my
desert / and then / I will lead you to the edge of my precipice ¶ Two notions dissipated that
elation. The first was that if loss of identity could be responsible for such a rush of joy then his real
identity, for he was beginning to suspect that he had one, must be a painful one: ¶ I am an angel / I
scream / (angels are allowed to scream) / I think that / I am pity / I am sorrow // I listen / (there
is a silence in screams) // I laugh / (angels can laugh too) / echoes of laughter // they agree /
the definition of despair / is an angel ¶ His second realiziation was that he was lost in a desert.
Because he could not remember anything prior to waking up, unless he could find a landmark or a
fenceline or a track in this uniform landscape, he would have no way of even attempting to locate
where he was. It was that fear which lent urgency to the examination of his subconscious he now
embarked on. ¶ The search for identity can be difficult even with an intact memory. It has become
popular to have a drinking mug with your name written on it; children have their names written on a
school bag or the neck tag of a jumper. The stranger had no such means of identifying himself. But,
should he have found the words “Jim Brown” written in texta colour on the outside of the hood of his
sleeping bag, would he have added to his self-knowledge? What’s in a name: a rose by any other
name smells as sweet and a turd no matter what you call it still sticks to your boots. If he had looked
in a mirror he would have noticed a small cross tattooed on his cheekbone. Perhaps that would have
jogged his memory. ¶ “What were you in for mate?” ¶ As it was, there was no mirror to ask the
question. The words “What’s your name?” kept going round and round in his head. Slowly, like a ship
emerging from a mist, a memory began to take shape in his mind. He was in a pub, in a pub in
Balmain (Balmain! Why Balmain?). A total stranger was looking intently into his eyes saying: ¶ “I bet
you ten bucks that I’ve got your name written on the end of my dick.” ¶ He could remember men,
beer glasses in hand and amused expressions on their faces standing around as he answered: ¶
“You’re on kid, I’m going to hold you to this one.” ¶ It was his pub, home territory, no stranger was
going to welch on a bet with him here. He could remember about twenty of them trooping into the
dike and the stranger hunched over in a corner with his back to them ostentatiously as he undid his

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fly. He had an awful feeling that this guy was a queer and that a nasty incident was about to take
place. The stranger spun around triumphantly like a circus clown, with his cock hanging out. There
was something tatooed near the end just above the knob. When they peered closer they could see
there were two words there. The words read – “Your Name”. He remembered going through his
pockets to find that he did not have the full ten dollars, but the difference was made up by someone
else. ¶ Your name! It means nothing. Even a face means nothing. ¶ you are a master of
disguises // I slash through them / as through so many sheets of tissue / and still I don’t see
you // you have shuffled the deck so well that / queen king jack joker / you yourself don’t
know who you are ¶ The world’s a stage and every man’s an actor. He knew it because he could
see that people wore masks. Most people that is. For instance the mother of the girl that seduced
him (or had he seduced her?) wore one. She had a clown’s or a pastry cook’s mask but underneath
he spotted that she was a witch. People were not what they appeared. And if the masks had only
been figurative ones he would not have been so terrified; his battles would not have been so intense.
¶ my visitor / comes / draped in black // we struggle / he with the splendor of darkness / I with
the remnants of youth / till I lie broken / but know I have won. // then he strides / across the
trembling plain / in the body of a giant // I gasp / in a grip of iron. / He is strong / and I puny /
but I call upon the skill / of past encounters / and though crushed / evade his hold. // yet he
comes again / dressed as a leper / in rags // diminished in strength / and with failing skill / I
flay wildly / calling for help / against club hands / display of knotted limbs / and run / panting
to my refuge. // and now / he is a bubbling cancer / feeding on my brain // his growth /
increases / as my spirit / fails me / I cry out / desperate / because I am alone / faced with
eternity / I cling to one last ray / of hope / and am left / sobbing. // now I pray / fearing he will
come again / and can hear my prayer / whispering back to me. ¶ Now this was a point that the
psychiatrist, a beautiful middle aged lady, pressed hard on. Like a dog with a bone she must have felt
she had something tangible to go on. Something to write down in her note book. Some distinction
between reality and delusion that her training had taught her was significant. She wrote down the
word “phenomenology” underlined it and added a few sentences. Once again she asked him to
explain the nature of the masks. Were they real masks she kept asking? The problem from the
stranger’s point of view was that they were real masks, he could see them, but he knew they weren’t,
he could see that too. There was no experience or analogy that he could draw on from his life
preceding these events that could possibly explain such a distinction to the lovely shrink whom he
never saw again. He saw so many other shrinks, though, even before the trial. A trial that was
complicated by the fact that the rifle had been loaded by his father himself. The stranger had not the
faintest idea how to load any rifle nor had he ever fired one. But he knew how to press a trigger and
he knew a bit of psychology; the kind of psychology the weak and defenceless learn to protect
themselves against the violent and brutish. That knowledge stood him in good stead during the trial,
though it did not keep him out of jail. ¶ It is the nature of the human personality that concerned him
now: the distinction between the outer man and the inner man. Sometime in the sixties the discovery
was made in California that the human personality was very similar to an onion. There was an outer
facade or skin, quite superficial and trivial, which if it was peeled off revealed other levels like the
layers of an onion, progressively more significant and finally when all peeled away only the core, the
real me, the essential woman, the unconscious and so on remained. These were the years when the
word “essence” gained credibility and “pseudo” became the worst thing you could say about another
human being. People, especially women, picked at themselves like lepers in search of the inner core.
Public masturbations became popular and some women burnt their bras. And it did lead to real
changes. Previously two thirds of women had an orgasm only once a week and one third never had
one at all; they were called frigid. Many men had orgasms once a week and some had them all the
time. Twenty years later there were no frigid women and one third had multiple orgasms. Two thirds
of the male population still have an orgasm once a week but the remaining third have become
impotent (more in New York) which exactly replaces the women that were frigid before. You have to
admit there is a balance in nature. What relevance has all this to the stranger’s ruminations on the
outer and inner man? None really, except that while this was going on he was still haunted by masks.
When his own layers were peeled away, or more accurately, had disintegrated, he became so
exposed that he could hear the thoughts of the people behind the masks shouting at him. He learnt
the meaning of implosion and sought refuge in psychoactive drugs. Years later another revelation
made it obvious to him, with a clarity reserved for the insane, that people are exactly what they seem
to be. You learn far more about a man by looking at his clothes, the car he drives, the house he lives

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in, the job he does, and noting whether he picks his nose or dribbles, than you do by peeling his
onions or listening to him talking about himself. Later, under the onslaught of people forever asking
him what he did for a living, as if that was the key to his soul, he modified his views again. What does
it matter to be an accountant if you cry in your bed at night? Is it more important to know that you are
a captain of industry or that you are cold and your children are loveless? ¶ The above may not be a
verbatim rendition of the stranger’s thoughts but nevertheless it is close enough to indicate the level
of refinement many years of correspondence courses had raised his language to. He was, though he
couldn’t remember it for the time being, a man with tertiary qualifications. ¶ Even as a boy he had
been a thoughful and conscientious child. He did an excellent impersonation of a dutiful son. Later he
could imitate piety, even contrition. But his crowning achievements were perfect reproductions of the
finest sentiments of man – pity, love, charity. One evening a very clever man said to him with a smile:
“Imitate yourself”. So without the slightest hesitation he did and imitation of his imitations and, heady
with success, did an impromptu imitation of that too. Late that night he followed the clever man into
the street and said: “There is one more imitation you haven’t seen”. And, quick as a flash, he
strangled the clever man. As soon as he realised that this was no longer an imitation, he knelt down,
thanked God, and prayed for the clever man’s soul. The clever man was his father. ¶ Now, lifetimes
later, and in a state of amnesia, he reached out for the beer standing on the ground a couple of feet
in front of his face. He noted with disgust that it was half-full. It had been a measure of his
degradation that he used to drink stale beer once. A practical joke at his expense played on him by a
travelling companion in similar circumstances got him out of the habit. He drank half a can of piss
without even noticing the difference. He never drank stale beer again. He climbed out of his sleeping
bag fully dressed except for his trousers and shoes. He threw the half-full can into a bluebush
(maireana pyramidata) and with the instinct of a dog went up to a mulga tree (acacia aneura) to piss
on its trunk. He could see that his urine was as clear as water and near the end of his dick he read
the words “Your Name” tattooed upside down. ¶ I will reveal no more about the stranger’s identity
than what you can deduce for yourself from the following poem: ¶ one subject for conjecture / was
an ageless man / who regularly passed through out town // against his chest / in a wire cage /
suspended by a leather belt from his neck / was a small grey songbird // each time we asked
about the caged bird / he would tell us / with a note of polite amusement in his voice / a
different story // that it was a travelling companion / and though it appeared to lack freedom /
and he seemed to have it / there was an understanding between them // or that it was in
memory / of a beautiful girl / to whom he swore to be true / but she left him // then again it was
a treasured possession / of an old widow who took ill / she asked him to look after it / and it
remained with him ever since // he said the bird reminded him of us / the cage was life /
however far he travelled / he knew to return // once he told us how in a huge city / he stopped
under a bridge where two rivers met / a river of oil shone like the rainbow / the other was red
with blood // he was the only one in that city / to wake to the morning song of a bird ¶ One
thing that I will do now is give our stranger a name. We have known him long enough to feel a
degree of familiarity with the man and it is a bit embarrassing to have to refer to him as the stranger.
It is time for us to pin our man down a little. Some ancient tribes did not have a name for God
because they believed that by giving a name to something you gained a measure of control over it.
They correctly reasoned that since God was all powerful it was not possible to have any control over
him and hence he could not have a name. When we name something we immediately impose a set
of preconceptions on the named object based on our previous experience of objects of the same
class. I hope that the reader does not prejudge the stranger simply because I give him a title. The
stranger must be named; lest he retain some magic, some mystery that might hide from us how puny
he is. I can promise you that there is nothing that he has done or will do that will make the earth
hesitate even one iota in its rotation around the axis. Yet I feel like a pregnant woman about to give
birth. Exquisite moment! There have already been secret signs and omens to presage this solemn
occurrence. There are so many names to choose from; I must compose myself before the big
event... And so I now dub him – Jim Brown. Hi Jim! ¶ ‘I prostrate myself before you, your worshipful
master, in abject humility and I wish you the very best of health for the rest of eternity.’ ‘Thanks Jim,
but I do detect a note of irreverence in your salutation. You must realize that I can read your most
secret thoughts.’ ‘It wouldn’t take a genius to work out that right now my innermost thought is how to
get out of here, your worship.’ ‘Don’t call me “your worship”. You’re not in court now.’ ‘All right, all
right, what do you want me to call you: father? master? how about just plain dad? What’s your name
anyway?’ ‘To my readers I have a name; but to you I have no name. To you I am the all powerful

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one, the one who controls your every moment, the one in whose power it is to give you a past and a
future or to deprive you of both. I can make you dance, Jim, if I feel like it. You had better call me –
Sir.’ ‘Aren’t you coming on a bit strong for a guy who gets punched up by his wife and who roots
sheep? Sir.’ ‘Hold it a bit there! I can cut you off mid stream, mate, if you get too cocky. I can see that
those correspondence courses didn’t prepare you for sophisticated literature. When I said I fuck
sheep I didn’t really mean it. I wouldn’t want my readers to think that I’m weird or something. Apart
from being a certified lunatic I’m as normal as the next bloke. I could just as easily have said I screw
ducks, or I bite the heads off chickens. It’s just an expression, mate. Go back and do a
correspondence course in modern literature. I’m not about to take cheek from someone with a
tatooed dick.’ ‘Okay, okay, you put that tattoo there, O powerful one, while I was asleep. So you can’t
hold it against me. If you control my every move then you have to accept responsibility for the tattoo
too. That’s what I say to the girls anyway when I shove your name up ’em.’ ‘I can see, Jim, that you
are not going to accept responsibility for your actions. If you’re going to blame me for your faults I
hope you give me credit for the good things you do. By the way, how is your sex life? That tattoo
must be a real turn-off with the girls.’ ‘It turns more on than it turns off, don’t you worry. I’d appreciate
it if you kept my sex life right out of it, like you told your readers that you would. I’d like at least one
area in my life to be free of your interference.’ ‘You’re quite right I did tell my readers I would keep
your sex life out of it. But I also told them I am subject to whim and fancy and reserve the right to
amend, modify, refute, change, turn upside down, cheat, deny and do anything else I like. You see,
Jim, I am the author. I can do what I like. I can tell you to get lost.’ ‘You don’t fool me with that getting
lost bit. You can’t let me die or you wouldn’t have a story. You’ve put too much into me to do away
with me just like that. Without me you’re nothing. You need me at least as much as I need you. In
fact I don’t think I need you at all.’ ‘You do, you really do. And Jim, I never said I wasn’t going to write
about your sex life. That was the guy in Mallacoota I was talking about. I haven’t told you yet whether
you dreamt him or he dreamt you. Your sex life is fair game for me, mate.’ ‘Some almighty you are.
I’ve just caught you out in a contradiction: first you say you won’t reveal my sex life, then you reckon
it’s fair game. At least don’t tell them about the time I did it wombat fashion.’ ‘I won’t. It’s precisely
that kind of thing that makes me hesitate to reveal your sex life. Certain things are best left in the
closet. That particular position, by the way, is not listed either in the “Kamasutra” or “The 1001
Variations For The Young Catholic Pervert”.’ ‘Don’t tell them about that black dog at the outstation
either. The driver knew about it; that’s why he slept on the tray of the truck. How was I to know that
dog was a masochist. The more I hit him with the two-be-four, the worse he got. I reckon he must
have been trained by Freddy Tree.’ ‘You’re getting ahead of yourself, Jim. Freddy Tree hasn’t come
into the story yet. I’ll tell you what I will tell them about, only in the interest of science of course, and
that’s about the time in Canberra you presented yourself at casualty with a bottle stuck up your arse.’
‘You wouldn’t. Please! Tell them something I’m proud of like the time I did me hamstring making love
to the female wood-chopping champion. How could I look your readers in the eye with a story like
that hanging over me. I’d locked the keys in the shed, all I was doing was climbing in through the
window when me foot slipped. I never even saw the coke bottle on the window ledge. It was on of
those freak accidents like I told the doctor.’ ‘ With no pants on, Jim.’ ‘It was a hot night.’ ‘That still
leaves the small matter of the condom on the end of the bottle.’ ‘Aids, mate, aids. Somebody put it
there. Everyone’s scared of aids now.’ ‘Okay Jim, I’ll accept that. I notice your memory is beginning
to return.’ ‘Only in bits and pieces mate. That episode in Balmain bothers me. Doesn’t ring true. And
yet I’ve got a feeling that Balmain is important to me. What’s special about Balmain?’ ‘Well, apart
from the fact that’s where Neville Wran came from, the dog turds for a start. There’s more dog turds
per square metre of footpath there than in London. It’s not the dogs’ fault either: everything is cement
down there and there are just too many dogs.’ ‘Why don’t they get rid of them?’ ‘The lesbians Jim.
Can’t you remember anything. They’ve all shifted from Rozelle to Balmain. They control the council
now.’ ‘What the hell have the lesbians got to do with it? They’re not pooping on the footpath.’ ‘But
their dogs are. No self-respecting kike goes anywhere without at least two big dogs; usually an
alsation and a bull-terrier. A small suburb like Balmain can’t take so many dogs. Did you know that
they’re the main buyers of pit bull terriers? They train them to kill men. I feel sorry for the school kids.
Everytime you see a group going on an excursion there’s one or two lagging behind scraping dog
from his instep with an icypole stick or something. They should make Spike Milligan mayor of
Balmain, he’d soon clean it up. He’s president of the no-dogs-in-cities society you know. He reckons
he can skate from one end of London to the other on dog turds. He’d make those kikes carry pooper
scoopers like they do in New York.’ ‘Strange. Doesn’t ring a bell any of that. Maybe that memory

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belongs to the other guy: the one whose dreaming me; or am I dreaming him?’ ‘You were drunk a lot
in Balmain. No wonder your memory is sketchy. We’d better sort out who’s dreaming who otherwise
you wont know if you’re Arthur or Martha. You understand, Jim, that if your aunty had a beard, she’d
be your uncle.’ ‘I am only a character in a book, your worship, a mere figment of your imagination,
with only a limited intelligence. I once kissed the pope’s ring because no one told me I was supposed
to kiss his hand. You should have seen his cardinals – their eyes popped out like dog balls. I can tell
that your sayings have great depth but cannot understand them in words. Would you be kind enough
to explain yourself a little?’ ‘Yes, Jim, I will. I had a dream, Jim:’ ¶ where I thought that God / faced
with eternity / timelessness / the impotence of omnipotent power / made the world / in seven
days and seven nights // because He was restless // and so it was that we were created / in the
image of God / each and all a part of Him / and He, transformed / by an act of will, into you and
me // now He can rest / limited by time / restricted by deformity / He can dispense pity / for He
lives through the dying / the wretchedness of children neglected / the diseased pervert / the
hapless mother / the blood of war // we understand // and we remember that fool / who
thought he knew God / and cried out aloud / “Oh God! Oh God! / Why hast thou forsaken
me?” / Had he forgotten that we were part of him / and he was part of us? / Didn’t he know
that we wanted none of / his god? // we can rest because we understand // He can smile /
because He has played this game long enough / and when He wakes / rested by a dream / of
seven days and seven nights / He can return to the vacuum / from whence he came / pray for
me. ¶ (“I had a dream….@ Monday 15/6/09….obscure book”) ¶ in the city / Jesus came
by two blind men // the blind men heard / from the noise of the crowd / that the prophet from
Nazareth was near / and one of them called out // Lord / you can give back my sight, / and
immediately he was cured // the other man listened to the crowd marvel / at the power and
charity of Jesus / and he said to himself // Lord / thy will be done / and he remained blind //
and so it was / in every city ¶ Such are the motions of giant minds Jim. If truth be known I can’t
detect any difference between you and me. So don’t call me “dad”, mate, even though the bible does
say that god’s relationship to man is as a father’s to a son. Besides I don’t like the way you treated
yours. I’ve got an idea that as you’re made in my image there is no bloody way you’re going to be
more stupid than me. I’m going to give up the idea of controlling you and just let you go your way. So
finish straining the spuds, put away the pet snake, and let’s get on with the story.” (“As Jim zipped
up his fly…. Friday 30/4/04….I was a tourist myself once.”) That was after my family
disowned me because I didn’t measure up to their criteria of a successful human being but long
before I met my defacto, who by the way is not twenty years older than I am. I only said that to get
back at her for calling me a shithead. Actually she is the same age as me and only looks twenty
years older because of the hard life she’s had. She never had a chance to develop a healthy self-
concept coming as she does from a binuclear family in a disadvantaged suburb. Other contributors to
her arrested personal and social development have been the sexual harrassment she’s had to
endure by virtue of being a woman and the intolerance she’s lived with all her life because she is part
aboriginal; not that you’d ever guess from her grey eyes and red hair. Every grain of self-esteem and
personal development has been achieved by her in the face of a hostile environment. I was the best
thing that happened to her because I’m the only person in the world, apart from her mother, whom
she despises more than herself. That’s given her self-assurance that she never had before although
the assertiveness classes and the ‘How to say No’ course she did with adult education helped also.
Now that her father has died from cirrhosis she has also been able, with the help of the local
women’s support group, to work through her incest experiences. ¶ When I think about my own sex
life I know that the old geezer has a lot to answer for. My parents weren’t much help either. Can you
believe that I have never seen either my mother’s or my father’s knees? My mother always wears a
black dress and long black stockings because of some relative that died while they were still back in
Greece and my father wouldn’t be seen dead in shorts. I can tell by the shocked expressions on their
faces when people kiss on TV that anything to do with the body or sex is abhorrent to them. When I
was a kid I only heard the word love used in a purely manipulative way like “how could you do such
and such to me when I love you so much?” by my mother, or “I’m going to have to give you a hiding
son even though I love you” by my father. Money was what they never stopped talking about; how
much money they spent on our education and how much we would all earn when we became brain
surgeons. You can understand what a shock it was to them once it sank in that I was destined to be
a pauper. I can’t even afford a haircut. With the price my hairdresser charges I expect to get a
crewcut, a shave, a vasectomy and a frontal lobotomy. The real reason I visit my parents so often is

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because I score a free feed and I love to see the way it aggravates the old man. ¶ You can probably
tell from all this that I wasn’t conceived in the normal sexual manner. In fact I was a virgin birth. But
rather than be negative about it I like to think of it as putting me in unique company and bestowing on
me the awesome responsibility of living life with a special integrity. ¶ and suppose // that one old
and very wise fish / as he floated slowly, suspended / among the caverns of his life / breathing
oxygen freely given / by the garden of moss and weeds / feeding on the bread that rained /
like manna from his fishbowl sky / became aware, in the garden of his mind / that every
trembling, every darting fish / however small / left a ripple on his soul, / and the garden that
fed him freely / freely took the food he gave, / till suddenly he knew he was only / one small
link / in an everlasting chain // and then // with the glassy eye of age / he saw the hand / that
dropped the manna from the skies // what could he say to / the suffering and the blind? / what
could he say / to the dying and the dead? / what would he say / to the boisterous school of
fish he ruled? / I am old and cannot teach you how to dance / I must do my rounds in the
confines of the bowl / the dancer dances to a song we barely hear / the hand that feeds you
dances in the sky ¶ Jim Brown wasn’t born in the normal manner either. I like to think of him as
having arrived by budding. This explains the even greater degree of intimacy between him and me
than is usual for an author and his character. With a virgin birth and a birth by budding you can see
the kind of problem I face to include sufficient sexual content to tittilate the appetite of your
contemporary reader. Not to worry though, together with Freud I firmly believe that sex can be found
anywhere. You take a train ride through a subway, you go wading through the water at the sea
shore: two different kinds of sexual experience according to the great shrink! For me, it’s the
language: ¶ while all / other creatures / remain stutterers / in the womb of / the Word / an
infants bones grew silently / till finally / the vagina of language / opened / to give birth to / man
// as each word / grew / the language grew // the rider in the golden horde was carried by / a
spear / the hand of the mighty viking was held by / a sword / it became a fishing rod / on the
shores of the aegean, / the hand of the prophet was supported by / a staff // just as there is no
language / without man / there is no soul / without language // Time / weaves its web / to bind /
the language, man and soul ¶ And here are a few more comments on the same topic: ¶ the womb
of many nations / labours over a million years / to give birth to language / professors and
cretins in village and city / make their contributions / to the definition / of every word // when
in some future age / the galactic hero of science fiction / lands on earth / he may report to his
superiors that / the empty ant hill / final cultural product of generations / of ceaselessly
labouring workers / is the soul of the ants // and after emerging / from the echoing vaults of a
library / he may conclude that language / is the intangible soul of mankind // both the mound
and the word / products of a mysterious purpose / which their teeming labourers / could never
have known ¶ Freud was right. Notice how easy it was to bring wombs and even a vagina into what
deserves to be a dry and scholarly topic. Here are three more little poems just to show you that I can
do better: ¶ language is / the whore of babylon // she is not satisfied / with the impotence / of a
gaudy peacock / she despises the antics of / chattering monkeys / not for her the tedious /
mountings of the bull / the thrusting stallion / fails to satisfy her greed // she tolerates no
favourites / all must come to her embrace // the king / must kneel to kiss her feet / while
caliban / enters the mount of love ¶ ¶ it was not men / that built the tower of babel / but
language // though beautiful / she was old / her womb was barren / so she sported naked in
the fields / by the city // because in her loneliness / no man could satisfy her greed / she lay
there wanton / till men of all nations had entered the / hungering vagina of her love // and now
that she is heavy with seed / no one knows if her child / be demon or angel // when the day / of
labour comes will the father / dare be present // or will / the child be born / alone ¶ ¶ gipsy
girl / you are mistress / of intercourse / with words // you have felt / the probings of the
sensualist / you know the caress of princes / the slavering of servants / the mastery of kings /
and still / at nights you come to me ¶ (“Let’s progress to some real sex….@ Wednesday
23/3/05….A new chapter in my life had begun.” & “I am suffering from acute
indecision….@ Monday 14/2/05….you’ll just have to learn to accept that.”) ¶ Long, long
ago, when condoms were still called frangers and people spoke disrespectfully of queers, Jim Brown
finished eating his pie and crossed a dusty road into the White Cliffs hotel. Shaky, Steve, Freddy and
a couple of others were in a group against the wall at one end of the bar no doubt discussing the mail
run and the state of the tracks. The other end of the bar was occupied by three tourists sitting on
stools. Jim knew that the rest of the bus group would at this very time be wandering about in the

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mullock heaps and dugouts of the Blocks area as was their custom looking for chips of opal and
brazenly inspecting the dugouts and their occupants as if they were zoo animals. On more than one
occasion Jim’s own privacy had been rudely invaded by tourists walking right into his dugout totally
unannounced and then looking at him quizzically as if the burden of an explanation rested with him,
the owner. ¶ Not that his dugout was calculated to inspire respect. He could hardly blame some of
them for making the mistake of thinking that it was part of the landscape rather than a home – an
abandoned mine, perhaps. It consisted basically of two parallel shafts driven horizontally into a stony
hillside joined underground by a narrow connecting tunnel. The connecting shaft which was only just
wide enough to accommodate his ricketty and rusty tubular steel bed with a lumpy kapok mattress
was entered by an archway only four feet high edged with jagged rocks. A rock the size of a brick
would occasionally fall out with a thud in the middle of the night but Jim was not prepared to gouge
out these and other areas of rock in the cave as all that happened was that the new surface would
dry out, craze and the same problem reassert itself worse than before. There were nights when he
would look up at the rocks a few feet above his face as he lay on his cot and wonder if he wouldn’t be
better off wearing his miner’s safety helmet to bed. But such minor anxieties assailed him only on
those very rare occasions when he went to bed almost sober, and then only as remote possibilities.
Usually he slept deeply, snug in a rocky womb. His bedroom was so insulated from the outside that if
the doors to the two main shafts were closed he could not discern any movement in the air and the
dust on the floor lay undisturbed half an inch thick like an extravagantly oppulent carpet. Even the
most dramatic changes of temperature or weather outside did not register in the cave. He slept with
the security that came from the knowledge that neither weather nor evil spirits could penetrate his
inner sanctum. To a degree these considerations were true for many of the dugouts: there were no
wooden frames that creaked with changes in temperature, no tin roofs that drummed in the rain, no
ceilings for possums to gallop about in. Jim’s bedroom, however, was particularly snug. On one
occasion having crawled through his hole dead drunk in the middle of the night after a brilliant blue
day, he woke in the afternoon of the next day to discover when he went to the toilet, which was like
most toilets in White Cliffs built over a vertical shaft a few yards outside the dugout, that there was a
tremendous storm raging outside. It rained for three days while Jim lay in his cot – snug as a bug in a
rug. ¶ The fact is that even by the standards of those days Jim’s was a very basic dugout. Compared
to today’s upper-crust efforts on Smith’s Hill where superannuees and business types from Adelaide
and Melbourne excavate palatial caves with all the mod-cons of the big city only to leave them locked
up for most of the year and then try to sell them at huge prices to others like themselves, his cave
was no more than a hole. He had bought it for $200 from Fred Seely who had become nervous of the
snakes that had established themselves in and around the dugout. The snakes were King Browns, or
Mulga snakes as they are called in some places, and were plentiful among the mullock heaps. Many
square miles of vertical shafts and mullock heaps stretched all the way to the horizon from the Blocks
area. The shafts are so close to each other that from the air the whole area looks like the surface of a
crumpet. The first wet year after the seven-year drought led to an enormous plague of fat green frogs
which bred in the shafts and then spread out among the mullock heaps and dugouts. They rested by
day in any small hole or crevice they could find coming out at night to hunt for insects. A second wet
year ensured that their numbers increased even further, and they were joined by an ever increasing
horde of mice both of the house variety and the hopping kind. The third year was fairly dry but by
then there was enough food around for the shingle-backs and jew lizards which were becoming
plentiful. The jew lizards had a practice of standing at the very top of a mullock heap with neck
outstretched bobbing their heads at intervals as if sending messages in code. When the following
year was wet again nature went berserk. Wild pigs roamed about what had previously been the stony
gibber plains surrounding White Cliffs. Emus walked about in stately flocks. The wild goats looked
sleek and fat. One fat billy goat managed to get into the pub toilet where he slipped and broke a leg.
Jim’s toilet was full of red-backs. Swarms of locusts appeared out of nowhere. And so did the King
Brown snakes. Jim was sitting on a bench car seat next to one of the entrances to his cave, beer can
in hand, observing a lizard sunning itself on a rock when, with one stike at the speed of lightning, the
lizard was swallowed up by a King Brown which unbeknown to Jim had been lurking nearby. The
snake then proceeded to head towards the entrance to the cave and was only dissuaded from going
in by Jim throwing some pebbles at it. Nevertheless snakes did manage to breed inside the cave as
he later discovered when he found several babies in a plastic box full of pots and pans under the
table in his kitchen. He regretted then that he had allowed Freddy Tree to talk him into shooting the
voracious cats that had come with the dugout. Fred Sealy had encouraged the cats to live there in

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the belief that if they were not fed they would keep the place free of snakes. Jim had found them a
nuisance for they were opportunistic and rapacious thieves finding their way to any food that was not
locked away. The only secure place he had to hide it was in the kerosene fridge which usually was
so cold that everything inside froze solid. Freddy had assured him that once the cats were gone he
would be able to hunt the snakes out with one of his dogs which was supposed to be a great snake
dog. The dog was very excited and found evidence of snakes everywhere but didn’t catch a single
one. The reason being that there were just too many nooks and crannies, small holes which when
excavated turned into large ones and joined other tunnels filled with rubble a generation earlier. The
Blocks area was the first area mined in White Cliffs long before the first world war and as well as the
visible shafts the hills were honeycombed with old tunnels that had later been partially or wholly filled
in. ¶ As I say, Jim’s dugout was no palace. If he had been prepared to level the walls and spray them
with silicon or even just whitewash them, they would not have dried out and cracked up. If he had
also concreted the floor he would have solved his dust problem. But he did not have either the
enterprise or the desire for domestic finesse. He liked his home exactly as it was and felt that it
complemented his own derelict condition. The shaft that contained his kitchen equipment, table,
kerosene fridge, two 100lb. gas cylinders and gas cooker, assorted boxes of equipment and mining
gear, also had half a dozen forty four gallon drums which were stored here, out of sight, till the
owners who shall remain unnamed, felt safe enough to cash them in. They were heavy gauge drums
and worth a bit of money. They could also be used for water storage. If a drum was to be used for
water it first had to be cleaned, which was done by half filling it with water and plenty of detergent
and leaving it in the back of a ute to be driven around for a few months. That’s how his water drum,
just outside the kitchen door, had been cleaned. On top of the drum he had a very old heavy metal
baby’s bath which he used to wash his clothes, pots and pans, and very rarely himself. The other
shaft, running parallel to the kitchen and connected to it by the tiny bedroom, was Jim’s pride and joy.
This was his guest room. There were only two main items in here: a double bed spring base covered
with a piece of tarp and, of all things, a superb wood stove. It wasn’t the only wood stove in White
Cliffs but it was probably the best one. Jim was inspired by it not only to roast emu, goat meat,
kangaroo and wild pig but on several occasions he even baked bread. It came out too. He had
excavated an extension so that it was comfortably roomy. A few candles were placed in strategic
nooks in the wall and three or four kerosene drums were used for extra seating. The room could be
used comfortably by four men to drink or play cards sprawled out on the bed base. But most of all
Jim enjoyed sitting on the bed drinking a stubby by himself staring into the fire through the sliding
doors of the fire-box. Sometimes instead of going into his cot between the shafts he would simply
place the empty stubby on the floor by his feet, lean back on the tarp and go to sleep. When he
originally bought the dugout the front wall of this shaft consisted of sheets of corrugated iron in the
middle of which was a wooden frame which held a door. Jim removed the iron sheeting and made a
wall out of cemented stubbies. The stubby wall cast a serene churchlike yellow light into the room. A
couple of yards outside the door grew a small but healthy peppercorn tree. If he had fallen asleep on
the tarp and left the door open he would wake in the morning to a brilliant sun streaming into the
doorway through branches of the pepper tree and beyond it an endless vista stretching away
between the Blocks area and Terlie’s Hill to the horizon. ¶ Jim placed himself strategically midway
between the local mob and the three tourists. As I said before, all this took place long ago in
dreamtime, where there was still no beer on tap at the pub. The visitors, two pert young ladies and
between them a well dressed middle aged male who looked like an accountant or a flunky, drank
from stubbies (19/7/10. Now th@   Ot proi onli kann t ); the natives drank from glasses which
they filled from bottles standing on the bar. A mathematically gifted one from among them had
worked out that the cheapest beer per fluid ounce was bought in full size bottles; the only
disadvantage being that on a hot day the last glass from the bottle was flat and warm. This of course
was not a problem to a really fast drinker. Even the slow-coaches could prevent the remaining beer
from going flat by laying a match a third of the way across the open neck of the bottle. Jim got a
stubby because with memories of his past returning to his conscious mind he was in a mood to
distance himself from his friends. He was also hoping that the busty girl nearest him might start up a
conversation giving an excuse to come closer so that he could bask in the warmth of her feminine
ambience. Even from where he stood he could now and then detect a hint of exotic city perfumes
and his imagination reeled to the possibilities of the girl’s thick mane of black hair. As he lifted his
stubby to his mouth and caught sight of the innumerable scabs and scars that covered his hands and
fingers he was reminded of the gulf that separated him from both the tourists and his own past. The
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scars were caused by innumerable falls, trips, tumbles and rolls over, across, onto and down the
endless mullock heaps surrounding White Cliffs. The jagged stones and pebbles from the mines
treated drunks unkindly. Even if there had been no mining much of the surrounding country consisted
of gibber plain but the gibbers at least were smoothed by countless years of erosion. He noticed with
approval that none of the scars were actually bleeding and none of the scabs were prematurely torn
away. He attributed this healthy state of affairs to the trip up north on the mail run. That country being
sandy was kinder to the hands of drunks. He returned his attention to the visitors who were now
being regaled by Smithy, the temporary barman, who was just as smitten by the girls as Jim was. In
fact all the men in the town were affected this way by female travellers. Smithy was busy telling them
how the previous summer the temperature in the bar had reached 120ºF and the patrons were
fainting like flies, but the good dugouts have never got above 80ºF. He was so engrossed with them
that he was ignoring the regular clientele and getting on Jim’s nerves as his stubby was empty.
Finally Jim broke into their chatter to ask for another beer and the three travellers all turned towards
him. But when Smithy went to get the stubby it was the male companion who got up and came
around to stand between Jim and the girls. ¶ ‘Hullo, we’re just here for a couple of days. Nice day
isn’t it?’ ‘Sure is.’ ‘I suppose you get a lot of weather like this here. We’ve just come from Broken Hill.
We’ll be heading back to Sydney tomorrow. You’ve got a great little town here. Wouldn’t mind staying
longer myself. Hear you’ve had a lot of rain recently.’ ‘That’s true. Third wet year out of four.’ ‘You
from here then? What do you do for a living?’ ¶ Jim’s jaw dropped in amazement and he put his
stubby down on the bar. No one had asked him that question in years. There was an unspoken rule
in the back country, and especially here, that you never asked questions about a man’s past or his
private life. The truth is that Jim didn’t know with any certainty who he was let alone what he did for a
living. For an instant he was overcome by an urge to say: ‘I bet you $10 that I’ve got your name
written on the end of my dick.’ But he resisted the temptation. ¶ The point is that by asking that crass
question so bluntly the visitor had unwittingly reasserted the enormity of the gulf that separated his
world from that of Jim’s. He was clearly a representative of another kind of thinking, a kind where
people could be numbered and placed in mutually exclusive categories. This accountant’s world was
no doubt one where clear delineations were to be made between subject and object, where ledgers
were kept and human beings might even be ranked according to a scale such as their income or the
length of their holidays. ¶ I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing / than teach a thousand
stars how not to dance. ¶ It would be easy for me now to whip myself up into a fulminating rage
and call that inquisitive fellow a cockroach and a masturbator; it’s the sort of thing I’m in the habit of
doing anyway. Instead I’ll take the harder course and point out to you the habits of thought
responsible for perverting his mind. Habits that you may recognize in yourself. Sure he was an air-
head, but he wasn’t a dingbat. ¶ For a start how was he to know that virtually no one in this town
apart from about six genuine miners did anything for a living. The saying was that you went mining in
the pub. Everyone here had a claim but to spend more than a couple of days a month working it was
unusual. It had been like that since before the first world war. There wasn’t enough opal left for
profitable mining. Jim could easily have said to the accountant that he was mining opal but this man
would then have drawn all kinds of unwarranted conclusions about how much work he did, how much
income he earned and how much tax he evaded, and therefore how he compared in importance to
an engineer or a council worker and how much time he had to go on holidays and so on. He would
never have understood that the mining was all done in the pub and there was no spare time left for
holidays. Jim did not do anything for a living: he lived without excuses. ¶ The idea that the important
things in life can be measured is a product of scientific conceit. We have the ridiculous situation
where modern couples calculate to the last hour how much time each partner spends working,
minding the baby, washing the dishes and so on to make sure that they are making an equal
contribution to the partnership. This kind of nit-picking turns people into emotional midgets. None of
the important things people contribute to each other in marriage is measurable. How do you measure
humour? How do you measure a woman’s warmth? How do you measure a sense of adventure? ¶
When my defacto’s dad was dying from emphysema they had him in a ward with a dozen other old
blokes and he thought, since by then his mind had cracked, that he was in a hotel. ¶ ‘This is a great
little pub’, he kept on saying’. ¶ A week before he died his oxygen level dropped, his blood count
was terminal and his heart, according to the machines, became erratic. The nurses read the figures
from the dials and the rules of the hospital said that when you get those numbers you go into
intensive care. So they put him in the intensive care room which was painted a brilliant white and
didn’t have a single picture on the walls and no windows, where he was by himself wired up like a

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guinea pig. And they kept him there like that until he died. When his daughter visited him he was
saying: ‘Get me out of this box. They’ve made a mistake. I’m not dead yet.’ ¶ I know, if my wife’s
women’s support group is to be believed, that the old bugger was a child molester and all the rest of
it. But he had survived eighty years in this vale of tears. After all that at the very end of his life did he
really deserve to be tortured for a whole week just because of the numbers on some dials? Such is
the tyranny of numbers. ¶ There is a false promise in numbers too. A mathematician can count but
does he know any better how to turn a precious jewel into a gaudy bird, a rose into a beautiful
woman, a bracelet into stars or make a song from the soul of a child? ¶ Jim explained to the visitor
with some patience that there were no ‘locals’ here. The men at the other end of the bar came from
places like Venezuela, Morocco, Roma, Mildura and the Third Reich. Of the two hundred inhabitants
only one was born within a hundred miles of here and he was born in Wilcannia, sixty-five miles
away. Their only occupation was drinking. ¶ The persistent visitor’s next question was: ‘Where did
you come from originally?’ ¶ As if it mattered! ¶ And yet Jim was sensitive on that topic. He kept the
side of his face with the tattoo averted from the visitor. Years later he would have to use powerful
detergents and the latest in laser technology to get rid of that tiny cross. What’s in a man’s past? It
tells you about his present or his future only if he leads a life that is boring and predictable; like the
accountant’s own perhaps. The origins of the citizens of the town of White Cliffs had no common
factor: there was nothing in their past to indicate that they would later all become troglodytes. His
recent struggle with amnesia added to Jim’s feelings of vulnerability. How would the visitor take it if
he found out that Jim was a product of parthenogenesis? ¶ Undeterred by sensitivity the traveller
persisted. Every question had the aim of placing Jim into a conceptual pigeon hole which would allow
the traveller to totally dismiss him from his mind as soon as he got back on the bus. Finally Jim gave
in and told him the story of his life: except that it wasn’t really the story of his life but the story of the
life of Mallacoota Man. ¶ (“An explanation is in order….@ Monday 14/2/05….control their
yarns: it is too unruly for that.” & “He stood up. He had almost dozed off but the chill in
the air….@ Sunday 5/12/04…. just covered the cost of his burial.” & “Mallacoota Man
stood up. The possum, bleary eyed ….@ Tuesday 15/2/05…. credit for his physical
courage.”) ¶ That’s more than you can say for those bags of shit that get their kicks by messing
around with drugs and substances. Do you know that most kids start doing drugs while they are still
living with their parents? When they go down that path they have already decided for the sake of big-
noting themselves to their friends they will be disloyal in the most hurtful way it is possible to be.
Since they have no money of their own they have to buy their pathetic powders and pills with the
money their parents give them or make available to them by providing them with free bed and board.
So not only do they make their parents watch them turn themselves into sleeze-bags but they make
the parents pay them to do it. Before they become addicts, for believe me it’s not easy to become an
addict, they have already been lying and cheating for so long they don’t know there is such a thing as
truth and honour and have made it impossible for their parents to ever have a relationship with them
or believe them again. It wouldn’t be so bad if these kids pulled up stakes and left home to go and
get jobs up north or on the Nullabor – and then fried their brains. But they’re too piss weak, too
spineless, too incompetent to do that. They stay at home and screw their parents till they turn grey
because their parents are made susceptible by loyalty and concern. If they finally get kicked out they
go begging and simpering to their grandmother whom they cheat out of their pension money because
they know they are too old, too fragile and too loving to defend themselves even against maggots. ¶ I
saw my wife, I mean my former wife before I moved in with my defacto, age ten years in two years. I
watched her turn grey; I watched her become smaller, shrink a little. I can’t think about it without
crying. If I wasn’t sustained by my hatred I think I would die. I can’t forgive him for that – I’m talking
about my son of course. ¶ Now … a stubby later, and having wound down a bit, let me get back to
Mallacoota Man. In seeking his thrills in the way he did he at least employed all his faculties. His
experience was thus qualitatively superior, more dramatic, more profound, and for that matter more
honourable, than your pathetic addict surrounded by his bits of silver paper, little plastic bags,
syringes and his squalid treacheries. He fries a small corner of his brain with chemicals and in the
process kills his mother, his grandmother, maybe his sister and anyone else in proportion to how
much they love him. His reward will be that one day he will end up in an institution, a drug
rehabilitation centre or maybe just a nut house, where in exchange for a whole lot of bullshit about
traumatic experiences in his childhood he will be given a language for avoiding responsibility for what
he has done: a language of excuses. This is not to say that he has not been a victim of traumatic
experiences. I did bully him, and I did traumatize him. I am hard and cruel, especially to the small and

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the defenceless. But is there anyone walking this sorry earth who has not had to live with terror and
trauma somewhere in his life? And how long do I have to suffer to expiate my guilt? (“My gentle
lord / protector….@ Tuesday 15/2/05…. stillness / I listen.”) I’ll tell you what: he will have
another reward: the contempt of his brothers, and the searing heat of my hatred. ¶ How did you take
that last bit? Did I get you in? That was me trying to project myself imaginatively into my father’s
shoes. I do that sort of thing a lot to practice my sensitivity so I can better empathise with others. I
think I’m making progress too – I feel better all the time. (“I have allowed myself though, to
stray from the topic….@ Tuesday 15/2/05….mistakes forever.” & “Dear reader, what a
wonderful opportunity to launch into deep philosophy…. @ Tuesday 5/4/05….How
different a journey that is or was or could be to my own.” & “Meanwhile in a parallel
universe or alternatively….@ Saturday 30/4/05….Meanwhile, Mallacoota Man is
struggling to make it to first base.” & “Meanwhile, Mallacoota Man is struggling….@
Tuesday 13/9/05 ….Depo Provera soon put an end to that.” & “Dear readers, moral
bigots of Melbourne, media freaks….@ Sunday 5/12/04….myths in bush lore.” & “The
car that pulled up to give Jim a lift….@ Tuesday 13/9/05….and the brownies have taken
over the streets.” & “Meanwhile, once upon a time or never.… @ Saturday 9/7/05….¶¶
THE END ¶¶ ). So thr!!))). He sez he wants thm 2 b buried 2gthr. A bit 2 th sth @ th nxt koast kcess
out of Poonindie I got torkn 2 a kupl hoo wer leadn horsez wth very nusual saddlz. It turns out they
wer ‘western’ saddlz they had ght in merika 4 $4000 (t they paid GST in oz) each. Th saddlz
hav a lifetime grantee & @ th price so they shld. In Port Lincoln I read th ppr ovr a bad koffee, ght
2 mngos & 2 vkados, got a piece of &2 , 2 stubbies & → Lincoln National Park whch iz th
most sthrly part of th Eyre pnnnsla. I broke a longst&n rule of mine & put a $6.50 fee ↓ slot @ th park
ntry – th@s 4 1 day but Ill b here longr. Th spot Im @ iz kalld Spalding kove & itz 18ks ← th g8. Only
1 of th uthr sites iz kkupied & thr r mor sites on th uthr side of a small headl& whr I kan hav kmplet
privcy if I want. Im in mobile fone range so 2nght I kan O H. 6 hrs or so of →n ystrdy gave m th 1st
good nghts sleep Iv had. Im O 2 eat 1 of th mngos & go 4 a stroll.
13/2/05 (10/2/05 – 18/2/05 (no 54)). Last nght woz nuthr good 1. Dremt O domstk
trvia (itz 9.50 am & a famly hav rrived) & travln. Th sound of th oshion woz soothn. Th nly thing betr
wood hav bn a deep dreamlss sleep whr u wake up ftr 12 hourz feeln az if u kood walk 100 kz whch
iz quite nlike my sual 4m whr I m thinkn or dreamn Im thinkn thingz like 4 xmpl th@ verythn, vry
word, lready kntainz th thingz nxt 2 it (its kntxt) or @ least its pposit. U knot knceiv of how u
kood 4m th notion of a kolor wthout th kolorz O it. No kolor kan xist x tslf wthout @ leest th
mmry of uthr kolorz. Blak lredy kntainz white. A kreeture born 2 prptual nght hoo haz nevr cn
a sunrize haz no kncept of day - but neethr duz he hav 1 of nght. U knot c wthout havn 1ce bn
blind. U knot say sumptn ‘iz’ wthout lso sayn it ‘iz not’. If u say AB iz (or =s or iz = 2 or iz th
same az or iz 2 b treetd az) BA u r lso sayn they r dffrnt (same if u say (A+B)d = Ad +2AB +
Bd). Its why u wood nevr say A = A. W say “This iz That” bkoz a greemnt needz 2 b 4ged O
how w must akt in th face of dffrnce (or FLUX). W hav no need 2 say “This iz This”. In th kase
of AB iz BA th dffrnce iz in th rrangemnts whch w do not llow 2 nfluence th nd rzult of th
kompt8n w per4m. In th kase of “This iz That” it may b w in dffrnt drektions, or r lookn @
dffrnt prspktivz of it . U mght say 2 your nghbr this tree iz az hgh az th@ 1 bkoz bein blind he duznt
no or if he iznt bkoz u hav mesured thm. Th dffrnce iz hiz blindnss or hiz lack of geomtry 2 do th
kalkl8n. Whn w say sumptn ‘iz’ w pleed 4 greemnt (synkrniz8n) in th face of dffrnce in ordr 2
ovrkum it.. Itz our way of mastern KAOS. All wordz r nstrktionz 4 ktionz (sum very small, trvial &
humli8n 1z in th modrn knomeez) 2 b per4md. W 4gt th rliest greemnts bkoz they bkum bskured x l8r
1z & w think of thm az morl lorz or n@rl 1z & if they r stil mor ncient (4/3. ie dun @ th levl of
molkulez) w say they r fakts or bjeckts (NB. This dskshion iz rdktionst bkoz lnguage (25/2. in a letr I
got 2day F+L klaim DERRIDA (1930-2004) “contends that to name a thing is to do violence to
the thing named”. Iz th@ in ‘G atology’? How violnt duz th@ make us! In th pssage F+L r rfrn 2
(‘Danyo Reserve’ p3) I m mplyin a dstnktion whch I 1nt 2 rtain btween mesurin & namin (26/2. in nswr
2 your ? “are there things which are not measurable?” it dpndz on th meenn u hav givn 2
‘thingz’. If x ‘thingz’ u meen nly what iz tangibl then th ? bkumz “r thr mesurabl thingz whch r not
mesurabl?” 2 whch th nswr iz - NO. But if x ‘thingz’ u meen a wider domain (28/2. but what kood u or
ny1 b meenn x it?) th nswr iz - YES. ie your ? haz a g @kl prolbm whch kant (or knot) b rzolvd (or
rzovld). A betr way 2 hghlght th prolbm iz 2 say: whr th meenn of a word (name, term, label) iz a m@r

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4 dsput8n (eg: ‘poetree’, ‘happynss’, ‘lonelinss’ (Dr Flood in 2dayz Age (p4) haz mpov-rsht th wordz
meenn & rzolvd dsput8n x rstriktn it 2 meen ‘alone’), ‘luv’, ‘kindnss’, ‘muzik’, ‘god’, ‘justice’, ‘phlosphy’,
‘science’, ‘reezn’, ‘histry’, etc etc) w kant mesure 4 az long az w kant find knsensuz. But thr r lso
wordz hooz meennz w kan gree on but 4 whch w kant find a mesure (ie make komparsnz) - w kant
mesure ‘mesure’.).) tslf iz). Let me tell u, reedrz (2, 3? 10 @ th most (5/8/10. 25,000+ tt
nScribd.com t)) th greemnts w hav 4ged r breakn down. I PROPHESY (25/2. prdikt?) KAOS. Its
my job: Im th uthr side of th koin. Th rvr bed iz O 2 change kors. MbCrLiUaRnE sez sum will
srvive. I sppoze he iz rght but meantime verythn iz fadin & I sspkt th srvivorz r not mung me frenz & it
may not b worth srvivin. Nyway, (famly (4 kdz) r bak from th beech & r havn lunch) th@s sum of what
I woznt thinkn O last nght. Im → th beech….It woz put 2 me 6 or so weeks go x my unkl
(KAaBlAgIiLsA) th@ kountn & numbr systmz (& geomtreez) wer ndoubtdly a m@r of knvntion
(greemnt) but th@ it woz nuthr ? why sum r useful & uthrz dont work. I sgest its bkoz sum systmz
kntrdikt rlier found8nl greemnts while uthrz dont. But in a body of greemnts whch iz 4vr xp&n
& bkumn mor komplx I c no reezn why drektionz 4 ktionz runin ntr 2 rlier drektionz mght
not find their use in th fture. Not nlike th organz & sensz of th body whch may per4m dffrnt &
←→ jobz but th O iz kohernt in a way th@ spr8ly they koodnt no. Thez r th thorts I woz wastin
me time wth on th walk whr I → eest (sumtimez †n th dune & → sthrn side of Ewings Marsh whr I sor
lots of vdence of goanna drag marks & then I sor a vry lrge goanna) 4 2½ hourz & then ← beech (whr
I found a pilow) in 1½. Th 30+ ks of koast → Marlo iz 1 of th longst strtchz of prstine beech in Vic
bkoz th marsh prvnts road kcess from th Princess Highway. Mght → a bit th uthr way l8r. But 1 st a
kuppa koffee …. 7.10. Brusht me teeth. Shaved. Az I woz pplyin th soapy lathr → face I rmmbrd th@
th shavin brush I m uzin had blongd 2 my fthr.
3/4/05 (2/4/05 – 8/4/05 (no 56)) . Il papa dide (21/4. rplaced x Benedict XVI
(Ratzinger (c ‘Oct 27’ p21)) “a simple humble worker in the Lord’s vinyard” (hiz werdz) hoo in
hiz new kpasty az th ownr of truth haz lredy warnd of th danjrs of rl@vzm (‘truth’ az ntrprtd x uthrz
(22/4. in prktis th bslute/rltv dstnkshn bkumz a i of how powr iz xrsized (c ‘Danyo Reserve’ p15))) &
ego (22/4. Nietzsche ndrstood & makes trnchnt komnt on this kind of posture (23/4. ie th xrsize of
humbl powr)).) vrnght nleeshn tornts of HYPERBOLE & CLICHÉ (18/4. & woz wth HUMBL
POMP & SERMNY). Th vatikn spokesmn Dr Joaquin Navarro-Valls sed hiz last werdz “I have
looked for you. Now you have come to me. And I thank you.” wer probly rfern 2 th
yung ppl hoom he had met O th O durin hiz & meny 000z of hoom had embld in vgil in St
Peters . Th Age knkerz wth a hed ‘Pope leaves dying message for the world’s young’. It
iz stonshn th@ ny1 kood kum up wth such a poltkl & rdkulus ntrprt8n. It ndk8s th j of xpriensz
nvailb 2 meny az it iz bvius 2 me th@ th pope woz +rsn hiz god. W left T@ong (brth• of Michael
Joseph Savage (1872-1940) hoo livd in th  til 1893 & woz prime mnstr of NZ (kiwil&) 1935-1940. W
found a plark rmmbrn him nxt 2 a minor (now prv@ized) lane korld ‘Savage Lane’) → Baddaginnie
(long bak roadz; whr w arksd 4 drekshnz) → Violet Town (long Harrisons rd whr w sor meny Eastrn
Rozellaz (Platycerus eximius); red ppr in main st (2 th skreechn of Sulfur Crestd kokr2z (Cacatua
galerita)) & th wheezn & kreekn of Gang Gang kokr2z (Callocephalon fimbriatum); 2 kofeez kost
$5.70; I hav ritn thiz ntry in th litl park wth a toilt nxt 2 th kofee shop; w r hedd wst → Rushworth) ….
→ Rushworth (1.35. On th way H sed I woz bein przumshs 2 say I new wot il papa had ment but wot
xktly woz I przumin? Woz I przumin mor than w do wenvr w klaim 2 no? (eg if I say I no this iz a good
(or bad) paintn evn b4 I hav found out if uthrz (eg krtks or xprts) gree wth me?). I m ritin @ th
kerbside tabl of th kafé (rkmndd x th petrl @10dnt) whr I t a truly orfl brgr. Kmpair il papaz last
werdz wth thoze of jzuz of nzarth az rportd x Matthew 27. 45-50 whr he iz sed 2 hav kride out wth a
loud shout: ” Eli, Eli, lema sabachtthani?” whch meenz “My God, my God, why did you
abandon me?” & a bit l8r gave a loud kry & breethd hiz last; or az rprtd x Mark 15. 33-37 hoo givz
th same kkount; or x Luke 23. 44-45 hooz l8r vrzion kntrdikts th mmreez of both of thm klaimn hiz last
werdz wer “Father! In your hands I place my spirit!”; or x th time Johnz vrzion 19. 28-30 iz ritn
or trnskribed or trnzl8d hiz last werdz whch r rp-ortd 2 hav bn (in rdr 2 make th skrpture kum true) “I
am thirsty” & “It is finished” …. → Mitiamo (pub (15/4. Iv bn here meny timez eg. “Thursday
18/3/99. …. I’m at Mitiamo in the pub, about to have a tea for $8.00. Saddle sore,
but wouldn’t have got here at all if I hadnt bought a sort of seat cover which consists of
jelly in a bag so that you wobble as you sit on it. I did locate the guy from Port Fairy

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(Adrian Hansen see 7/3/99) much to his surprise. When people give you their address
they don’t really mean for you to visit. Still it was fun doing the detective work, and as it
happened I needed to go to the bike shop anyway to get the seat cover as I can barely
sit down. The big event was my first puncture on the road and I did OK to patch it. A tiny
thorn had done the damage – so much for notions of riding in the real desert where you
get 3-corner jacks. Echuca was a downer. When I’m on a bike I’m even more inclined to
avoid big towns than when in the van. Everybody here is talking about the article in
today’s paper how Mitiamo is statistically the poorest town in Victoria. They don’t seem
to mind. They reckon they might be the best at evading tax. While I remember: the
Belgian kid I talked to a few days ago saw a guy on the road carrying a full size cross
with the long end supported by two wheels so that it rolled on the ground behind him.
I’ve just set up behind the tennis court and the kids are still playing. Not for long though
as there are no lights and its getting darker. There is a station at Mitiamo and passing
grain trains make a reassuring hum. Today Iv’e travelled 94ks at 16ks/h, highest speed
27ks/h and spent 6 very painful hours in the saddle, never mind the cushy seat. Friday
19/3/99. Back in Melbourne after 84ks at 16ks/h in 5 hours in the saddle, top speed 37.
Rode out of the poorest town in Victoria after being woken by a cawing almost into
my ear just outside the tent. Being woken by large, noisy birds has been a feature of this
trip. Once or twice its been kookaburras, very close on the Goulburn river, but usually
cockatoos. As I left I meditated on how little money means as Mitiamo is as neat and as
friendly a place as I’ve been in. Watched the kids training on the y oval last night
and marvelled at their excellent spirits. Felt perfectly secure zipped up in my tent on the
rec. reserve behind the tennis courts. Had the  out of the in the shed as there
were intermittent all night.”) klozed ↓ 5 weeks go so I koodnt get th 2 stubeez I wood hav
liked. Erlier th bak roadz knspired gainst me so th@ I woz goin in Os & wood hav mist seein th last ¼
of th (Gymnorhyrnae) vs th (Corvi) game evn if it had bn opn. Bsidez th pize
(18/4. & now th@ Rocca haz gon out wth Achilles thr goze th seezn (20/4. Buckley wont b bak, Davis
haz a bustd rist, Didak iz kronik, Cameron Cloke jumps 2 erly)) lost x a gole. H rknd it woz il papaz
folt. W r @ Terrick Terrick (c ‘3/6/03 – 12/6/03’ p16) Nshnl Park. 6.08.)
3/7/05 (Melbourne  Sydney (no 60)). A slow start – watched the volunteer fire service
version of “Dad’s Army” practicing putting out a fire in the toilet block – good fun was had by all & they
were going to follow up with a snag sizzle & a few ales. They each get $63 a year and free entry to N.Ps for
their efforts. Walked from Pretty Beach (30/9/05. Thr iz n br& nue parks meetr thr whch charjz u $7 just
2 park yor kar wiel u go 4 n ) for a couple of hours under a clear sunny sky. My thought for the day on
the walk was that, though fundamentalist Muslims here should not be harrassed by ASIO or treated as
terrorist suspects when there is no evidence of such activity, the fact is that all fundamentalist faiths have
these things in common: the desire to impose their orthodoxy on others, contempt for other religious
groups, patriarchal and often negative attitudes to women and a belief that it is a morally righteous
imperative to work actively to change the world to their own image of it. They are all (Islamic, Christian,
Jewish, Hindu) dangerous & their spokesmen (Bush, Sharon (26/9/05. rljs?), the Ayatollahs, bin Laden
(26/9/05. rljs?)) make me extremely uneasy. Though Western civilization has degenerated & is deeply
flawed, it still upholds the theory (though certainly not the practice – the Hicks experience in Guantanamo
proves that) of the rule of law, the rights of citizens, and the value of democracy, (16/9/05. Howard’s new
proposals will destroy even the theory) as well as freedom of religion, and those are the values which the
extremists of all persuasions find outrageous. We shouldn’t harrass the Muslims, but perhaps we do need
to be always constantly aware of the fundamentalists and the lack of freedoms they stand for. A drink and
view at Mollymook Golf Club with the paper. Now settling in for the night at Currurong, where the clear sky
means a cold night.
10/7/05. Larst nite w got home from Eglėz (I got her kard so az 2 no her job dskrpshn:
“GAeRgRlIeCK Executive Director, Business & Financial Services SYDNEY HARBOUR
FORESHORE AUTHORITY” (1dr if sh woz rsponsbl 4 th rplasemnt of th borjnl (mum sez
KArBiAmIaLsA haz pblshd nuthr book O thm) flag @ ½ marst x th brtsh 1 @ th top of th brdj wch I
noetd wen w went → town on th feri ths mornn. In th rvo th 2 flagz (TERRA NULLIUS (30/9/05. sum1
korld it TERROR AUSTRALIS n 2daez The Age p14)) wer @ full marst wch ment thr woz 1¼ brit
flagz & ¾ of n oz 1 (it ternz out my famli knekshn wth th harbour goze evn ferthr az BLANjSoJeAAR
haz left th navee 4 th 2nd time & iz now an publk srvnt werkn 4 th DEFENCE DEPARTMNT @ Garden

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Island manjn larj sumz of muni (he sez) nshurin th@ it iz prudntli spnt. Il get hiz kard wen w → their
place 4 t 2nite. I m nevr jaded x th beauti of th harbr & m rathr chuft 2 hav fmlial knzshnz wth it))) ftr
midnite (H drove) & I slept poorli if @ orl havn vreetn x 3: 1st on savoureez pstairz bcoz I ddnt realize
thr woz a mjr meel (Egle made x 3 2 much) waitn 4 us ↓stairz, then ftr pign out gain Rasaz kakes (sh
makes th best but esp good iz her spshlti: NAPOLEONAS (Napoleon (I red (3/10/05. bort n kopi 4
mum) ‘1812 (Napoleon’s Fatal March on Moscow)’ x Adam Zamoyski © Harper Perennial 2005 in th
week b4 w left on th trip. Iv stood on Napoleonz Hill buv th Nemunas rvr in KAUNAS sevrl timez (c
‘Melbourne → Kaunas’ p5) & lookt ↓ @ th vew just az he had dun @ a ● neer whr I livd th 1st 3 yeerz
of me life. The 1812 kmpane bgan wth th †n of th rvr & th shatrd rmi rternd (← Moscow) 2 Vilnius (c
‘Vilnius (no 1)’, ‘Vilnius (no 2), & ‘Vilnius → Melbourne’) whr 30,000 of its rmainn soljrz died n a few
daiz wile NAPOLEON sped off x coach → Paris. Thr iz a pkchr in th book whr I rkgnizd th  neer whr
I woz stayin on my trip 2 lithol& (c kuvr of ‘Vilnius (no 1)’ no 16) larst yeer. Nsdntli my godfthrz name
iz Napoleonas.))) wer brort out bkoz w wer selbr8n mumz 85th berthdai wch I hadnt ntsp8d az sh had
nsstd 2 mi ovr th fone rlier this yeer sh woznt havn 1 koz it woz th 10th yeer nivrseri of th deth of
IZIDORIUS & niwai sh woz born on th 4th of June (USA INDIPENDENCE DAY) so I d out 4 th 3rd
time. Az I lai in sleeplss from vreetn I woz ovrkum x gloom (lso H had kmitd us 2 vztn Elyte & Luis
2 c their new haus 2dai on th uthr side of Sydney in a sberb w probli wont b abl 2 find wthout evn
arskn mi & Im not th slitest bit nsrstd in th reel st8 kwzishnz of Rasaz kidz whch nli mfasizis how
ndpndnt s s & rich thei r kmpaird 2 our kidz & her not knsultn mi ftr 40+ yeerz of marij made
mi feel az if I dont xst koz I wood hav prferd 2 do lmost nythn els nkludn 0) thinkn I woz prvidin a livn
met4 4 th st8 of WESTERN CIVILIZ8SHN (1/10/05. Read in the paper yesterday that someone once
asked Gandhi what he thought about western civilization and he responded that he thought it would be a
good idea.) (26/9/05. N poem H roet ystrdae: my computer / has begun to warn that / me and the world
are going / crazy together / in terms succinct / and easily understood : // “This program has made a fatal
error and will be / shut down.// File not found. // You have entered an incorrect password. // Pressing
control + alt + delete again // will cause all unsaved information / to be lost. // Shutting down now.” //
there is no argument / or action that will / prevent it all ending / in tears. / the inevitab-le can only be
delayed / by evasive action / and armageddon / will come.) I woz feeln of no use 2 nobodi & rmindd
meslf gain th@ nythn of value th@ I hav 2 sai (8/10/05. KkRaArUlS : “Why does many a man
write? Because he does not possess enough character not to write.”) Iv sed long go (mum
haz just (12 mdai) h&d mi a botl of BAROSSA Cabernet Sauvignon Shiraz 2001 4 mi brthdai
(1/10/05. Hz brthdae 2dae – u hav mie ♥) on th 19 th orgust (2 + 2 th ČEPKELIU from Egle)) but our
rglar mornin dalians dssp8d my gloomi thorts ….→ Annandale (nspktd Elytez & Luisz haus whch
they got 4 $600,000 – a gr8 x) ← Ryde (wen H rlized shd left her dai pak (21/9/05. doo it gain & u
miet b put in jael) @ Annandale) → (not torkn) → Annandale (pik up pak) ← Epping (itz 5.05 & w r →
Blansjaarz (got Joze kard & it sez: “AUSTRALIAN GOVERNMENT DEPARTMENT OF DEFENCE.
Defence Material Organization. Joseph Blansjaar DIRECTOR Amphibious and Afloat
System. Support Program Office.”) 4 dinr) …. (8.30) → Epping ftr n dlshuz meel az nli Rasa kn
maek. Th 1st chptr of our trip iz ndn, 2morrw w r leevn Sydney & ↑ (N).
17/7/05 (↑ North (no 61)). We explored Hellhole Gorge and revisited the Moss Garden by
1pm, so decided to walk a further 2ks to the Art Gallery, which we had bypassed yesterday in deference to
my hip/knee/toes. It was impressive as the stencils and engravings covered some 6 metres of chalk wall.
John suggested we walk offtrack further along the gorge the Art Gallery begins and we found a great
series of gorges (3 in all) one of which we walked along till about 3pm when it was time to turn
campwards. We’ve decided to stay another day so we can explore all 3 tomorrow. The scenery was
spectacular, and the absence of footprints in the sand and mud along the way suggests that noone has
been there recently. There were great pools and tall tree-ferns, epiphytes and orchids (no flowers visible).
There were some native violets sprinkling the floor and plenty of smaller ferns. We rock-hopped along the
creek (I managed to get a foot soaked) and I could see John’s adrenalin rising. It hasn’t been very high so
far because the set walks are hardly a stroll for him, and we havent done any off track explorations until
yesterday. Tomorrow will no doubt whet his appetite for more, but we are running out of food, so will have
to leave after that. Last night was very cold, and tonight promises the same. A few ssortd notes: th famli
wth th 4 kidz left ths mornn. ♂ iz n mnstr of rljn & ♀ a liberian ← Casino (pop 12000) in NSW. A few
daiz go thei did a → of 23 kz whch thr 5 yeer old dortr had no trubl kmpltn. It iz stonshn th@ no1 goze
→ 2 th gorj w found (26/10. kwoetn ← ‘Shallow-Water DICTIONARY’ p33: In 1750, five years
before he published his Dictionary of the English Language, Samuel Johnson asserted
that “it ought to be the endeavour of every man to derive his reflections from the
objects about him; for it is to no purpose that he alters his position, if his attention

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continues fixed to the same point.” In 1862 …. Thoreau argued, in an essay entitled
“Walking”, that he had met almost no one “who understood the art of Walking, that is, of
taking walks, - who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word is beautifully
derived ‘from idle people who roved the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity,
under pretence of going à la Sainte Terre,’ to the Holy Land [Thoreau quotes Worcester
here, although without acknowledging his source – and Worcester took his derivation
from Johnson’s Dictionary]. Johnson and Thoreau suggested that most people essentially
ignore their surroundings, and walk, if they walk at all, oblivious to nearly everything.
Their thinking has been restated, frequently. “To a person uninstructed in natural
history, a country or seaside stroll is a walk through a gallery filled with wonderful works
of art, nine-tenths of which have their faces turned to the wall,” asserted Thomas Henry
Huxley.) az 1) a hewj numbr of ppl vizt th park & 2) it iz such n bvius thng 2 chek out. But ppl prfr th
much trodn parth. Sor figbirdz (Sphecotheres viridis) in th main gorj & n Azure Kingfisher (Alcedo
azurea) in Hellhole gorj. 4got 2 mnshn a few daiz bak th@ WrAoLbSeErRt woz red x rMoUbSeIrLt &
woz n n on KfArFaKnAz (18/11. larst tuezdae @ th MAKE IT ↑ ♣ GjRoAhNnT sed hi woz
goen 2 c METAMORFOSZ). The butter yellow flowers with a scarlet throat which are beginning to
appear in the park are call-ed Yellow Hibiscus or Native Rosella. There are pink and white varieties too, but
not in flower at the moment.
(3/8/10. Completion of days from folder 6 (nos 52 – 61 of Og))

24/7/03 (Tropika – 1 (no 62)). @ O 10.30 larst nite th oeshn had dvanst → wthn a
foot or so of the lip of th beech bhind wch w wer parkt lowr ↓ so w rtrnd → ‘5 Mile Swimn O’ whr ths
mornn (2 Brolgas (Grus rubicundus) hav just flown ovr) th van woz kairfly nvstg8d x 3 Yellow
Honeyeaters (Lichenostomus unicolor) wch wood hovr @ tiemz rite in frunt of th netd wndow of th
van zf thei wontd → nside. 1 reezn I left th ● n th beech woz bkoz I woz rmindd of a dreem I had told
H O @ th start of the trip r n Sydney n wch w had →d out n n spit & wen w ternd O orl w kood c n th
drkshn ← wch w had kum woz th c wch had kum n bhind us & sepr8d us ← dstnt linev hilz x meni
milez. It seemd 2 mi th dreem mite hav bn a wornn (& sertnli n COINCIDENCE) & ntil sum1 givz mi a
good reezn why I shood dsrgrd my dreemz (but shood bliev wot Winston HoWARd (14/12. 1s sed
th@ th Cronulla  woz: “a part of Sydney which has always represented to me what middle
Australia is all about”) or George Bush sai) iel pai heed 2 thm. In Cardwell zpartv my nvstg8shnv
thingz loekl I bort n piecev @ nuthr shop (th @ “try our famous ” had bn por) evn tho its
bvius thrz no n fleet in Cardwell & tho th ♀ sedt woz Dory wch I new woz a suthrn . Wen ♀
h&dt 2 mi I kood tel sumtn woz sus from th size of the pakt zt woz x 2 th nrml serv & DORY ↓S zn
xpnsv wchz good evn ftr long freezn (orl r frozn or childn ice 4 a wile evn wen thei r dskribedz
frsh) & I woz rite zt taistd xktli like th whch had bn korld NANNIGUY wch I had eetn ystrdi & wch
meltd →2 a taistls paist th moemntt wozn thmowth. Then H rmindd mi O PACIFIC DORY wchz reali
mportd VIETNAMESE K@ (c ‘Melbourne → Sydney’ p3) & I new I had bn had like a tipkl 2rst
(28/11. ← ‘GULF TRIP’: “[ 24.09.97 ] Emergency ¶ Sir, The tourist industry sucks ¶
Shopkeepers and caravan park owners will rule the world. ¶ Bureaucracy will triumph. ¶ The rich will
on the poor for ever and the poor will eat forever. ¶ THIS IS THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO
Q.L.D. ¶ a …z”). Thn I had n dskshn O theez m@rz n stil nuthr shop & ♂ xplaind → mi th@ th nli
n ports O heer r @ Cairns & Townsville & n fue botes opr8n outv Innisfail (1v th wetst townz – not
Ingham z I rote n fue daiz go) & th 2 go 4 r RED EMPEROR, CORAL TROUT (v xpnsv), n kindv
SALMON & BARRAMUNDI (but nli f t woz kort lokli z th stuf mportd ← AZIA z louzi). Now 4 n
kmpleet chainjv topk – n kuplv kwoets H haz torn outv th ppr ovr th week: “Steve Irwin is so
inexplicably popular with Americans (21/12. n lithol& 2) it surely made sense to create his
own feature film. That doesn’t mean you should watch it. The plot (Steve tries to save a
from potential poachers) is incidental as he pokes native animals and promises they
could kill him at any moment” & “If a governnment can do it, sooner or later it will do it;
if a law can be misused, it will be. As Benjamin Franklin said, people who can give up
essential liberty for a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.” Iv rit th
ntri (3pm) @ n br& new pub ½ wai btween Hull Heads & Tully Heads. W mai spnd th nite @ 1v theez.
W r O 14kz ← th hiwai; Tully & Mission Beach Resort etc r n litl ↑N n th uthr sidev nstuari. We have
often discussed the distinction between being a tourist (7/12. ←’GULF TRIP’: “ CENTRAL 12.09.97 ¶
Doc, Tourists wear white socks, especially if they are old (with gym shoes) but some groovier young

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ones wear those new very expensive coloured sandshoes on bare feet. If they are superfashionable
french types they wear leather slipons with khaki shorts and maybe a polo shirt that is navy blue with
baby shit colour collar. Tourists hire bicycles and like to ride them on the beach even though the
bikes are called mountain bikes. Tourists often wear a sarong. I think they like being in RESORT
towns like Port Douglas (great backdrop of mountains) because even the old couples are often
walking hand in hand though it doesn’t prevent them looking a bit grim while they are doing it.
Perhaps being in a RESORT makes them fall in love again in a tepid way. Tourists spend most of
their waking hours eating heaps of gourmet food in waterfront ye olde style cafes or in waterfront
very modern cafes but whichever kind they have all been built in the last few years. Tourists are not
sun smart, no, no, they insist on exposing even their nipples to the sun cause they want to show their
friends back in germany that they have done the tropics. I don’t think Danny Cass-Minus would make
a very good tourist. Give the tourists their due though, many of them got up before sunrise to gather
on the famous 4-mile beach at Port Douglas this morning to witness, and with reverence, for I noticed
that even the joggers and some of the power walkers stopped for the event, what turned out to be a
truly metaphysical (prophetic?) sunrise. There was hardly one among us that wasn’t frozen in his
tracks by the magnificent spectacle of sunbeams bursting through dramatic cloud formations. Claude
Lorrain, or in perhaps? Even the guys who like me, are forever dodging authority and with whom I
have been connected by fate were sufficiently sobered up by then to lean on their old Holden in quiet
reverence. All this seems a long way behind me now for I have driven through Cairns heading
SOUTH and have parked in a FREE council park at BABINDA. Remember the name because this is
a real town. What a relief after all the RESORTS. The WHOLE town is 1950s like the Hollywood
Palace. All the old signwriting, the old cigarette vending machines, pin ball machines in the pub. And
what a pub it is, you must join me for a drink here some day. This is the real thing. But in a time-
warp. It is the 1st ‘real’ town I have come to since I left the inland. ¶ a …z”) and being a traveller, so
here is my mathemat-cal formula for use as a test: TO = (-TI) + PTE + Mn + I + Kmsn + En while TR = (+TI) +ATE +
M – I - Kms – En where TO = Tourist, TR = Traveller, TI = Time, TE = Temperament, M = Money, I = national icons (eg. Uluru,
Kimberleys, Gold Coast or anywhere extensively advertised in the media), Kms = Kilometres travelled, E = Equipment, P = Passive,
A = Active and n = unlimited. John HoWARd (7/12. hiz midl naem reeli z Winston) is touring British hospital
wards lately, dispensing official condolences to Aussies injured in the recent London bombings (the
HYPOCRITE) and was tackled by one of them (a gutsy girl who had escaped the train wreck and got onto
the bus the bomber was sitting on, on the top floor above her – she got severe neck injuries) who
demanded to know if he saw any connection between the incident and the Iraq invasion. Apparently he
left ‘in a bad mood’ according to the waiting press corps. Unfortunately she didn’t get stuck into him
properly – I would have shrieked at him like a fishwife. Perhaps her neck was hurting too much. I have
started collecting seedpods of unusual shapes and sizes …. 6.30. W r n th kownsl kampn gO & tz kostn
us $3.30 eech. Iv bn heer b4 praps n th vri ● w r n now, rietn (c ‘GULF TRIP’). Th wite&blak Torres
Strait Pigeons (Ducula Spilorrhoa) kkordn 2 n kopr plark n th 4shr (but kkordn 2 mi berd book thei r
korld Torresian Imperial-Pigeon (Ducula bicolor)) “have a spe relation with this area
often ing in s between offshore islands where they nest and the mainland
s that are their feeding grounds”. Ths smorl kampsite z vri loe kmpaird 2 th Mission
Beach  (& Dunk Isl&) w r → 2moro but nvrthls mostv th vanzr far fansier than owrz. Thei hav naimz
like ‘Shark Attack’, ‘Lost and Lovin It’, ‘Free Wind’ etc, etc. @ th bote ramp w met a ♂ ← South West
Rocks in NSW wer mi & H sor n th yeer 2000. ♂ sed heed nevr liv heer z u kant swim
(KROKODILEZ) & orl thei do z drink. ♂ z heer now bkoz hiz farthr hooz 63 z dien from CIRRHOSISv
th livr. Th komn pijn w r c-n heer z th ◊ Dove (Geopelia cuneata) wchz th smorlst pijn n OZ. Just
herd n th nuze th@ th persn hoo woz xkuted in London x plain klothez skuriti ON SUSPSHN of b-n n
terrrst woz n Brazlian wth no knkshn 2 th BOMNZ . Hmmm … wot kan u xpkt! M heern 4 th 2nd tiem
ths evnn th rpeetd mornfl wailnv th Beach Curlew but wch n mi book z korld Beach Thick-Knee
(Esacus magnirostris).
31/7/05. Larst nite w wer wotchn n fier hooz litez blinkt n n off liken airplainz went flue.
Ths mornn I puld n tieni tik ← Hz mdrf. 2dai O 9.15am w → th long tropkl beech wch lookt like
sumptn outv ‘Treasure Island’ or ‘Kidnapped’ 2wordz th nxt hedl& ↑N. Thsz th wetst bitv koastlinen
OZ wch meenz tz z TROPKL z u kan get. Rite @ th startvth → I got 2 c n pairv Yellow-bellied
Sunbirdz (Nectarinia jugularis) wchr komn but Iv nvr cn em b4. N@chrli w hadn SWIM N TH NUDDI
(17/12. Nude. 1531. [ad. L. nudus.] A. adj. 1. Law. a. Of statements, promises etc. : not
formally attested or recorded. b. Of persons, esp. n. executor : An executor, etc., in trust
1590. 2. Naked, bare; without covering; devoid of furniture or decorations 1866. b. Of
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the human figure, etc. : Naked, undraped 1873. 1. a. N. contract or pact : a bare
contract or promise, without any consideration. 2. b. The medals .. bear .. on their
obverse side th n. bust of that Empress 1879. B. sb. 1. A nude figure in painting or
sculpture 1708. 2. With the. The undraped human figure; the representation of this in
the arts 1760. B. The condition of being undraped. 1856. 2. Modern chalk drawings,
studies from the n. BROWNING.) Swimnn H2O th kulr of th Yarraz skairi z u thinkv so u
doent stain 4 long. Faktz I havnt cn ny1 n th H2O z longz Iv bn & Iv nli bn n x3. Th moodv th beech
woz maid mor xotk x th fakt th@t haz not yet bn vrrun x KOKONUT PARMZ wch havn habtv skweezn
out th casuarinaz & trashn up th hedv th beech. & yes!!! O 1½ hrz → beech lookn →2 n LAGOON
bhined th beech I sor mi 1st CROCODILUS POROSUS sitn n n log n th midlv th LAGOON butz I
moeshnd 2 H 2 kum ovr it ●d mi & slid →2 th H2O. Twoz n xmplv how lert thei r probli bkoz wen thei
rnt thei get eetn x bigr KROKS. I woz vri xited havn n th parst (c ‘GULF TRIP’: “02.09.97 FRAGILE
DON’T DROP ¶ Dere + Rew, ¶ I don’t care being out of focus now that I know its caused by me
being in a paralill universe and I admit I am unfocussed cauze Im lazy and lack consintrashin. And I
can hack bein irresponsible and havin an infantile personality especially as I am having a great time
anyway but I worry about bein a burden on society so when I get back to Melbourne I am goin to get
councilling (how the fuck do you spell that) as long as its at the taxpayers expense and totally free +
no strings attached. It’s the first step (+ necessary one). I take this step of putting meself in the hands
of the caring profession as long as the councillar is between fifteen and twenty three (them being the
legal age) and STARK NAKED for the duration of the sessions. She must be good lookin too of
course. In fact I DEMAND to be councilled. ¶ Give my regards to the Lil Chile, tell him that Cloncurry
+ district is a great area for him to start his hub cap collection. Tell him too that yesterday I sprung 3
krokodills of the freshwater variety and they woz all movin towards the water like greezed lightnin and
were disconcertingly big – my size in fact. Id just had a dip for a wash in another pool in the Leichhart
River. Power to the Prof. ¶ Burke and Wills roadhouse on the way to Normanton. a …z”) nli cn
CROCODILI JOHNSTONI & I kood tel th dfrns strait wai. N4tun8li H nevr got 2 c t. Tz hard 4 mi 2b
knfdnt O th lenthvt (wen u mzure th lenthvn tz lwaiz shortr thant lookt ppl sai) but I rekn 5 ft z
klose. N ← I had nuthr dipn th c & w wer bak just wen tlookt zift mite start n. But wev nli hadn bitv
drizl. Th ROMANCE of th → woz dmnsht x th sprizin kwantiti v jagd peeszv BROKEN GLASS, mostli
brokn stubeez, stikn ↑ outv th s& spshli @ th hgh H2O mark. Twoz ftn raizr sharp nlike ↓S wer th ej
gets worn wai x th larj serf wch u doent get heer. 4get th rmantk nitetiem → x , & evn goin 4 n
swim prznts n dainjr. So far the GLASS haz bn th most dainjrus thing wev kum † n th TROPKS. ….
Im kumn 2 th knvkshn th@ mYaOrUgRuCeErNiAtRe znot th orthr hooz goin 2 rkndl mie ntrst n reedn
wch I doent think I want rkndld niwai …. 7.25. Th haz setn. W r kooptn th van. Radio sez min.
temp. 4 2nitez 19°. Hz reedn. Rlier n th evnn ♀ sed ♀ felt like n RUM & KOKE. ♀z n bit ↓. W greev 4
sumv our kidz hoo kant find n ● n th O wch sewtsm. ♀ 1drz wotzt orl O. (Pisn ↓). Sum thingz just
doent make sens. N th SUPERMARKT nInnisfail thei r seln KOKONUTZ 4 $1.80 eech wen th O
dstrktz litrd wthm & u kan pik ↑ z meni z u want 4 FREE. 2dai wv bn ON THE ROAD (Jack Kerouak –
Iv red th book) 4 n O munth.
7/8/05 (Tropika – 2 (no 63)). Which he did – it was deeper than it looked due to the clarity
of the water so it was a proper immersion. Off to Mossman to read the (bad) paper over (bad) coffee. The
Sunday paper here is called The Sunday Mail and its just like The Herald Sun, complete with that rabid red-
neck Andrew Bolt and an absence of news. Arrived at Daintree Village (17/1. c Tropika – 1 p18)about
11.30 having stopped to look at a river tour office where a pretty tropical garden (including epiphytic
orchids) attracted both a Ulysses and a Cairns Birdwing butterfly – most spectacular as the Ulysses is
metallic sapphire blue and the Cairns is metallic emerald with black borders. Daintree Village (19/1. c kuvr
map ↑←)boasts about 6 shops of which 4 are eateries, and a boat ramp where tour boats are moored
($25/hour for a tour). The river boasts lots of crocs which according to a young man we met later are
growing in numbers again after a culling in the 80s in response to the death of a local woman. He was
relaxing at the base of an overhung track leading to a broad patch of riverbank where a magnificent
strangler fig was growing. His great grandfather had owned the property and he and other family
members are reclaiming it after years of neglect. He reckoned the crocs were identifiable when passing
due to a repulsive odour they have as carrion eaters. He and his family only go into the river at low tide
and in a group to look for freshwater molluscs. He was an islander I think. The 3 drives out of Daintree
were great – creeks or the river itself winding up narrowing, cleared valleys where long-eared cattle graze
with the rainforest covering the steep slopes and tops of the hills and mountains in the distance. Saw
jackfruit trees (Durian) on one property. Found a great spot for the night on the side of a minor road above
a ford so we’ll have gurgling water again tonight as a lullaby. John had King Salmon for lunch – pan fried

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and quite tasty, though still not as good as Spanish Mackerel. I rang Dan – he went to young Rasa’s
housewarming last night. She has a town-house in Richmond. Everyone else is OK. Melbourne is cold and
expecting rain. It was a perfect day here – warm, with a refreshing breeze as we drove. Wr kampt llgali
vkors. Th rool heerz ue knot kampn st8 4st rn kownsl l& (ie x roedsied) & fue doo thei kan giv ue
n$50 nth● fien. Th nli waev bein shor not2 kopt z2b n priv8 prpti; ue kanget prmshn zw did ystrdi
rwthout th ownr noen. Eim shor wr saef heer 2 xth roedsied z ie karnt majn ni1 kumn out th 7kz parst
Daintree ↑n roed wch ndz 1k ferthr. Bsiedz thszn mienr roed offn mienr roed. Now sum mor berdz:
Cattl Egrets (Ardea ibis) r vri nuemrus zr White-breasted Woodswallowz (Artamus leucorhynchus)
&th vri brliant Forest Kingfisher (Todirhanphus (Halcyon) macleayii) &th Rainbow Bee-eaterz
(Merops ornatus) wch ue c vrwhr. Yellow-bellied Sunbird (Nectarinia jugularis) (17/1. c pik nkuvr
Tropika – 1 ↑←) kanb cn nth main st @Daintree & kmbien wel wth th brliant butrfliez H & ie sor. Sor
Dusky Honeyeaterz (Myzomela obscura), Graceful Honeyeater (Meliphaja graecilis) gain, &th
bold&noizee Helmeted Friarbird (Philemon buceroides). Bar-shouldered Dove (Geopelia cuneata)
r ftn cn sitnn lektrk wierz, & ie did ♂j 2 c nPheasant Coucal wch ie f10 heer but rairli c. Bakn Daintree
b4 kumn heer ie poestd nkard 2 Brian&Zorka (17/1. thanx 4 th h&maed x-mas kard (v Raffaelz (?)
aenjl (O 2 jump or flie?)) w fownd wn w got ←2 Melb. Wr keepnt) thn reeliezd ie hadnt ritn nd8 r whr
twoz sent ←. Th kard givzn listv DAENJRUS ORSTRALIANZ wch iev rkst Brian 2 4wood → John
Winston HoWARd (c/o geBoUrSgHe) 4 n10sv trrrgaeshn wthout leegl rprzntaeshn. Nth kaesvth
KROKODILE, ie sjstd, shood ♂ maek th slietst moovmnt jewrn trchr ♂ b mmdi8li shotnthhed. Tz
werth bein spshli wairv nthgrasz thisz TAIPAN tertri. BOX JEL shoodb skwosht & FERAL
dzerv 2b rnderd (27/1. ie kwoet (zkwoetd x D.J.Fraser, Gold Coast, QLD ← The Age
(Letters & emails) 23/1/06) ← They Thought They Were Free, The Germans, 1938-45
(University of Chicago Press, 1955) x Milton Mayer (ndr n mien): “What no one seemed to
notice was the ever-widening gap between the government and the people. And it
became always wider … the whole process of its coming into being, was above all
diverting, it provided an excuse not to think … for people who did not want to think
anyway, gave us some dreadful, fundamental things to think about … and kept us so
busy with continuous changes and ‘crises’ and so fascinated … by the machinations of
the ‘national enemies’, without and within, that we had no time to think about these
dreadful things that were growing, little by little, all around us … ¶ Each step was so
small, so inconsequential, so well explained or, on occasion, ‘regretted’, that unless one
understood what the whole thing was in principle, what all these ‘little measures’ …
must some day lead to, one no more saw it developing from day to day than a farmer in
his field sees the corn growing … Each act is worse thant the last, but only a little worse.
You wait for the next and the next. ¶ You wait for one great shocking occasion, thinking
that others, when such a shock comes, will join you in resisting somehow. You don’t
want to act, or even talk, alone … you don’t want to ‘go out of your way to make
trouble’. But the one great shocking occasion, when tens or hundreds or thousands will
join with you, never comes. ¶ That’s the difficulty. The forms are all there, all untouched,
all reassuring, the houses, the shops, the jobs, the mealtimes, the visits, the concerts,
the cinema, the holidays. But the spirit, which you never noticed because you made the
lifelong mistake of identifying it with the forms, is changed. Now you live in a world of
hate and fear, and the people who hate and fear do not even know it themselves, when
everyone is transformed, no one is transformed. ¶ You have accepted things you would
not have accepted five years ago, a year ago, things your father … could never have
imagined.”). & fn BOMB (18/1. WaElIbMeOrRtTS (BOMB DESIGNER) diedn 21/12/05 @ thaejv
67. ♂ plaedn leedn roeln dzienn th GBU-28 ‘Bunker Buster’ (kwoetn ← The Great War for
Civilization: the Conquest of the Middle East x rFoIbSeKrt vth werdz vn Reuterz krspndnt:
‘The bomb, called a GBU-28, was five times more powerful than any non-nuclear weapon
previously built. It was just hours old when dropped on Iraq’s strongest underground
fortress and its designers had their fingers crossed that it would work. The new bomb,
built at breakneck speed by Lockheed Missiles and Space Co. and Texas Instruments Inc.
in an unprecedented team effort, was dropped from an F-111 onto a command complex
at Al Taji airbase …. The 4,700-pound superbomb – a howitzer barrel filled with
explosives and guided by a laser – penetrated the massive concrete walls and blew up
inside the bunker …“ It’s a story of patriotism and unprecedented cooperation,” said

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Merl Culp of Lockheed Corp. …’) 4 wch ♂ woz worddn medl 4 mrtorius svlian servis (nsidntli
fosfrus bomz wr uesd nFallujah nth preznt wor). N 2002&3 ♂ oevrsor th dvlopmntvth MOAB bom
wch waez 9450klz &z th larjst giedd air-dlivrd wepn nhistri. ♂ lso hadbn proejkt njneer 4n klustr bom
wch hadn proedkshn r8v 8,000,000 bomlts/munth jewrn th Vietnam Wor. Nth 1990z ♂ servd 2 2rz zn
wepnz nspktr (BUeTrLiEcR sez prbli thei wr US spiez) 4 th UN n iraq. ♂ z srvievd x hiz wife Nancy, 3
☼z and 4 gr&☼z.) goez offn OZ th MUZLM kmnti must shorli hav noen b4h& fit kkordn 2 John so ft
hapnz tz thr folt. Zzzzz wel.
14/8/05. A quiet night on the lake was disrupted by the late arrival of a group with utes and
a trail bike who set up camp not far from us about 10pm. Once set up they were quiet, but they heralded
their arrival with a few rounds on the trail bike. Did a round centred on Milaa Milaa and then Ravenshoe
(19/1. ← GULF TRIP: “06.09.97. CARPENTARIA ELECTRICAL PTY LTD ¶ +Roo, doesn’t it
just tear you the way the modern young feminist professional is always saying ‘fucking’ instead of
‘fucken’! They just don’t get anyfink fuckenwell right, do they! Truth + liberty! ¶ a…z ¶ Ravenshoe,
QLD”) and Herberton before coming back to Yungaburra for a quick drink before tea. A group of young
Japanese are water-skiing in a very restrained way – fairly slow and no shrieks or screams. The round
today showed the tableland at its finest – rich rolling vistas enclosed by blue hills. It is obviously a wealthy
area both agriculturally and ec-onomically as most towns are neat, comfortable and pretty and the farms
are well maintained. Only in Herberton (ex mining centre and furthest west) did we notice people who
seemed less affluent – the land here is not as lush being drier and hillier. Of the Aboriginal population
there is little enough evidence, except in Kuranda. The local museum volunteer in Milaa Milaa mentioned
that the last full-blood had died a few years ago. There are photos in various info centres we’ve been in of
people still living tribally in the early 1900s. We did some driving along minor, non-tourist, roads which
wound through beautiful country. At the Milaa Milaa museum John reminisced about school days corporal
punishment with the attendant and his side-kick. We bought a bottle of wine made from a lilly-pilly type
fruit at the wine shop there. At Ravenshoe we had bad coffee and dried out Spanish Mackeral in the
Popular Coffee Shop, which obviously paid big bucks to be included in the local map. At Herb-erton the
aborigines we saw looked less happy than anywhere else – but they don’t look happy anywhere Ive
noticed, and even if not obviously drunk they are often outside hotels, or carting slabs from bottle shops.
Speaking of drunk, I got that way on one glass of rum and coke which I drank too fast on an empty
stomach. In my defence re the speed of consumption: a) I rarely drink alcohol b) I’m a fast eater and
drinker – if you dont eat and drink fast, stuff goes cold or heats up. Wr fnshn ↑ nth Tabl&z bak nth laek
shor but x ourslvz 4 n chaenj. Tz n perfkt stil eevnn. Th kraenz flue vrhed gaen kroekn noizli. X th
tiem w leev Atherton w wilv viztd orl th townz & maen vljz nth , shorli 1v th moest prvljd nth Ov OZ.
2niet ie kan lisn2th ♪♪♪♫♫♫♪♪zv th meni vrieteezv H2O berdz heer. Ie woz prtklrli thrild @ t tiem x
nBuff-banded Rail (Gallirallus philippensis) wch ppeerd mstrioosli outv 0whr 2 taek krumbz ie woz
dropn @ mi feet. Th fruet wien iem drinknz Bushtucker (Wild River Cherry) prjewst x
WINEWORKS Downunder of Herberton (www.wineworksdownunder.-com) wch sez nth laebl: “The
folk at WineWorks Downunder have produced a unique range of wines – as Aussie as
Ned Kelly and as fair dinkum as g’day mate – bonzer for the ‘barby’, campfire – and even
the Boardroom …eh? ¶ Wild River Cherry is commonly found along the creek banks and
waterways of North Queensland. Bass, carp, turtles and other fish feed from the berries
as they drop into the water. The ultimate wine for Bushtucker enthusiasts! Try with ,
, or etc. or just as a great drink. ¶ Limited stock of wine available.” (19/1. but an
unlimited stock of marketing T hazn strong & ntrstn noez & vri nuezual taest. Th ‘cherry’ zn
)
speeseezv lili pili. W tt @ thr outlt nRavenshoe not@ Milaa Milaa z H sed. Th saeinv thdae lso
kumz ← zth@s whr H redtn ♀r horrrskoep n Mystic Medusa nth Weekend Australian. Tz x
Anne Rice (hooz book woz daptd →2 th film Queen of the Damned n wch our vri own ZIdZaYnS
hazn *n roel wch larsts 4 O 2 sekndz. Nsdntli ♂ had2hav th vampier teeth (H sez ♂ ddnt oepn ♂z
mouth, just n door) maedn QLD &th kost kaem outv ♂z ernnz. ♂ lso had2 join OZ aktrz kwiti wch 2
woz dduktd from ♂z pae. Nth nd ♂ ernt 0 (spent n week (spoezdli ernn $1000/dae) n st&-x waetn 4
♂z korl).): “To really ask is to open the door to the whirlwind. The answer may annihilate the
question and the questioner.”
☼di (12/3. Sunday [OE. Sunnan-daeg; tr. L. dies solis = Gr. ήμέρα ήλίον ‘day of the
sun’. (Now with initial capital.)] 1. The first day of the week, observed by Christians as a
day of rest and worship, in commemmoration of Christ’s resurrection; the Lord’s Day. b.
With specific epithet, as Advent, Midlent, Mothering, Trinity ME. 2. Saint S., a rendering
of Sanctus Dominicus = St. Dominic, due to confusion with dies Dominica = Sunday.

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local. 1490. ¶ 1. Phr. (colloq.). When two Sundays come together (meet), never. A month
of Sundays, a very long time. So A week of Sundays. ¶ attrib. and Comb., as S. book,
clothes, dinner, paper; S best, one’s best attire, usu. worn on S. S. letter; the
dominical letter.) 21/8/05 (Outback (no 65)). 8.25am.  spoez ths haz2b1vth moest
mportnt ●s nth 4maeshnvth naeshnz PSYCHE (deth rathrthan sbjewgaeshn; dfnsv thorti; rt 2 liv
offthl&; polees r lwaez nth sdv powr; ▲ whr ue want2; werkrz rts; miltansi & shrz strk &
berthv uenion moovt; gulf btween rich&-poor (th swag(swageez brkfst – nstrech, npis &
ngood look O) wer ofn thshrz)) yet tz soe nglktd x 2rsts (&  bet HoWARd (th coWARd hoo wor
nBULLT-PRUEF VEST ndr hz FAEK booshi owtft 2 nfarmrz meetn nGippsl&) haznt bn h& woent
vzt wl th IR ljslaeshn zpndn) kmpaird 2 thBlue Heeler (bilt n1889 – nplaes whr thrjnl shrz probli
drank but H bets th@ A.B.Paterson probli drank wn wth thjr @ thstaeshn) Hotel wthtz ugli
GRAFITI, tz kultvaeshnvn FAKE owtbakri (xakt m@ch 4 thMatilda ●) & p@rnzd xkluezvli x 2rsts
kumnoffth L&sborough Hway. Thoe H reknz m not nreel OZZI  feel sad& & snttl z 
@ nst pknk taebl NDRTH SHAEDVN EUCALYPTUS COOLABAH nth bankv (thr r2 Brolgas aka
Grus rubicundus aka ‘Native Companions’ browzn nth Mitchell gras nx) 1vth chanlzvth
DIAMANTINA rvr (H zfeedn Crested Pjnz (Geophaps lophotes); nflokv Galarz (Cacatua
roseicapilla) ( x) .… → O 150kz SE → Winton (whr thgrei noemadz kum ndroevz 2 asrt thr OZZI
dntiti b4 rternn → big siti → TV → nersn hoemz → d; thtown kaetrz 2 2rsts zmuchz eni POP rzort
nth koest & haz bkum thopositv wott 1s woz) … To counter his scathing bleakness of view about the
GNs (12/3. joek ← Warringal Orchid Society inc. ( Savannah p9): “A tour bus driver is
taking a group of seniors down a highway when he is tapped on the shoulder by a little
old lady. She offers him a handful of peanuts, which he gratefully munches up. After
about 15 minutes, she taps him on the shoulder again and she hands him another
handful of peanuts. She repeats this gesture about 5 more times. When she is about to
hand him another batch again, he asks the little old lady: “Why don’t you eat the
peanuts yourself?” “We cant chew them because we’ve got no teeth,” she replies. The
puzzled driver asks: “Why do you buy them then?” To which the old lady replies: “We
just love the chocolate around them.”), at least they are out and about even if they do succumb to
being “Whiteliners” (the term used for those who stick to the centre of the bitumen) so that when they do
go to the nursing home they have seen something different to the suburban dream. We were in danger of
being whiteliners ourselves once we left the gulf as the big distances between towns cause a sort of
hypnosis to set in – you get accustomed to sitting on 100ks with the same flat, seemingly featureless
country zipping by. We had to force ourselves to slow down and investigate side tracks where possible,
stop and pick a flower (purple and yellow pea flowers and white daisies began to appear the nearer we got
to Winton as the area had a recent 5" fall of rain) or slow right down to see the bustards beside the road.
Winton has a Matilda Centre too, much bigger than Kyuna’s. It charges $17.50 to view its exhibition.
Naturally we gave it a miss. Forgot to mention that Colin Malone says there are at least two freshwater
crocs in Julia Creek near where we camped, and that Kerry Packer (12/3. vale, Kerry ( Savannah p5)
hadn st8 mmorial held @ thtaxpaerz xpns) owns a property not far from the Combo waterhole where he
runs some fancy breed of cattle brought in from King Island which suffer badly in the heat here. On the
road this morning we passed a cairn from which someone had removed the metal plaque. Painted on it
was the polite request: “Please put the fucken plark back”. John was impressed because the writer
was a kindred speller as well as a gentleman/woman. In a brochure for a drive we picked up at the info
centre it says that the apostle birds, my favourite inland birds because of the way they gather in groups
talking and moving about incessantly, are also called Lousy Jacks because they have a lot of lice. No
wonder they are so frenetic in their habits. … Apostle (Struthidea cinerea). X throed w sor 7 Kor
(Australian) Bustard (Araeotis kori). N thstvth rjnl townshpv Winton (whn twoz korld Pelican
Lagoon) w sor Spinifex Pigeon (Geophaps plumifera), nbuetfl ltl krestd   rairli . Wr t lleegli
nfue00 yrdz parstn mont (O 12kz ← Winton) wch reedz: “THIS MAJOR CAIRN ¶ Marks the
site of the Winton strike camp during the 1891- 94 shearers strike ¶ The efforts and
sacrifices of the outback queensland workers of this area were instumental in the
foundation of the australian labor party ¶ This cairn is dedicated to the memory of these
men by Winton branch Australian labor party. Pat lourigan, a.l.p. state sec-retary ¶
winton district historical society. Catherine hardwick, secretary historical society ¶ Bruce
simpson president winton branch A.l.p. & winton historical so-ciety ¶ august 16th 1973”.
But hstrz fkl & thngz havn 10dnsi 2 chaenj →2 thr opzits.  bortn 
kard wch sez @ tht “DID YOU
KNOW? That A SWAGMAN was a product of the Great Depression, late in the 1920s and
early 1930s?” &@thnd “The famous song ‘Waltzing Matilda’, Australia’s unofficial national

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anthem relates the story of a swaggie – ‘Once a jolly swagman’ etc.” Butth song woz 
n1895!! Wl nth topkv opzits n2daez Weekend Australian ndr thhedln “SAS naked and
bound in training” trports “Australian soldiers are being blindfolded, stripped naked and
menaced by savage dogs for up to three hours in extreme training exercises to prepare
them to resist torture. ¶ The intensive regime, approved at the highest level of
government, is about to be upgraded in response to the growing threat from enemies
who do not respect the rules of the Geneva Convention (12/3. eg thyanx hoov ppointd
Gonzales (xprt 4 gtnO Gneeva Knvnshnz) z@orni jnrl). ¶ Defence Minister Robert Hill has
confirmed interrogators are authorized to use threats of physical and sexual abuse
during simulated interrogation sessions at the Defence Intelligence Centre at Canungra,
near the Gold Coast. ¶ “When approved by the exercise director, working military dogs
that are muzzled and short leashed may be used during advanced RTI (resistance to
interrogation) training, in order to create realism” Senator Hill said in a written response
to a parliamentary question from federal Labor MP Daryl Melham. … Senator Hill said
trainees were blindfolded for much of the exercise and could be made to stay naked for
up to three hours. “Trainees may be requested to strip naked for the purposes of
searching. Nudity only occurs in advanced practical RTI training. Participants in basic
practical training are only stripped to their underwear,” he said. “In no circumstances
are RTI trainees kept naked for a period longer than three hours in aggregate during the
RTI exercise.” … A spokesman for the Defence Department said last night it now
“assumed” enemy interrogators might not comply with the Geneva Convention (12/3. Not
a surprise after Abu Ghraib !). … Australia Defence Association executive director Neil James
– a qualified interrogator and the original author of the ADF’s interrogation training
manual – told The Weekend Australian all soldiers received theoretical training and that
troops in combat roles received basic practical training …¶ In each session there is a
medical officer and a “neutral” umpire who have the ability to stop the training at any
time …¶ “They get repeated questioning, sexual humiliation by officers of the opposite
sex …”” Hmmm…rmmbr George Orwellz DBLSPEEK?!  n (12/3. nli  z c/o St8Lbri &
MelbUni bkoz m +rs woz @  nMelb) → DRUaMlMeOcND nwch  nkluedd n kard wth
thwerdzv ‘Waltzing Matilda’ 2+2 hz klkshnv ri muezk & songz (5.30pm).
28/8/05. Did a pretty stroll along the various channels of the Bulloo River before breakfast
and then headed for Toompine which is supposed to be derived from an aboriginal word for leech. The pub
is the only building and though nicely kept (mainly corrugated iron) the publican looked morose. There are
4 people here according to the tourist literature. We are into red earth – mallee country. Next stop Yowah,
a town famous for boulder opal and the Yowah Nut, a roughly spherical walnut (or larger) sized rock which
when cut reveals heavy veins of opal. It is very showy and even stone with little opalization has intricate
designs in it – the marks made by tiny sea creatures millions of years ago. There was a tailgate market on
so we were able to browse through a dozen or so collections. Boulder opal is now all the fashion, according
to one of the locals, and preferred in Germany and Japan to the crystalline pieces found in the S.A. and
N.S.W. fields. (John reckons I’ll believe anything anyone tells me). The town is spread out higglety-pigglety
with a range of architecture – from broken down caravans to tin sheds to brick houses. There is an
abandoned concrete house embedded with bits of boulder opal and ceramics where a group of about 15
cattle came to browse while we were looking. There is a shop with very few supplies; the Yowah Nut Café
where John had a big hamburger and I had 2 large chicken wings and copious chips, total $11.50; a small
library; and a free caravan park which stretches off into the empty distance with toilets and free showers.
The town water comes from an artesian bore, 129°F when it hits the surface. The water is crystal clear and
smells heavily mineralized though it lathers up well. I left the latest of my paperbacks inscribed with the
message “Travelling Book – Please pass me on” and the date and place of purchase in the
toilet/shower/laundry block when we first arrived and it was gone when I went to rinse out some stuff on
the way to our spot for the night deep in the caravan park area. So far I’ve left 5 books at various locations
– my version of the “Book Crossing” activity you can read about at bookcrossings.com on the www. John
Howard said one perceptive thing yesterday (though I hate to give the weasel credit) about the ALP and
the “war on terror” – he reckons they want “2 bob each way”and so cant come up with a definite policy.
It’s true! By the way, this is a “dry” town – the nearest pub is Toompine, 123ks away (24/3. thrz npub
kloesr @ Eulo) and the shop doesn’t provide any alcohol. Just as well for the miners’ health – one we met
in the café was in an advanced state of alcohol-induced physical decrepitude and he probably wasn’t more
than 40. W hav ntrdth Paroo Shire. Thsmornn stil nth Bulloo w had 1vth best dorn  kwrz v
hd. Twoz led x n wthn 4♪♪♫ horntn korl drktli buv-thvan.  karnt dntft butth k&dd8s r: Chiming
Wedgebill (Psophodes occidentalis) thoe wr owtsd tzj; Singing Bushlark (Mirafra javanica)

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bkoz th  sez tz korlz nklued mimkri; Grey Shrike-thrush (Colluricincla harmonica) bkozth vois woz
soe flueti thoe nlk wot m uest2.  kood lso nCre-sted (Oreoica gutturalis), Peaceful
Dove (Geopelia placida),  Dove (Geopelia cuneata) & i uthrz. @ Toompine   n →
SA&NrIeGwA 2 kmpleet nO z had → ARTE POSTALE m@ial 2♂ ← thr 8 yzgoe (13/3. ←
GULF TRIP: “27.08.97 BOTTLES & CARTONS ARE RECYCLABLE. PLEASE DISPOSE
THOUGHTFULLY. ¶ Dire +droid, I hestitate to bother such a sophistikated (new york lifuania) guy as
you who knows everythink already from your university type readin and diskushion with the trivial
details of my trip. But I will anyway (6.50am – the sun has just risen). A few days ago I found
something I've been looking for for years – a pub that has only dirt road approaches. There are
plenty of remote towns eg. Wanaaring, Hungerford (etc) that you can only get to on dirt but they
invariably have a central strip, even if only a couple of hundred yards long, that is sealed. So the
pubs in these towns are on bitumen. I have long harboured the romantic notion that I want to drink in
a pub on dirt. Toompine is such a pub. Like the Boorooban pub it is a left over from the Cobb & Co
coaching days and there is nothing else left in either place except the pub and a name on the map.
Toompine is a beautiful building (wood verandah) full of great pictures from the pioneering era. It is
also run by a woman with a baby not much older than yours. These places don’t get enough
customers to provide a livelihood for more than one person so the husband has to have another job,
eg. shearing, trucking. The pub at Stonehenge (north of Jundah) is the same. The Toompine pub has
a very tiny intimate bar but a great area overlooking the plain under the verandah. We must have a
drink there one day. In order to survive these pubs turn themselves into living museums hoping to
attract tourists and because they are really proud of their history of which they have heaps. However
they are going under, one by one. It’s a FUCKEN SHAME! The government should be doing sumptin
bout it! You should be. Get the faculty onto it! Stand up and be counted. Show that you aint called an
ENVIRO SHRINK for nuffink! These ‘museums’ need to be subsidised instead of huge sums being
spent on things like the ‘Stockmans Hall of Fame’ at Longreach, to which I didn’t go cause it costs
$15 of beer money (5 stubbies). By the way, I have rejoined the tourist mainstream when I got to the
Matilda Highway at Longreach (where maximums are around 30 degrees daily right now) and it’s a
downer. I feel trapped, the roadsides are fenced. I don’t know if I will be able to get off that conveyor
belt. It’s a learnin experience but. In the meantime I am speedin north (23/3. ← GULF TRIP :
“26.08.97 ¶ DON’T KNOW WHERE OR WHY BUT HAVE DECIDED TO GET THERE FAST ¶ a
… z ¶ Longreach Q. L.. D.” & “26.08.97 Longreach Q. L. D. ¶ Maxi CUBE ¶ FRUEHAUF ¶ GO TO
SLEEP ¶ MEET YOUR MAKER AT HIGH SPEED ¶ a … z.” & “02.09.97 h e l l ¶ SPEED THRILLS
¶ BREAK THE SOUND BARRIER AND ¶ MEET YOUR MAKER IN ONE GO” & “03.09.97 Trucks ¶
COP THAT”). Regarding the pigs (23/3. ← GULF TRIP : “23.08.97. ROYAL MAIL HOTEL
Hungerford QLD ¶ Saw a feral pig eating a roo carcass by the side of the road on the way to Yowah.
¶ a … z ¶ Yowah QLD”) that eat carrion on the roadside. Once you’ve seen it it makes them look ugly
after(I sprung a real big one while I was bird watching a few days back)wards. Makes you wonder
what the cockies feed them in those big factory farms. Remember that here in QLD they were
feeding STEAMED chicken shit to cattle before they were stopped. And pigs eat anything! The
muslims may be onto sumptin by not eating pork. Change of topic: Jundah is very garden conscious
in an ‘arid desert’ kind of way. Gives the place a great feel. All the very bright bouganvillea type stuff
is in flower now. You’d also love Yowah with the junk ‘gardens’. Landscapes of resistance? Defiant
gardens? Power to the Prof. ¶ a …z down the road to Cloncurry”.) whn  dd th@ prjkt. Nth@
kaezion  woz goen N↑ 2th Gulf, & E→ Caep Trblaeshn, then ↓S long theestrn bord, ie  wz, but
thswr doont ntiwz. Th ARTE POSTALE rtklz wr klktd & d x &rue & klaetd → npees ttld
GULF TRIP. Thrjnlz rnth pozshnv COaZdZrOiLaInNaI nlabellefrance. Whn  woz hthen  woz lso
doonn foetoe proejkt 4n st korld THE DINKUM AUSSIE STYLE FILE. Yowah (23/3. ← GULF
TRIP: “23.08.97 Yowah Q.L.D. ¶ Had to get out of the car for a before dawn. That meant digging
a hole in STONY GROUND. The spade was jammed under luggage. It was very cold – freezing! On
the road to Yowah. ¶ a…z ¶ cheers to the prof.”) feelz les primtv now thantdd t . Butth mzeez r
oeshz!! Ue kan  niwhr O h&  took dvantjvth free showr etc 4 th kmpleet werks – showr, ,
shaev, wash . Goodnt.
4/9/05 (Wingdings (no 66)). Lrst nt thvan nli got kruncht. Lukli th St Kilda vs
Adelaid gaem had just fnsht & d lnt → frunt dshbord 2 swchf thraedio wn  d n rvrsn  owrz

99
& wzaebl2 th nthnikv. T t d orlnt. Now gtnloedvths, tz how thprvljd liv: thsmornn ♀/♂ 4n
xtrlong 2th v  nth roofvth van. Soe w ddnt ↑ til 9.00. Thn w droevth15kz → Bellingen wchz n
owr listv prmyr OZZI z (v +d Halifax (nIngham QLD nth trpkl eest koest (6/4.  Tropika – 1
p1)) 2 thlist (wch nkluedz Beechworth, Vic. & Mullumbimbi, NSW & Yungaburra (6/4.  v mapn
Tropika – 2 p12) nAtherton)) bkoz w tr 2hv owr l@é wth ppr nth groovist kafé wkn fnd.
Ttookn long  2  th Weekend Australian.   baeknnegz 4 brki & H drue m @10shn 2
Czeslaw Miloszz kmt: “Once a writer is born into a family, that family is doomed”. W
droev ← Urunga → nbeutfl bakroed korld South Arm Rd wr w fowndn good ● 2  4 thnt 4
thfuechr. v dsdd th@ ftr brunch w shood drnk nnn swanki br vrlookn th H2O & soe w →
Nambucca wr w nue thr woz suchn1 &  drank 2 redz (H n lmnskwosh) zw knsuemd grlk bred wth
olv tapnrd, bazl pstoe & ☼drd tmrtoe. Thn w →d &  big  nth H2O. Now wr @ South West
Rocks (owtv Kempsey) nn pub wchz bn bilt sins w wr lrst h& wr m drnkn nv red. H drank kofi
&z goen 2 x nuthr butrskch bki. Thrr 9 uthr  nth huej br vrlookn th Macleay River (w wil zzzz x
thbank nx) & 10 TV skreenz. L8r l ↓ $1 → poekeez. Oyair, thkolniov fruet b@s (000,000z) n
Urungav lft th & w  t owtvth bakvth van nth bankvth rvr ndr nCoral  nflowr wr nBrown
Honeyeater (Lichmera indistincta) woz feedn nnktr.  spoez  shoodshn thrz bn nHURKN
(3/4. twz RINA) (SKLOEN n OZ; TFOON n NIPON (not2b knfuezd wth TORNAEDOEZ (WILI
WILIZ n OZ) wch r l& baest) n th USofA.
11/9/05. Wr rpeetn owrslvz ( Melbourne → Sydney p15 & 16). Nhuej v sueprb
foodz &i kndzvz (nkluedn maed Krupnikas) @ thBlansjaarz. Orl thr kidz r nth wrkplaes &
kkuemuel8n reelst8. Z  @ m rl@vz tz bvius w xmlf th skssfl mmgrnts nth LUCKY
COUNTRY. (Thrzn xlnt rtkl nystrdeez The Sydney Morning Herald p35 x RAaMlSaEnY ttld
“Second-raters are still in charge” kmtn n dHoOnRaNlEd hood d thprvius thrzdi).  mt
bth od1owt – thksntrk, th♂ hoo wairzth msmacht , pnshndoff nth gOzv nsanti. Thei orl doo jobz
wchr vlued nth kmuenti & 4 wch thr paed  wraz  doon kndv n. 2nt wlb @ thGarricks
(17/11/10. r GARlRoIuCK & GamRaRtItCK) 4 thfnl Ovn & n & b-n td lk roilti. Tzth
dvntjv b-n thlrst srvvn ♂ vth rjnl ŽIŽYS (9/4. 12/4/03 – 24/4/03 p11,12) famli ( Elena’s
Journey x Elena Jonaitis © 1997. Text Publishing Co.) hoo mgr8d → OZ n1949 (7/4. tmustvbn
hrd4 mfrthr, nnon vrbl ♂, 2 theez z → mgdfthr Napoleonas. Ftr m fthrz  Napoleonas  dm
→ mmum nOZ. L8r Eglė t sl8d & bowndm →2 nfmli : “THREE LETTERS FROM AUSTRALIA
¶ These three letters were written by our father Vytautas Žižys to his cousin and best
friend Napoleonas Markiewicz. ¶ They tell the story of his emigration and settlement in
Australia. ¶¶ 14 Leonard St ¶ Northcote, N16, Vic ¶ Australia ¶ 31 October 1960 ¶ Dear
Napoleonas, ¶ I promised to write a second letter soon, but later I thought I’d better wait
for your reply. But not receiving your reply, I am writing to you again. ¶ I’m really
pleased that you wrote to me. Apart from my family, I have no written contact with
either my relatives or my friends, because I don’t know where everyone is living and I
don’t know if my friendship is wanted. So I am very pleased to be able to write to you
about at least some of the misfortunes and experiences which I have gone through with
my family. Just as much, I want to hear about your sorrows and joys. ¶ We left Lithuania
in July 1944, we were evacuated together with the workers of the “Aga” factory. After
crossing the German border, my wife, with two small children (Arūnas was 2½, and Rasa,
7 months), travelled on to Vienna, to some acquaintance or other, and I was arrested on
the border, where after one day’s questioning, they let me go, later I had to go and work
in various jobs near Koenigsburg. My wife, having got to Vienna, got into difficulty
because that “friend” of hers wouldn’t take them in: she had to make her way through
the camps and only after a month, when I made contact with her, there was the
opportunity to move her and the children into a small village near the Danube not far
from Deggendorf in Bavaria. Later, before the war ended I also managed to leave work
and join up with the family. The end of the war found us not far from Regensburg in
Bavaria, where we lived in a village. ¶ Later, from there, where we met up with the
American army, we moved to Augsburg also in Bavaria, where we lived in a displaced
persons’ camp together with other Lithuanians. Still before going to Augsburg, I located
a small truck and I managed to work transporting various things. Living in Augsburg I

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started to work for the Americans in the US guards unit, where I worked as an officer for
about two years in various German towns: Manheim, Wurzburg, Bad Kissingen and
Keiserslauterne. Later, as I wanted to emigrate, I left that employment and moved with
the family to Stuttgart (to a camp) from which we emigrated to Australia. In Stuttgart we
had a third child – our son Saulius-Tomas who, having reached 5 months died in Italy, in
Naples. We lived in Italy 3 months and got onto a boat in September 1949. We travelled
via the Suez to Australia. We got out at Sydney harbour, we were sent to a processing
camp at Bathurst (about 200 miles west of Sydney). Having lived there a few months,
my wife and children moved to Sale township in the state of Victoria, about 140 miles to
the east from Melbourne, where through correspondence she got a teaching job at a
convent school. After a few months, they also let me out of the camp and I got a job in
the hospital in Sale township as a sanitary worker, and later, working as a boiler
attendant. After spending 3 years at the hospital, I passed the radio technologist’s
exams and got a job working in the same town in the government radio station (radio-
phone), my wife meanwhile, through correspondence, while teaching and bringing up
the children, finished a degree at Melbourne University. Then we had another child – a
daughter, named Egle (born in 1953). Not long after that I got a job in another
government radio station in Melbourne, where the whole family moved. When we lived
in Sale, we saved some money and we bought a small house in Melbourne. My wife got a
job again in a private school but soon went onto a better paid government high school. I
started studying radio technology at night in the Engineers College and got my
Engineers’ Diploma and with the help of that diploma, 1½ years ago, I got a job as an
electronics engineer in the Government Patents Office, where I am still working. My wife
continues to teach successfully and has reached quite a high level as a teacher. She
teaches French, German, Latin and Science. While I was still living in Sale I bought an old
Ford, which I later sold and bought a new Volkswagon a couple of years ago. It hasn’t
been easy to live in Australia, especially from the beginning because when we came
here we didn’t have a cent, and with two small children, we had to quickly grab at work,
just to survive. The biggest difficulty was to get a home, because no- one here wants to
rent. That happens because of some strange government regulation which does not
allow the price of rent to rise. We were lucky to get a small place straight away in that
little town near the school where my wife was teaching. Because food and clothing is
quite cheap, we later managed reasonably. The children are growing up healthy and
strong and we also don’t feel too bad. We are soon planning to move from Melbourne to
Canberra to live (Australia’s capital) because they have to move the Patents Office
where I am working. In Canberra I will get a government house, and I will sell mine.
Probably it will happen in about a year’s time. Well that is roughly my and my family’s
story of woe. I havent gone into details here. Some terrible things happened at the end
of the war in Germany, a few times we just escaped death. Our start in Australia wasn’t
pleasant either – no-one met us here with bread and salt. It was good that both I and my
wife could speak reasonable English, that means a great deal in a foreign country. For
my wife and I, our knowledge of the language allowed us to be able to study
immediately, which we did. ¶ I was going to send some photographs, but I don’t want to
send any old ones, because they wont accurately show what we look like. I had a new
film developed but they didn’t come out well, so I’ll wait until I take a good photograph,
then I’ll send it to you. ¶ Somebody at home has already written about you and your
son’s visit to Lithuania. They didn’t write much, so please write what you saw there, in
Lithuania, and what you think of the lives of all our relatives. But first of all write about
yourself and your family’s life. ¶ Having now made an introduction to my life, I will later
write to you about our current life. Although I’ll wait until I get a letter from you, as I
don’t know if my letters have reached you. ¶ Best wishes to all of your family from all of
us. ¶ Vytautas. ¶¶ 14 Leonard St ¶ Northcote, N16, Vic ¶ Australia ¶ 10 February 1961 ¶
Dear Napoleonas, ¶ Thank you for the letter, and the Christmas greetings, as well as the
photographs (2) and for the Christmas Eve wafers. The photographs gave me great joy,
as I was able to see the faces of my relatives, whom I havent seen for 17 years. I have to
confess, that you are little changed, looking at the photo, I recognized you at once, - still

101
the same “Napolce”, who I knew in the old days in Lithuania. Stasys, although he doesn’t
look bad, has changed a great deal and looks much older than you. Jadzė is also little
changed. Your three families look well. Your wife, even though she’s older now, looks the
same as when I saw her in Ukmergė in 1944. Your son Mykolas (or Michaelis) reminds
me of you, when you were younger. ¶ It was great that we were able to share the wafers
you sent for our Christmas Eve dinner – in our thoughts we felt re-united with you. It was
also pleasing to hear that you have a warm feeling towards your birthplace, as it has not
always been friendly to you and that you had also felt the need to organize a group of
friends of Lithuania. (By the way, who is that engineer Markowicz who gave the lecture
about the Grunwald battle? There was an engineer Markowicz with us in the camp in
Germany, he later emigrated to Venezuela. He was quite an elderly man.) ¶ The five of
us are well at the moment. We have just returned from a summer holiday, which we
spent about 200 miles (300 kms) to the east from Melbourne near the sea and lakes.
That place is called Lakes Entrance and it is like Kuršiu Marios near Klaipėda, because
here as well a narrow sandspit divides the lakes from the ocean. My wife and both
daughters have started their school year, you see in Australia schools start in February.
My wife’s school is about 2½ miles away, to which she drives in her own car and where
she is teaching French and Latin. My daughter Rasa (17) started matriculation and little
Eglė (7½) has just started 3rd grade in primary school. My son Arūnas will start his
studies at the beginning of March, so he’s still got a few weeks of holidays, he’s in his
second year of humanities studies, altogether the course takes four years (if all goes
well). His main areas of study are English language and history. When he finishes he will
probably become a high school teacher. (In Australia a teacher’s salary is similar to an
engineer). My older children don’t display any particular talents, but they are quite
tenacious and conscientious. I tried to have them both learn music, but it didn’t work for
neither has a musical ear. Rasa isnt too bad at drawing. Both are not bad sportsmen –
good swimmers. Rasa is her school’s running champion, she’s the fastest girl in her
school. ¶ I am still working in the Patents Office and if there arent any unexpected
problems I will be there until I get the pension (at 65). Not long ago I got a promotion at
work, because I passed some exams in law for that reason, last year I was studying in
the Faculty of Law, where I had to study Introduction to Law, and Patents Law. To put it
another way, in order to be qualified as a Patents Examiner, it is not enough to be an
engineer, you have to be well versed in the law as well. After a year or so, I’ll have to
move from Melbourne to Canberra (Australia’s capital), because the whole Patents Office
is moving there. My wife will also try to get a teaching job there. ¶ Economically we are
living not too badly, although after we pay off all our debts and bills, there is no money
left for entertainment. We have bought a wooden house, for which I still have to pay to
the bank, while I have paid for the car already. Food and clothing arent expensive here.
If you’re interested, I can let you know the costs of various foods and things, and
measure these against earnings. ¶ There are about 8000 Lithuanians in Australia, who
came here after the second World War. About 1500 Lithuanians live in Melbourne. In our
private life, we mainly associate with other Lithuanian families: almost every week we
either go somewhere or someone comes over to our place. Sometimes we get together
for a ball organized by the Lithuanian community, up to 300 people may attend. In
Melbourne we have a Lithuanian priest, who holds Lithuanian mass, even though we are
not allowed to set up our own parish. ¶ When I think of the past, it seems that our two
lives have certain parallels. We both started our lives without assistance. From your side,
you spent a lot helping your brothers with their schooling, especially Stasys (Stasys
would probably never have become a doctor without your help), and I from my side, paid
off all the debts accumulated by Jonas’ and Juozas’ studies and have helped Juozas find
his feet, when he finished his course. Now the two of us, having left our native land,
have become colleagues in the same engineering profession. ¶ Even though I have been
writing to Juozas and his family, your writing of our relatives lives is much fuller and I
have learnt things, which Juozas hasn’t written to me. It still isnt clear to me why Juozas
and his wife were sent to Siberia, and why it was that Juozas was living on his own in
Poland. I keep asking him that in my letters, but he hasn’t responded. ¶ I havent got a

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single letter or greeting from my brother Jonas, although his older son Saulius (who has
already finished his course at the polytechnic institute) sometimes writes to Arūnas. ¶
The time which we have been separated has been so long and so eventful that it will still
take some time until we can fully reconstruct together again and fill in the unknown
parts through our letters, so to make sure we don’t also forget the present I will write a
few words about our daily life. Of those people who live in Melbourne, I knew a few from
Lithuania, but most were people I didn’t know, who we met here. By the way, your friend
Leonas Kanas and his brother Paul live in Australia in Adelaide. I havent met them
because Adelaide is about 1000 kms from Melbourne, but people have recently told me
that they are both living well: Leonas is working as an engineer in the City Council, and
Paul is working as a manager of a factory. They have both married. They both are part of
the Lithuanian Community, Paul was for some time the leader of a Lithuanian theatre
group in Adelaide (I read it in the newspaper). ¶ When you have some spare time write
to us again. We would be interested to learn more about your everyday life and worries.
Did you get the photos I sent you? During the holidays I took quite a few new photos and
if they come out well, I’ll send them in the next letter. ¶ Best wishes from me to your
wife and son. My wife and children send everyone their greetings. ¶ Yours, Vytautas. ¶¶
28 September 1962 ¶ Dear Napoleonas! ¶ I havent heard from you for a long time,
although I have got a few cards – one, during Easter, another from your wife from
Zakopane. Besides, I also got one issue of “Aušra”. Thanks for all of that. I understand
that you are busy working, because you’re left at home on your own, while your family is
away holidaying in the mountains. ¶ It happens, that when we write so rarely to each
other, that later you don’t know where to start and what to write about. Lately for some
reason I’ve been feeling so worn down by work that I havent had time to write even to
my closest family. At this moment as I am on holidays and feeling a little recovered, I am
hurrying to write to you. And I am writing the letter from my villa! To tell the truth, this
villa is as far from a real villa as water is different from porridge (devintas vanduo nuo
kisieliaus). It happened that a few months ago, we bought a block of land about 20
kilometres from Melbourne, near some hills and on the river’s edge, in the bush. On that
block (20 x 100m) was a little shack – this is the villa I refer to. Later we hope to build
quite a decent villa here, so that the whole family can live here during the holidays. At
this stage I’m here on my own, and I am resting away from the noise of the big city and
the joys of family life. This area is not wild, because it is not too far from the big city, and
some people are already living around here, there is electricity, soon they will be putting
in piped water. Tomorrow my wife will come or my son Arūnas and I will again go back to
“civilization” that is, I’ll be finishing my holiday and returning home. ¶ We are all the
same, as we were a year ago. My wife and I are working in the same jobs, the children
are studying – Arūnas – in his third year in the humanities faculty, my daughter Rasa, in
first year in the architecture faculty. If they both finish well, Arūnas will still have one
more year of study, and Rasa – four years. Both children have scholarships and I don’t
have to pay their fees. ¶ How long were your wife and son Mykolas in the Tatra
mountains, and is it their first time in those mountains? And you? Have you ever been in
the Tatra? From what you tell, it seems that life in Poland is little different from what it
was before the war. ¶ Now a little about your godson. Recently he has felt a real man
because he is now 21 (August 19). He no longer ruins my car, because he has learnt to
drive well, he has started going out with girls, and there are at least a couple of
Lithuanian students who have their hearts set on him. He is doing well with his studies. ¶
Last year he finished his second year very well. He passed all his four subjects and for
three he got first class honours. He likes songs and he has joined the Lithuanian choir. ¶
Truly, I don’t know what else to write, because I don’t know what will interest you and
your family, apart from our personal lives. ¶ I’ve added a photo of our “villa” with my
wife in front. ¶ Best wishes to you and your family from my wife and myself. ¶ Your
Vytautas ¶ Best wishes from Arūnas as well. V. ¶¶ Postscript: ¶ Vytautas Simonas Žižys
died in the Austin Hospital just under a year after this letter was written – his last to
Napoleonas, his cousin (their mothers were sisters) and dearest friend. He was already
sick with cancer at the time of writing this letter, although he wasn’t aware of this at the

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time.”).  stl rmmbr wn w d thrue thz nth AMARAPOORA nn ☼i dae prst th red rooft z 2
dok nn mgnfsnt hrbr nxt2th SYDNEY HRBR BRJ. Now Eglė znchrjvth hrtj z vth hrbr & Joez n ftr
naevi . But  sns n a zO2b knkluedd & m foolv ppr shn.
(3/8/10. Completion of days from folder 7 (nos 62 – 66 of Og))

21/5/06 (Litho Trip 2 (on CD ttld: ALL THAT WAS ALL THAT WILL BE)). (8am) Browzn th
shops @ th airprt. Got2 kil til dn @ 10.25 (Austrian Airlines. Flight OS 833 (Flight operated by
Tyrolean Airways)). Depart Vienna/Schwechat Airprt: 1055. Arrive Vilnius (Vilnius Arpt: 1400 (02 hrs
05 mins). Aircraft – Canadair Regional Jet Class: Economy/Coach). A kofi kosts E3.40 (E1 = $A1.70)
ie neerli $A6. M not spndn muni til  get2 Vilnius. Ue kan get a good free map vth siti @ th toorst
nfo. Buss →  vri 15 mns @ E6 1wae. Th nue wch oenli taeks 16 mns kosts E9. Both stop just
nth HOTEL POST (Wagner, Nietszche, Haydn, Janacek, Mozart orl staed thr) whr l b 4 nweek
nth wae bak norgust. Just torkt 2n ndian g hooz n10s proe & haz bn → Sydney. ♂ woz taekn 2
yung (wth muthr) ndian ♀z → traenn kamp nMajorca….O&O thairprt shops &  ddnt  nsngl thng
 m wont uthr thn nbt 2 eet wch woz 2 pr….I’ll write this in english because money is
involved. I neerly saved E250 in Vienna when I went to gate 46 to catch the as an
announcement was being made from the desk that the flight was over ed so anyone who was
prepared to go to Vilnius via Munich arriving in Vilnius at about 5pm was offered E150 in cash or a
voucher of E250 to be used with Austrian airlines. Having had no sleep since fridae night I was
dithering whether the extra effort and getting there 4 hours later was worth it when the owner of the
last excess ticket took up the offer just as I stept forward. I wasn’t very disappointed. My neighbour
on the flight was an izraeli manager of a farmaceutical company who sed Vilnius old town was very
beautiful compared to others in europe. As we were landing at Vilnius airport I saw my first Kranklys
(Corvus Corax) one of the biggest birds in litho. (Im drinking ‘Čepkeliu’ trauktine & its delicious (
Šauliai p11)). As we were coming into the airport a litho couple with whom Id got into conversation
and who were on their way home from a weekend in Paris advised me that I could get into Vilnius city
by shuttle taxi at about 30Lt (ie about E8.50 or $A14.50) but that a bus, which on week days at least
is frequent, is part of the metropolitan service and is only a few Lt. But I got on one of the privately
run micro buses which run almost continuously and got into the city for 2Lt. That’s the advantage that
knowing the language gives you. In Gedimino Prospektas I had a great beer (Karaliaučiai) with a side
 of rollmops & assorted relishes for 6Lt (ie less than a price of a cup of latte in Melbourne) (I had
exchanged my 200 euros, none of which I had used, into Lts at the airport for E1 = 3.5 Lt. Then on a
day which was a bleak, cold, windy & more y than a midwinter day in Melbourne I went searching
for a place to stay and here I am at a bleak derelict soviet style hotel (11 storeys) (like the one I
stayed at in Šiauliai ( Šauliai p1 (9/8/10. @ mi www.scribd.com st)) but much much worse. I
wont bother describing it as it is impossible to imagine for a westerner. The rent per night (no receipt
and no guarantee your gear is secure) is 25Lt & its only 5-10 mins from the edge of ‘old town’. & I luv
it. From my window on the 7th floor I have a full view of the Vilnius television tower an iconic symbol of
resistance and independence for every litho. So here I am in the centre of Vilnius paying less for my
daily accomodation than the price of two coffees in Vienna airport. The prices in the cafes have not
gone up since I was last here two years ago so I indulged a bit. Later I rang KABArIaLsAaITE & find
that her mum Meilutė has had a massive attack and is in hospital where Rasa and the rest of the
family are mounting a daily vigil. So I don’t know when we will be able to meet up but at least we
agreed Id ring on Wednesday evening to try to arrange a meeting. Then I rang VIŠNIrAaUySKAS as
KEdSaMnIiNuAsS had suggested and to pass on best wishes from his mum. Ray, who is from
Melbourne, puts out an english language magazine on lithuanian affairs. Ill catch up with him
tomorrow evening so he can show me the LITERATŪRU KAVINE (writers hangout). My neighbour
with whom I share toilet and washroom has come in (10.15) & I can hear his every twitch. I hope he
has had a hard day and hits the sack soon as Im fucked & am about to hit the sack . He might as well
be in the room with me as the sound proofing is as good as absent. There are weird plumbing noises
too.
28/5/06. LfOrVaEnCkE sumz hoests nvztn poetri r vth avantgarde vrieti & erjd mi 2
konkt↑ (or4 him 2 knkt mi↑) wth schn n, ft xsts, h but ie koodntv bn lookt ftr betr thn x Albina &
now no wott feelz lk 2b nslebrti (nth modst waev avantgarde rz hoor toetli nnoen owtsied thr

104
ntmaet Oz) – tsn trifk feeln; m boeld ovr. Thoe m pieces get snt → ♀ x ♀r bruthr Rimas wn hi
rmmbrz (thoe  giv ♂m x2 kopeez) v onli xchaenjd th breefst sntns wth ♀r on O 3 kkaeznz. Thoe
♀z stil @ wrk (skoolz doent kloez til thndv nxt week) ♀ sloggd frdae evnn serchn 4
thcheepst komodaeshn (& had ofrdt 4 FREE onn m@rs nn s room @ ♀r plaes) n Druskininkai (15
nue hoetlz goin↑ n1 y) nn holdai weeknd. ♀ rzrvd nroom n1 plaes uezn ♀r nfluens 2 ↓ th prs from
75Lt 2 60Lt/n & ♀ loekaetd fan pprtmnts th@ rbein prvtli rntd 1v wch  kan hav @ 30Lt/nt
from mundi – friedi. & ♀ found & chkt owt roomz nths plaes wchz njgan soviet stl monolth wth
nbad rpuetaeshn x sum but zvaelbl @ nli 22Lt/niet. (1/7/06. I can see I have lost his heart to another – I
cant compete with cut prices or adoring fans!) Faktz m getn2 lk ths sortv plaes. Ue get th bair
mnmum (1/3 vn toilt roel, 1 tI soep) but yorn wth rdnri ppl. m nth 2nd (1st nOZ) flor wth m own
toilt & bath & tz kwiet & prvt. Thrz nreehab wing † th foir from mi & ie  old ♂♂ strugln n&owt
nworknstiks. M room noez 234 &  hav2 dmit tz priti kold rt now @ 8.05am. Twoz freezn orldai
owtsied ystrdi. But  kan keep worm wth nkkaeznionl sipv ČEPKELIU (trautkine 36%).  rang
Alvinaz moebiel (vr1 hhaz1) from thstaeshn (whr n ♀ sits @ ntaebl x thtoilt ntri & chrjz ue 50c 4n
PISS & ishuez ue wthn tikt ( sed wot m  supoezd 2doo wtht & ♀ sed 0)) & ♀ woz thr 1/2n hour
laetr havn →d fromth uthr ndv town. ♀ haz tranzlaetd nbtv m n ← IN TRANSIT wch ♀ wil show
mi nmundi wn ♀ kums h @ 10am 2 trnsfr mi →2 nbetr pprtmnt (@ 30Lt) thoe m OK h. Yair tz
good TO BE FA . Thrz nmaejr evnt on oevr th weeknd wch prports 2b n rvvlv sum trdshnl
get2gthr thei uezd2hav h& sound staej & storlz seln nknks & food Vilniaus al. nx. Th fstvteez
wnton → 2am but th staej faesz wae from th hoetl &t woz quiet h. Th NEMUNAS rvr znx & tz
magnfsnt: wd & flowin strong lk no rivr nOZ. Ie workd both drkshnz long maed & wltrodn pathz til
ie woz nakrd. Nth eevn ie 1drd mung thstorlz & lstnd 2n bitv anglo-world-pop MUEZAK. Ie 8 (erlier
Albina had •d ncheep eet kavine (kafe) whr ie t n1/2 ltrv beer (Utenos tamsu wchz reel good) &
nservv Žemaitiški Bulviniai Blynai (potaetoe pankaeks wth meetnm) 4 5.5Lt. Nth evnn ie 8 2servzv
frd fingerzv bred & nkibinas (kndv vdlishz litl ) wosht ↓wth nhoem maed brue. Twoz ↑ kolstrl
stopn stuf but  plan2 re4m. Ie suspkt theez vnts rth saem th O oevr (thei r goin2 maek Vilnius THE
TANGO KAPITAL veest EUROPA x sponsrn nmaejr yli fstvl) & r dznd 2 fil hoetlz. Butt woz njoibl
& Druskininkai z ntrstn 2 kmpair wth Nida wchz th nli uthr rzort town v bnn n . Tz wrth owt 
wil nevr gain travl loadd ↓ wth nsuetkaesv g. Tmaeks nhuej dfrns 2b ltli ladn. N smorl &n
sholdr bag zorl ue need.…Not rialiezn th@ th šaltibarščiai (borsh) wth th sd v spuds wood b nful
meel  had orlso ordrd pankaeks wth meet nthm so m stuft, orl 4 5.5Lt; rlier got graeps &
strorbreez (why karnt thei maekm this taesti nOZ?) @ th Maxima (sueprmrkt); →d O th 2 laeks nth
ejv town & drn th bginnv nlarj 4std  goen eestwrdz; had n vri good vuevn Smilginis Strazdas
(Turdus Pilaris) mung nuzhuali larj moel dignz; ystrdae sorn brown skwirl; oyair, 2vth &ien pp
plaerz r h seln plntiov CDz & thr orfl muezk. Wn  rstktft woz true thei had 2 giv sumv thr
ernnz → mafia hi sed noe thei kept orl.  doent bleev ♂m; sorn Karklažvirblis (Passer montanus)
ystrdae, &n vri bold Kikilis (Fringilla Coelebs) hopn O m feet 2dae….Sudnli flt trd & tookn
ftrnoon nap. Flt kold fully dressd on topvth blankts but koodnt b bothrd ndrssn & getn → bed
prprli. m trn owt on →s 2.  think m g10 OLD; th sheet ue putth blankts →2 zso worn thin ts
taerng part inmi h&z; both mi sox hav got Oz nthm; thsmornn ie bzrvd northodox servs nth smorl
woodn blue cerkve nth park nf tovth hoetl. Thr wr smoek effects from bhnd a skreen much th
saem zue getn nsound staej. Then thpreest appearz thrue a goldn door swingn n censer; erlier  sor
n proesession where th preest & altar boyz came outv thkathlk cherch holdn > nfruntv him & carried it
right O th chrch followd x th congregaeshn (moestliv oldeez) singing ALELUEJA ALELUEJA in
nbeautiful mornful toen; ther woz n old ♀ propt↑ @ th cherch ntrans dsplaein nhuejli swoeln leg wth
blueired splotchz so  gaev ♀r mi smorl chaenj…. tn v (maed n ) 4 0.8Lt; t x2 biros &
nglue stik @ nshop buvth Maxima sprmrkt & wn  had trubl x n wot  wontd ♀ sed “kalbėk
rusiškai” (“speak russian”) soe  told ♀ m nli uthr langwj woz nglsh; tz n & vri kold owtsd & 1s
m xpnsv BOSTON mbrlla gets prprli wet dropsv H2O goe strait thruet; th fstvl zhavnn bad  vt wth
th wethr but  sor th ♀ wth thlfnt leg (thr r oepn sorz nt) sitn nth concreet dsplaen ♀r leg nth ; nth
staej thr wozn gruep dooin ndans wth ♀♀ nbair legz, sholdrz & mdrfs; n ¼tt sang ‘Pretty ♀’ orfly
wchzn piti coz thr r meni rus speekrz h & rus pop (šlageriai) zreel good….Ie had balandėliai
(cabbage) roelz @ 5Lt & Utenos dark (500mlzv xlnt bljn ($5+ 4n 330ml stubby nMelbourne) stl b)
@ 2.5Lt ie nxlnt meel 4 ndr $A4. Twoz @ thkavine rkmmdd x Albina &t haz m rkmmd8shn 2. Tz
105
korld BEBENČIUKAS &t knsistsv 1 room no lrjr than owr lownj/TV room nMelbourne. Thr r 5 taeblz
th@ kood t 4 eech @ thmoest. Thz kwt nlrj mnue & taestful dekor. W wood hav noe hoepv
fndn ths kndv plaes wn w → talia ztz thlarst plaes  woodv gon2 hzt duznt dror @10shn 2tslf.
Ftrwrdz  showrd & wosht mi thoe thei probli ddnt needt n zth panti rz werk so wl. 8.20pm.
….
4/6/06.  shood mnshn th@th kostv npis @th maen Vilnius busstaeshn z1Lt.  went
→2 kuebkl koz m getn mbarst @th lnthv   hav2 jigl 2 dskuvr 2 m srprz th@tz nOnthgO
tp toelt whr ue hv2 skwot↓. Ue got2 feel sori4 oldmn wth prostaet prlbmz: tkeepsm fit butt maeksm
. Nth maen skshn n♀ woz mopn thflor bhnd th mn zthei wr pisn →2 th urnlz. ♀♀ doo vrithn
nlithoel&. Xthwae, th toilt h& lso nth Nemunas nDruskininkae zv th knd  1st n ntrd nth
Metropolis nKaunas nm larst trip whr th zdpostd ↓2 nshaloe dishlik bowl soe ue getn good
stvt b4 ue flusht↓.  woz moest sprzd 2fnd thsaem stl nues nth Vienna airport wchz zmodrn
zuekangt. m not goin 2 dskrb m 2n&froen 4 threstv thdae (je suis un flâneur) ksept 2 giv
nnkountvn COINSIDENCE. Ftrwrdz reed Freudz Das Umliche (The Uncanny) & dsd 4 yorslf
wthr ♂z ksplnaeshn zdkwet. @ O 5pm  s@↓ 4 nmeelv cepelinai & n500 vdark Biržos b nth
siedwork taebl vth Alude Tavern nth †v Gaono g. (neer whrt bkumz Žydu g.) & Stikliu g.  wontd
2join nO ztwoz nmeel @ ths vri • wch led2 n reez vdskuvreez & rflkshnz nth merdr vth jwz vVilnius
wch wr vri mportnt 2mi & wch  hd hoepd wood kloez ntopk th@ hd horntd mi 4 yz.  oevrherd th
♀ vn ♀/♂ vm aej @th nkst taebl sae nfue wrdz 2th waetr ninglsh wch soundd tralian. Soe 
rkst th ♂ fthei wr dinkid ozzeez & ♂ sed thei wr. Soe  rkst thm fthei wr from Melbourne & thei sed
thei wr. Soe  rkst thm from wch subrb & thei sed from South Yarra wchz O wot  wood hv thort
from th ♀z prv@ skool ksnt. th@ shood hav bn thndvt butt ternd owt w nue ppl nkomn. ♂z naemz
kKeAvNiEn & ♂ had noen ZDANkAaVzIyČIUS.  told ♂m  nue Kazys (nlthoe) kwt wl & w boeth
hd 5 kidz th 2 ldstvwch wr thsaem aej.  told ♂m th@ Kazys hd chaenjd ♂z srnaem 2 Zdanius. ♂
sed ♂ wozn frndov & hd dun mdsin wth KAkZaLrAoUlSiKsAS hoo hd bn nbst frndvmn 4 sum yz
wn wwr kidz & Elaine & Karolis hadbn frndz wth mi & H laetr. ♂ sed ♂ hdhd ngrlfrnd korld Dana & 
sed  havn fotoe nmie lbum wth m rm Othsholdrzv Lucija (Lucy) hoo woz Danaz sstr. Thn ♂ rkst
mi fd noenn ZaUlBbReArSt wth hoom ♂ hdhd frkwnt dskushnz. ♂ rmmbrd how tsmi
ZaUlBbReArSt hdbn. ♂ 1drd O thmportnsv aZlUbBeRrAtSas nth lthoe kmuenti &  told ♂m how ♂
wozn persnv sum sgnfk & th@ ftr ♂ hd kum 2th @10shnv thkmishn set↑ 2nvstg8 workrmz ♂
hd renvntd ♂mslf zn frndvthjwz. Nfakt aZlUbBeRrAtSas hdbn nteechrv lithoe histri & lithoe lngwj 2 mi,
Karolis & meni uthrz nth ‘kmuenti’ 4nlong . ♂ hd bn thsbjktv ntns dskshn btween mi &
sVaAuRlNiAuSs hoo had rliedon aZlUbBeRrAtSasz 1stkkountsv wotz noen 2 nonjwsh lithoes zth
ntisoviet prtzn ↑rzn butz rmmbrd x litvaks znpogrom whr 000z wr mrdrd. aZlUbBeRrAtSas hd
klaemd nroel (štabo narys) nth ↑rzn wch took plaes juern thdae & nt prr 2th rrvlv th z
nKaunas njuen 41. sVaAuRlNiAuSs hood mgr8d → OZ laetrt nshl s hd nevr noen Albertas 2b
tsm nfakt thppsit & f rmmbr rtli A.Z. hd told Saulius how ♂ hd stood↑ 4 jwz & maeb helpt
nsaevn sum. Saulius hd rld nth vrzhionv vnts givn x Albertas 2klaim noe maejr pogrom azklaemd x
thjwz hdrkoodhvhd taekn plaes evn thoe Albertas hd dmitd 2not havn been nViliampolė r 2b kwaentd
wththwerd Slobodka wch woz thwerd nkomn uesj 4 thsubrbv Viliampolė whr kkordn 2 jwsh sorsz
thslortr hdtaekn plaes. (th ♀/♂ nth room↑ rvrbln chuthr on&on). Twoz Albrts vrzhionv vnts hdbn
1vth S OF CONTENTION oevr yzv krspondns btween mi & Saulius. Tz wrth n th@ thkmishn
nvstg8n workrmz ddnt nshi8 prodnz vs AZ rni1ls @n kspns 2 tkzpaerzv OZ vsum 20 mlion $$ (&
sum kntnuen kspnsz). Soe ue kan majn thmaen to v dskushn btween mi & Mr. kKeAvNiEn
(“F.R.C.S (Eng.) F.R.C.S. (Edin.), F.R.A.C.S. Rhinologist – Ear, Nose and Throat Surgeon”)
outsd th Alude Tavern @th †v Žydu, Gaono, & Stikliu gvs zhz wf kept yornn koz thei had nli
rrvd nth rvoe ←OZ. kKeAvNiEn had @ leest got sum sleep nth x taekn Stillnox tablts.  ks
d 2thm th@ wwr sitn wthn wot hdbn th maen & lrjst gtoe n & th@t woz ← hth@th litvaks v
wr taekn 2n 4st nPaneriai (Ponar) 2b shot. Th Kanez hd folowd m gzampl & rdrd cepelinai & thn
mi & Kevin hd nuthr b. Th kmbnd bil woz paed4 x Kevin soe  havnt gotn ret zvidnsv thvnt.
(how kan  b kspktd 2 rt wth thnoiz ↑?). v taekn2 klktn thm zn gzmplvth print w leev nowr
jerni thrue lf. L8r, @ 4pm JOrNiAmIaTsIS wl mi ↑→ 2 thr plaes. @ 8pm  hv2 rmmbr 2 O

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KABArIaLsAaITE. @ 2pm m guna tr2 O H nMelbourne. Now m → kavine nGedimino
Prospektas 4 nb wth sum silke….Rang H: ♀z nCairnz 19th-28th juen (home nth eevnnvth 28th);
torkt2 Ben & Dan: beet , Buckley kkt 6 goelz nthlarst ¼; Caracella out njrd 4-6
weeks. @ JOrNiAmIaTsIzS got ndvth poll st8vth cuntri & ntrnshnl stuf: st&off wth iran zmor
serius; heepsv nz nirak (th nst8td aemv thkoelshn @k nrark woz lwaez 2 rekt & 2nshor thkerdz
woodb klntz redi 2 rsk thyanks 4 hlp); got2 meet thO famli & gotth foen noes (mob & wrk) vMarius
hoo wil chckowt thcheep digz nKaunas; gaev noepl lauktuve 2m 4n gr&ortr but thei hvnt got1. Fnli
got thrue2 Rasa hool mi ↑ ftr 10am h; thplaes ♀ woz kampt@ nIgnalina (nuekliar raktr vth
saem dznz Chernobyl) zlsoe prprd 2 taekmi; Meilutė zn nsantorium nnuthr town 4 3 weeks. 10.55
& orlkwt ↑buv. Pessoa: “62 [34]…In order to create, I destroyed myself; I have externalized
so much of my inner life that even inside I now exist only externally. I am the living
stage across which various actors pass acting out different plays.”
11/6/06. Wn  looktowt thwndow @ 7.30 thsmornn orl  kood  woz blue, jstz ue mt
get ngoodold Melbourne ←n OZ. Wn  wnt 2th wl @th ndvth yrd 2wosh  woz aebl 2knfrm thr
woznt n nthsk nni drkshn. NDidzioji zyle (Parus major) woz cherpn nn oevrhd branch vn flowrn
fruet tree.  think thisz m 1st free dae vthntr p. Sumr zh @ larst. Insdntli probli orl old
stl vilj z rdznd soe ue goe owtsd 2wosh. Sins thrz noe H2O knktd 2th  thrr noe brthrm,
, r sink fsilteez. Tmaeks betr sns 2goe2whr thwl z r 2th PIRTI (sauna) nn spraet bildn nx. Nwintr
tkanb nhrdshp 4nold ♀ livn x ♀slf but notz bign hardshp zklktn, chopn, & stakn thwood 4 heetn th &
H2O. Thwoodplz O h rnormus, filn shedz & kuvrn ntr sdzv hausz ndr theevz. Ued think thr
woz nuf wood nm 2 larst 4 10 yz & 4 orl  noe maeb thr z. Old ppl bkum preokuepd wth staen
warm: thei hav2 fthr 2stae lv koopt↑ nsd thruen kold wintr. Tprobli keepsm fit but. Thneu brik
hausz rdznd long wstrn z wth ntrnl plumn & dpnd nth nue ekonmiov lktrsti, & h knsmpshnv
gas & oil. W betr maek shor thoez wlz nirrk, irarn, raebia & rusia keep pumpnt owt. ThJonaitisz nue
 nVilnius zbaest nn larj oepn plan wth plntiov from 2 lrj wndoez wch kkupie ½ nworl eech. Old
stl vilj hausz lk ths1 r fnli rotnowt zr thrmaenn old ppl hoo livnm & hoo stil rmmbr thvilj lfv
prwor wch thei hv trd 2 rekri8 wth spktaklr faeluer ftr thklapsvth mpr. Tz 9.10 & m goen
owtsd 2 klkt sum wood nkaest koolz↓ 2nt. Rasa & Rokas (yungr ☼) maeb kumn2 mi &  sed
d waetO 4m til 12. m n shortv splz & $$$. nt get $$$ x uezn nbankd rVISA zthr rnoe
faslteez nLabanoras. Mae hav2 nvstg8 thposbltiv doon ndae trip → Moletai (n1900 twoz nlmoest
ntrli jwsh town, n1941→ thrwoz nmaejr gtoe & kstrmnaeshn thr) x . Nwae l bgoen thrue thr l8r
nth week nm wae → Kaunas (JOmNaArIiTuIsS hz promst 2 chkwot thcheep digz) r → Rimeisei
(th (Žvirbliai) rrvd n nkuplv daezgoe) 13kz thsdv Ukmerge ferthr rlong throed ← Moletai →
Kaunas (x OZ st&rdz thdstnsz nvolvd rtni: Labanoras →25→ Moletai →45→ Ukmerge →71→
Kaunas) … wosht & tshrt…Perhaps what Im searching for are earlier (it would be too ambitious
and too conceited to hope to unearth the original ones) forms. Many years later when I reviewed the
poems that I had written over a couple of years in my early thirties (most of the best put out in these
writings) I woz surprised to discover there was a unifying thread ing through of which I had been
completely unaware - I have been preoccupied with TRANSFORMATION. Like the different ways of
describing (eg (A+B)² = A² +2AB +B²) a numerical quantity where each new  contains something
totally new though the original quantity is fully retained, visible only to those who seek, our languages
and literatures contain in hidden form the cries (call them primal screams if you like) & gurgles of the
infant. They are their elaboration and complexification yet are something new as different to an
infants squawking as a nuclear  is to a ♣.
18/6/06. Twoz nbitvn komk show 4nwl ystrdi. Ftr Martas rtaend thTV woznt werkn
th dsdd 2 kut th grrs (ŠIENAUTI) but 1 sth woz wornowt & thuthr hd n l misn. Soe Matas
sed theid kut↑ sum wood from thhuej plv berchwood logz theiv got wchz shaemfuli b-n lft 2rot. Soe
♂ nwownd thks10shn kord orlthwae2 thlog pl, ftcht thchaensor, & foundt woznt werkn. Soe thn thei
got nbig 2 sor wch  hd noetst hangn nth worlvth shed with thuthr anteek kwipmnt & got2werk wth
gr8 nerji but thsor woz rusti & woodnt kut. Thn thei got →2t wth nsortmntv litl sorz but thei wr uesls 2.
Thn thei got th owt but boethvthm hd loos hedz. Nthnd thei ddnt mnj 2 dt@ch nsingl peesv
wood fromtz muthr log. Not2wori thr woz nuf loos wood O 4 th & thsnagz toastd↑ fn. Indrė took

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fotoez wth ♀r vri fansi Minolta. Matas sez uevgot2b kairfl vth & th zboeth mae @ak.
Soe 2dae wn  found frsh traks  lft th. Thr rwoolvz nth 4st but thr vri shv ppl. Indrė sez ♀r
gr&pairnts bortn  nnvilj 2 rtr & thei lk thgrdnn, & , kutn wood etc. ♀z 24, zn kwalfd
fernchr rstorr butz getn nuthr kwalfkaeshn 2 fnd werk. Matas zstudien soeshl studeez & wrks lleegli
nnorwai  paen10 2get $$$. ♂ drvz nnue lookn Honda Civic. v bn mprssd wth wot v nv
yung ppl n & thr kpasti 2njoi chuthrz kumpni sitn O n wthout heepsv kwpmnt just torkn. Bkoz tz
m lrst dae v bn →n orl dae, moestli †kuntri thrue 4st, &m bit nakrd.  lft @ 10am wn thei wr stil
sleep & kaem ← ftr nkslnt swim nH2O wch woz kl& just nsli worm but stil rfrshn. @ 6 wn thei hd
lft stopt @ Labanoras 4 nmeel zuezhuel. Torkt2 nvri sofstk8d ♂ nngruep @th nxt taebl hoo sed
thvribst kafe nth O zth ŠMC kavine nth Rotušė nVilnius. Sed d chktowt.  sspkt ♂ wozn
ŽYDRAS. Indrė rkst mi how m aebl2 filn m daez orl x mslf 4 2 weeks. ♀ sez ♀d bfraed →n nth
4st x ♀rslf. Ppl of10 rks mi stuf lk th@. NOZ ppl uesd 2rks mi how  kood spnd nweek x mislf
nnsol8d koest livn from n . Butt duznt feel zf m x mislf bkoz m n.   2b red, noen th@ wn
 get ←OZ l bh&n m n owt 2frndz. Tzzf m torkn2 nkrowd vppl orlth. N♂z Meditations of
a Solitary Walker, wch ♂  @ thndv hz lf wn ♀ woz nfaems orthr, nvri nuro Rousseau maeks
thklaem rpeetdli th@ ♂  4 noe1 kspt ♂mslf.  doo thgzkt ppsit:   2b red x uthrz & noe1z eevn
herdvmi! Seriediškis & Labanoras hz bn good 4mi & th4stz zbuetfl zv n nwr. v rkst Matas 2rks
thKabailaz 2leev thz ndr thseekrt stoen soe th@ fm nth  & th znt nues  kn spnd thnt (eg
shood mi & Vaidas kum n & ♂ drops mioff 4n kuplv daez. (kan  nwoodpkr). H lft 4 Cairnz n☼i
QLD 2dae. 2moroe v got2k@ch thIgnalina/Kaunas  @ 8.20am (50 mins →2 Labanoras). Betr
get m stuf 2gthr….v stopt keepn kowntv how mni (thr vri lert) v n; th Juodoji Meleta
(Dryocopus Martius) (Black Woodpecker) maeks nsownd lk njak ; & ys,  sor BEEVRZ @
WERK, plntiovm, & gaev 1 nhuej sprz wn  krept↑ nt. “One should abandon all duties, even
those not demanded of us, reject all cosy hearths, even those that are not our own, live
on what is vague and vestigial, among the extravagant purples of madness and the false
lace of imagined majesties…To be something that does not feel the weight of the rain
outside, or the pain of inner emptiness…To wander with no soul, no thoughts, just pure
impersonal sensation, along winding mountain roads, through valleys hidden amongst
steep , distand, absorbed, ill fated…To lose oneself in landscapes like
paintings. To be nothing in distance and in colours…” Pessoa 127 [173]
25/6/06. Gintas (48, programmer), wife Ruta (41, lectures in telecommunications),
daughters Dainora 11, Gabia 11 (Rutaz); Saulius (46, director), Kristina (32, director), daughter
Augustė 4; Vaidas (41, gallery proprietor), wife Brigita (32, gallery proprietor), daughter Miglė 9.
Gintas, Saulius & Vaidas are bruthers: Žvirbliai (Žvirblis in lithoe singular (Žvirblis (Passer
domesticus (not to be confused with Passer montanus which is rare in OZ but much more common
here (& was the main sparrow I saw in Druskininkai))))). Gintas & Saulius etc rrvd frdae nt
(Joninės) wch ddnt nd 4us til 2am. Thwknd zvrimuch nbondn sshn 4 thŽvirblis bruthrz famleez - m
thod1owt. Th♀♀ feed th♂♂ & wosh↑ftrus ( wosh miown). Gintasz wdli red & wv bn dskusn
Evelyn Waugh, Kurt Vonnegut, Sebald, Kafka, & Chopper Reed. v rkomndd Thomas Bernhart.
Modernizm zk@chn↑ wth Rimeisiai: , nlornmowr, & nchaensor hvbn +d 2 thsth & uthr aenshnt
mplmnts V hz nhertd from ♂z gr&frthr. Thrz nlrj v lorn owthbak & thrz noelongr thfeelnv lush greenri
O 2oevrwlm th. Thbigst evnt 4mi sins th strk woz nlong sshn nth PIRTI lrst nt. V & bruthrz
bzeed thmslvz 4 howrz kutn↓ nlrj dd tree 4 fuel & kleern wae thgrs O thPIRTI. Mi & th3 bruthrz loeft O
naekd 4 nful howr @ ntmprchrv 60º. woz thinknv thwae roemnz bhaevd @th brthz rth japs stil doo.
But th epi v soeshlzn nth nued ndr kstreem kndshnz zth sornr klchrv finl&. W hd 2 kold woshz nth
Šešuola eech ksept4 Saulius hoohd 3. Tshor kleenz ue↑ 4 tht vnue y. Ftrwrdz th♀♀ hd neevn
longr bondn sshn. Vrthn w doo zkumpneed x eetn & drinkn & w ddnt get2 bed til 3am wn thr woz lredi
ngloe nth mornn sk.

2/7/06. The rang at 9.30 which gave me time to pick another handful of stawberries
from the patch in the back yard. I was wearing my jeans which despite the prominent patch were, in
my judgement, more formal than the shorts. The lady who with her husband is joint owner of the

108
premises assured me it made no difference and that hardly anyone went to anyway. Before
leaving I took out the two brochures of the Vilkija surrounds from my shoulder bag which I had been
carrying around since they were given to me on thursday. I noted for the first time that in the village of
Jaučakiai two kilometres along the road to Kaunas there is a memorial marking the place where jews
were murdered (“Žydu genocido vieta”.). Though I do not make linkages between catholicism
and the extermination of s jews they have come to reside in the same psychological space in a
way I cannot a for. I went to the service because the old woman who had given me and
biscuits in the hovel where she looked after her mother had urged me to go. At the time I was aware
that nothing I or any institution could ever do was capable of providing her and her mother with the
support provided by her religious beliefs. I was conscious of the example of Helen and the way she
had supported Vi in hospital and different aged care homes (6/8/06. But I never brought her into my
house to look after – she still died with strangers around her) in the last 5 years of her life. The
population of Raudonė (more a town with the appearance (many a yard has a resident ) of a
village) is about 700 (used to be about 900 before people dispersed looking for work) and there were
about 80 (including the 8 upstairs in the choir among whom was the mother of the owner of this
place; she told me she had seen me) at the mass about ½ of them older than me. A young man
wearing glasses in white vestments, barely more than a boy it seemed to me, came down the aisle to
the last pew to whisper something in an old woman’s  and I thought “gee, the priest is young” but it
turned out he was a large altar boy and in time the priest emerged wearing more impressive
garments. I have seen several n priests and this one was no exception. n males are round
headed (arbūzai, balvonai, kopūstai) and when they put on weight they tend to become jowly and
have puffy cheeks. Priests in particular tend to be well nourished which inevitably gives their eyes a
y look. So it was in this case. I have been told by a young priest sent from to service the
catholics of the n community in Melbourne that in priesthood is a lucrative profession. He was
reported to have exclaimed once after a few too many “what is man other than a vehicle for ing
and ing!” My father who grew up in a village claimed that every parish had a compliment of
women who were specially devoted and who derived their greatest pleasure from fussing over and
getting to kiss the priests ring. There was a special name for them but I cant remember it and I don’t
dare ask the lady in the choir whom I can hear downstairs washing up from last nights birthday party.
Apparently they were also talented at card games & especially at a game called ‘proferansas’ which
is related to ‘bridge’. There were no male voices in the choir which is a great shame as by

comparison to the russian orthodox service lithuanian singing is colourless though not nearly as
anaemic as that of the irish catholic tradition as practiced in melbourne. Nevertheless the opening
lines of the 1st hymn ‘Pulkim Ant Keliu’ (‘Lets fall to our knees’) had me misty-eyed – it was only the
second time on the trip (since the drinkers @ Labanoras) I have heard which was felt. The
service was much as I remember them. People stood↑ or knelt↓ according to what others did but on
one occasion confusion prevailed as the other side of the room were all standing whereas on my side
½ were standing & ½ were sitting↓ and then some started standing↑ while others sat↓ till the example
on the other side of the aisle was noted and prevailed. Later in the service a brief chain reaction was
triggered on the other side also when a couple of kids in the front abruptly sat↓ but realizing their
error presently stood↑ again. (1pm. Lunch (soup, meat, spuds & veggies, glassv GAIVA) has arrived).
I have long lost any notion of what the word GOD might signify and fail to understand how the
example of the prophet from Nazareth is augmented by adding it to his title (rather the reverse!).
Nonetheless looking around the room I tried to form a picture of how He might look from the faces
and bearing of the congregation. Apart from a few kids and a couple of young women whose necks
and bare shoulders were beautifully high ed by thick plaits tied with ribbons He looked aged,
unfashionable, mild, hesitant, careworn….4 t  8 ‘lėtiniai su mesa’ wchz meet raptn flour pankaeks
&z nfaevrt vmn. Ftr lunch BALsStEaVsIyČsIUS (♂z kard: **** Stasio Balsevičiaus KAIMO
TURISMO SODYBA 8-676-28552; 8-447-45367 (On ← oevrz rplaes th8 wth 370 wchz thkoed 4
) Jurbarko raj., Raudonė, Kaštonu 5) took mi 4ngdd 2r vwot uest2b th malūnas (mil prmrli 4
flour but rlsoe 4 kutn planks & vrius uthr trsks). ♂ grue↑ nRaudonė & wnt2skool nth sl bildn. Thd 5-
600 stuednts t but now tz ↓2 O 200. 0 z zt seemz. Th turet  hd lookt owtfrom woz bilt nsoviet z

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2 rplaes th1 th retree10 z hd ↑ 2 dprv thdvansn vnlookowt pozishn. Tznt ngzkt rplka. Thorjnl
woz 5 meetrz hr. Thfowntaenz & gr& stairwae ↓thhil 2 thmaen rd zoenli nmmriov thvriold. ♂ showd
mi thlaek shaept nth 4mv Napoleonz h@. 1v thoenrz hdbn nsuportrv Napoleon. ♂ showd mi th ron
br thsrfs uezd2b strapt2 2bflogd nvue ← thmaen bildn soe th kood . ♂ showd me thlrjst
stump  hd n n . Twozv noek wchz thort 2hvbn oevr 1000 yzold but woz stillv nth
mmriov Stasys. Tz korld GEDIMINO AŽUOLAS & tz sed Gediminas hd struk kamp xt n♂z prpchuel
worz wthth krauts. ♂ showd mi thmonumnt 2 O 130 soljrz hoo hd dd nx nth 41-45 wor. Thrz
nuthr monmnt 2 th soljrz nfue kzwae. m trd & wont2fnsh↑ but v rmmbrd nkupl mor thingz ←
thsmornns servs: thr woz nold♀ hoo kaemowt f t 2b blst xthpreest kozt woz ♀r brthdae. Thkwr
sang th vrzhnv Hapi Brthdae 2ue. Bett kost ♀r $$$$. Nth prtv thservs whr nOZ ppl shaek 
wth
thr neibrz & wthth ppl nfrunt & bhnd z oenli nod thr hedz rluktntli. Wn thklekshn pl8 woz prstO thr
woz nlotv ppr nt but  nvr  noe1 put ppr $$$z ↓2t.  rkn th$$$z wr putn xth oltr♂ 2 nkurj
jnrosti. Thei doent korlmi n sinik 4 0! “Just as some people work because they’re bored, I
sometimes  because I have nothing to say. My  is just like the reverie in which
someone avoiding thought would naturally immerse himself with the difference that I am
able to dream in prose. And I extract a great deal of sincere feeling and much legitimate
emotion out of not feeling.” – Pessoa 170 [293] 10.3.1931. P.S.  sspkt th xtra buzz & lossv
hearing in my right  is thr permanently but its not big enough 2b incapacitating. Im thankful there
wasn’t much mor damage as a single splinter could have knocked out my . Ive stopt telling the
story coz I doent think people believe it from a foreigner.
9/7/06. Tzn heetwaev notjust x st&rdz but x ni st&rd. 2hot2  rdoo nthn. m O
drnkn b (Švyturys (Baltijos)) bdn m  til  O H. Thn lhv n nth knal †throed.….O hoem. H
subdued.  kn sshuer ue  hvnt thsltst n10shnv rmaenn n rkumn 2liv h. M fuechr zwth
m famli wlt tolr8s mi. Wn th kumz yor  needz 2b hld fm lv lb holdnt. (12/8/06. How
about now? Who’s around to hold it now? Or do I have to wait till I’m on my last legs. You know that old
saying: ‘Actions speak louder than words’? Words are easy, actions tell the truth!) Ue wil tl mi (12/8/06.
Presumably if I don’t tell you, you won’t be there. Hope I don’t have a stroke that takes away my speech –
wn th@  hz rrvd - l taek yor werd 4t.….Ue kn studi sjn (O) r hdrgn
you’d be off the hook!)
(H) or 1&thuthr zmuch zue lk & ue noe 0 O H2O & ue kn gzamn th♂ rth♀ & stil noe 0 O ♂/♀.
…“Believing that each step of my life would mean contact with the horror of the New
and that each new person I met was a new and living fragment of the unknown to be
placed before me on the table for my daily horrified contemplation, I decided to abstain
from everything, to go nowhere, to reduce action to a minimum, to avoid as far as
possible meeting either men or events, to perfect abstinence and cultivate renunciation.
That’s how much living frightens and torments me.” Pessoa 197 [363]…..Tmz mor & mor
lk v lost ½ thn nm rt  but kmpaird 2 Hz trublz tz nmportnt….sokr fnl nTV (nMelbourne
(Šarka (Pica pica)) got dun x 10goelz x soe m swchn2 sokr.).
16/7/06.  woek juern thnt wthth aekv misn H. (22/8/06. Oh how I wish I could believe
you, but it was probably just a bellyache from the handfuls of SERBENTAI. You haven’t mentioned me
much in these letters except to record that you were posting them to me. You did mention the misery I
communicated during our infrequent phone calls (6 in almost 3 months) – it made you lose your cap, you
said – so it obviously registered, but not for long it seems. It is hard for me to be so disposable – I have
become a non-person, an object to be put aside till the time comes to dust me off and put me to use.) 
woz nkshz th@ owr brjz wrnt broekn. (lots of blood and tears under those teetering bridges). Praps
thdreem woz trgrd x thnolj ♀ woodb kspk10 n korl zv bnn n☼daez but m naebl2 2dae. 2dae
(9am) thrz nls sk & nkool breez, deel 4 . v st boeth m kspnsv Naot br& hv dvlpt
splits nth soels. Hoep thei lrst 4 th fnl munthvthtrip. Ths eevn  hv2 dsd nth nkst stepvthjerni.
Thrz sumkndv 10shn btween thz &  doent wont 2bkum nplaer nt howvr pasv (you are already a
player, passive or not). v lwaez foundt serprzn how eezli Vaidas nvtsmi 2b prtv th. F woz
wth H  woodnt wont n3rd prti 2 prtspaet nowr ntm8 lf. (do we have an intimate life? After 3 months
I’ve forgotten what its like – anyway you’ve finally twigged why the ‘10shn’ is happening.)  4 throed.
….

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 23/7/06 . Woz waek 2 h th 6am chmn. Lrst nt woz ← @ 1am. Rlier @ 5.30 pm 
hd bn pikt↑ nRotušes  x Brigita & Vaidas nthr nueli perchst 1994 modl (n●ls kondshn) mroen BMW
wch theid got 4 6000Lt. W thrue nhumdingr vn  @ z thru n v H2O prst storld
2n rspshn/rstront plaes oevrlookn thKauno Marios (thlaek 4md x thdamnvth Nemunas) 2 slbr8 Rutaz
(thprtnrv Gintas) 42nd brthdae. Twoz nfamli ffair prt← 1 kupl hoo rfrndzv Gintas, & mi. Met Rutaz 3 rd
dortr hoom  ddnt noe ♀ hd hooz O 22. Th♀♀ n♀r sdv thfamli rbilt lk kegzv lrd. W s@ O thtaebl
nplznt knvrsaeshn 4 O nhowr thn w wnt ow102 thMarios 2spnd theevnn nn hrd kntrld x nkaptn.
Thkumpni woz loe, plznt, npr10shz &  8 & drank thO. Tks z w  slept 4 nli nshort
lrst nt. Gintas wonts mi 2  n ttld Godel, Escher, Bach x HOdFoSuTgAlDaTsER. ♂ rlsoe
toldmi how ♂ wnt thrue n n♂z lf wn ♂ d k kssvli 4 nfue yz & thoe ♂ lwaez njoid loekhol ♂
fownd ftrnwl thprs ♂ paed 4 thnjoimnt woznt wrtht. Tmaed ♂m sleep wthowt dreemn & ffktd ♂z
mmri 4 wch uezd2b kspshnli good. Soe now ♂ drinks onli nlitl soe i & ♂z vvd dreemn wch ♂
njoiz & ♂z mmri 4 hv rternd. ♂ ksuezd ♂mslf 4 soundn preechi but  taek wot ♂ sez riusli z
srspkt w shair sum nuerljkl simlrteez. Twoz nbuetfl eevn (th ddnt rtern) & w wr owtn thlaek tl wl ftr
☼set wth n 4n  (10 chmz). ← nshor Rūta ( gaev ♀r 1vth oepl ‘lauktuves’ zn brthdae prznt)
nvtdus 2thr fl@ nn↑rz nth dpthsv stl Kaunas suberbia 4 & mor slbraeshnz. Th@s w 
woznt ← til 1am. Ystrdae rvoe  met↑ wth Raimundas @ 2 & wwnt n 4n br wch sold cheep b &
hd shaed wr w s@ torkn O thst8v rt & th tl  hd 2goe & meet ↑ wth thz.  woz prtklrli ntrstd
2dskuvr ♂ hd gzaktli thsaem posishnzz LfOrVaEnCkE nth uthr sdvth n goodoelMelbourne. W
shair thsaem psmizm & thoe wdmit tmaeb nrwairns vowr own mortlti (wchz w w tr 2 t z4m
owrslvz →2 rt prodkts nth hoepv gaenn mmortlti) wnoet w r x noe meenz ☼8d nowr prdkshnzv
ASTROF. Wgreed 2 meet↑gaen nmundae fm stil nKaunas. Erlier nthdaegaen  droptnon
Egidijus RUDINSKAS @ ♂z stuedion Zamenhofo g. ( Friday 4/6/04) & ♂ gaev mi 4 krsts
dsnd x ♂m 4 mjnri sitis shood  wont2 uezm 4 thpeesz  putowt.  lk thm vri mutch &f 
kntnue th (H wiln!) l srtnli fnd ues 4m (10/8/10. thee r th lust shnn @t dv Monday -
Friday.).  gaev ♂m m +rs shood ♂ wont2 snd mor. Ths mornn  hdn showr & wosht m ,
, & shrtsleevshrt & mredi 2 Kaunas. . . .  ystrdaez ppr (Respublika) oevr (4.20Lt); →d2 th
@ thuthr ndvthsiti & chkt thtaebl → Janušiškė (via Ukmergė); 8 kaldūnai (plmni) 4 lunch @ ncheep
eetri n th 4 4.50Lt;  H hoo sownded sumwot betr & torkt2 Ben (Collingwood ↓d West Coast);
←2 h 4 nnap (SIESTA) b4 goen → Eglez plaes 4t wth thfamli @ 5pm….@ thcheepeet  8
thkaldūnain nstreet tp wthn yung kid trd 2 st&oevr th ♀ bhnd th ntr 2 gv ♂m & thkid nfree
meel & trd2 bt mi 4 0.50Lt. Thn ♂z ♀ kaemn & ♀ lookt lk n yung street♀ mt nMelbourne
(thferl look). Ftr ♀ lft th♂ puldowt ♂z & td torkn lowdli 2♂z mum. Ys, vri1 n hzn …Juozas &
wf Julė krnt get ← tl chuezdi mornn & Eglė wonts mi 2b nKaunas thnkst 2nts soe ♂m & mi kn
k@ch↑ wthchuthr. ♀ sez ♀ kn getmi nddukshn @th METROPOLIS soet kosts 50Lt/nt nstedv 70Lt
f krnt get nithn betr. ♀ hz srtnli l&d n♀r oevr thlrst 2 yz sins ♀ kaem ← fromerka.
♀ lsnz owt nO thrmk heetn systm maednmerka &z oepnn↑ offsz orloevr (10/8/10. haz gon
ust nth reeeshn).  told yr ♀♀ ths plaes. Alvinaz 18yold dortr woz @ th nn 3week vzt
←thUSA. ♀z lrdi nostaljk 2goe →2 USA z♀ hz heepsv frndz thr thoe ♀z onli bn thr 1½ yz. Alvinaz
studiin fizkl thrpi &z vri hapi 2b wae ← . Rūta (Alvinaz dortr) sez ♀ feelz much saefr nUSA thn h.
♀ livz nn  wchz knveenint z♀ kn speek rus.  gaev ♀r 1vth oepl lauktuvės & got ♀r 2 proms 2
prznt m rgrdz → Alvina. Rūta nsstd n →n mi hoem → Rotušės . Tz 9.30pm & m hvn nb nth
 2 wnd↓ b4 goen 2 .… Nsted  →d2 SOBORAS & ← 1st. 4got 2 mnshn rlier th@ Eglez
dortr zernn ₤40/dae nngl& wrkn 6 daez/week. ♀ paez ₤20 4 & ruef & ₤20 4 /week. ♀ saevz
1000Lt/ week wchz nlotv $$$ n 4 n16yold kid. Ue kn majn thkndv ♀l x wn ♀ gets ← from
thholdaez. Yair,  fnsht↑ @th SKLIAUTAS kavine/br. Thz just chmd 11.
30/7/06. Ystrdi mornn Kristina kookt nomlet 4 th3vus & w s@ O torkn.  hd plntiov  2
bsrv how Augustė zbn d 2b sl , rued & 2lwaez dm& 2b ntrtaend & 2b thv @10shn. Bkoz wv
bkum nkulchr wch rkwrz2 taek↑ mor&mor  w owr kidz 2b lk owrslvz wthowt reelznt. Nth

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rvoe Saulius 2Ukmergė (Vilkmergė, Vilkomiercz) 2 klkt Egle, ♂z dortr ←npreevius marij, hooz
h← London wr ♀z studien rpreaeshn & zkumn hoem 2join thfamli 4n 2week trip x →
kroaeshia. L8r ŽVgIiRnBtLaIsS & ♀ Rūta rrvd. Saulius hdbn nkontkt wth Brigita & V x  2n4m
thmv ♂z rrvl & shornuf V&B rrvd mmed8li ftrwrdz. Trnzowt ystrdae woz Sauliusz 47th brthdae. L8r
nth evnn vrius uthr ppl rrvd, thr woz modr8 eetn & drnkn & thPIRTIS woz poot n2 ues & wsang hapi
brthdae. Ue koodnt wsh4 nmor knvvial vnt & 1sgaen  fownd thkumpniov Gintas prlrli njoibl. 
must +mt but m trdv soe zn &m lookn4wrd 2m komitmnts nVilnius. Maeb l rpre8
thweek x mslf nVienna b4 → Melbourne. O mdnt ttd drzln ( orlnt) & w soon
ftrwrdz. Wn  got↑ @ 9 ftr ngoodnts sleep Kristina hd lrdi wosht thdshz ←larst nt. (9/9/06. You
seem to be obsessed with the dishwashing capabilities of these ladies. Dishwashing isnt rocket science –
monkeys could conceivably be trained to do it, but as most women know, there’s never a monkey around
when you need one, so you might as well do it yourself)T d moestv thmornn2 but t hz t now
(11.55). Brigita zshoenoff thambr ♀ t @ thmarkt nPalanga 2 Rūta. Kristinaz reedn Da Vinčio
Kodas x Dan Brown. Eglėz reedn nkidz stori 2 Augustė, Vaidasz maekn thwingz 4n woodn nskt
th@ ♂z skulptn. Saulius & Gintas rheetn thPIRTI 4nuthr sshn.  woentb taekn +vntj vt z sspkt
tprojuesz kstrr waks nmi . Nth taebl zn x Mark Brandon Read ttld Chopper 10½ : The
Popcorn Gangster pub. Floradale Productions Pty Ltd and Sly Ink Pty Ltd Novmbr 2001 ©
Floradale Produktions and Sly Ink, 2001 ¶ ISBN 09579121-0-2. Tz bn rd x Gintas hooz nbig & ♂z
t zl8d 1v Chopperz s →2 ….
6/8/06. → Trakai x  4 2Lt ←Vilnius x 4 2.50Lt. tn v @thmrkt nTrakai 4
0.80Lt (ie .40c OZ). Austra sed ue goe df koz thrz sumtn ue doent wont 2h. D k nwn korld
MOLDAVIJOS KAGOR  lkt. Tzbn ↓ nVilnius ths evnn & m rt zsoekt ←thH2O
getnn thrue thkrak nth ☼vth . Thrzn ozzi ←Lorne nth saem pasj zmi. N♂  torkt2 nnbr nPilies g.
rkmndd  reed sum short storeez x Saulius Tomas Kondrotas soe  mt x nlt 4 th
phoem. 10.15pm &  4 .
13/8/06. €3.55 (@ Café Griensteidl (10/8/10.  Monday 14/8/06)) + €2.50 ( z
vptzr nFleishmarkt (10/8/10.  Monday 14/8/06)) + €3.20 (500ml v bnGRABEN) + €5.95
(250mlz v b& frd & vgg nTaborstrabe) + €6.80 (x2 sangrirz) = €28 + €47 = €75 (ie O A$128).
(16/8/10. Completion of Sundays from Litho Trip 2 (1st draft on CD ttld: ALL THAT WAS ALL THAT WILL BE))

15/4/07 (Journal ♪♫ Italy). Waetn nth Q rlv daezgo 2 → thrue thmetl (znprts) dtktrz
( 4 8.45am) 2get→ S. Pietro  got →2 nbref  wth r♂ hoo blevd nth gzistnsvth Freudian
“unconscious”.  told ♂m thwerd woz msledn, ngzamplv rWittgenstinian ‘grammatical’ prolbm, &
th@t maeks mor sns 2  O ◦◦zv waekfulns (& dremn). v ksprst m vuez nth to b4 @ lnth but +
rkot hnrspons2 thvuez ksprst x Eric Kandel (nobl prz winr nmolkuelr biolog vth b ) n♂z 
In Search of Memory hoo klaems th@ thfakt th@t kanb shoen th@ phizkl proessz taek plaes nth b
& nrvus sstm b4 thsubjkt zaebl2 ruel8 thm orz evn wairvm zvidns nsuportv ♂z flow Viennese (&
jue) Freudz konspt vth ‘unconscious’. Thkonfuezion kumz fromth nabiltiov ethr FreudrKandel 2
shaekof thlgasi vCartesian dualzmz nflosofk  & . Tznt knv th@ ni ksprshn nlangwj ( 4
9.15am) orv ●v vue, orvmoeshn rnithn ls kood taek plaes wthowt prior nruel8d chaenjz nth bode.
2blev uthrwz woodb 2klaem th@ langwj duznt havn bioljkl sors wch Erik Kandel woodbth 1 st 2
dn. Tz nkonv th@ rl dtktr (prvdd tz su ntle snstv) reaktd oenle rftr thl. Thbode zth
sorsv lngwj. WE ACT BEFORE WE KNOW. Owr ksprshnv moeshnz, vuez etc oenle taek plaes rftr
thvnt wn twood b 2l8 wrtnot th@ wrkaepblv dsdn 2 chaenj kors – fre wil!?…(ie. zt th@ gr8r lvlz
vkomplksfkaeshn rsubskwnt (oevrd) nishl (orerlier & simplr) rsponsz & w korl thproesz chois or fre
wil? (16/4/07. @10tv redrz wil ndrst& th@ 2  lngwj zr ks10shn vth bode tlzus zmuch Ot zw lern O
ltrchr wn w  tzr ks10shn vn nf krz))…(5.50pm) €3,00 (panini porchetta calda @ th☼dae
mrkt @ porta portense nTrastavere) + €3,00 (botlvbirra (Peroni) & botlv aqua minerale frizzante @
kervsd taeblv br nViale di trastavere) + €12,90 (supermercato: pomodori 0,51; arance 0,31;
cetrioli 0,43; etta di ariccia 3,67; pane olive 0,68; pane con noci sfarinando 0,94; pane di semola di
grano duro 1,66; chino 0,41; vino rosso da tavola 1,17; pere 0,48; salsiccette di siena 2,64) + €0,50

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(cartoliniov rvn ns.santa maria maggiore 2snd →mum) = €19 + €80 (4 kkmdaeshn) = €99 [A$169].
Walked to Trastavere area past the spectacular ruins of Nero’s Domus Aurea and one end of the Circus
Maximus where stables/storerooms(?) are exposed. For me it is a thrilling sight to see these ruins and I
tend to prattle on (John gets irritated I suspect). At the corner of Viale Aventino and Via Marmorata a
section of the city wall appeared in which was a great gate through which no doubt legions marched out &
tourists came in all those thousands of years ago. We crossed the Ponte Sublico into the Piazza di Porta
Portese where there is more wall and another gate. Before then we had also walked under the remains of
an aqueduct. The Piazza di Porta Portese and its surrounding streets host a Sunday market with at least
2ks of stalls & vendors – more Africans flogging handbags, watches & sunglasses. (Yesterday it rained a
little during the demo & the vendors miraculously appeared with umbrellas). It must be very hard for them
to earn a crust, since only very few stop & buy. After the market we ate our lunch (bread & salicette)
sitting on the side of a building & then took the plunge, buying a beer & mineral water at a nearby bar. It
was much cheaper, as the charge for sitting down wasn’t in operation. By slow byways & wanderings
through the little back streets (a visual banquet) we came to Santa Maria in Trastavere with its glorious
mosaics. Previously we had come across Chiesa di Sancta Cecilia in Trastavere, begun in the 9 th century
AD, where a wedding had just finished. It was amazing to see the clothes of the female guests – glamorous
haute couture. One dress alone looked as though it cost the equivalent of my airfare here! The church was
decorated with bouquets of white roses & freesias & the scent of incense was still in the air. It is a very
atmospheric place, with old frescoes. We also saw a baptism at S. Maria, so of the
hatched/matched/dispatched events of life we dropped in on 2. On the way back we saw a small church
doorway on the street & went in – it was Chiesa San Bernadino da Siena ai Monti with a Chinese
congregation & 2 Chinese priests celebrating Mass. The Chiesa is the official Chinese Christian church in
Rome. I feel very ignorant because I didn’t “study up” before I came, so the significance of practically
everything I see is lost on me (19/7/07. I’m rectifying matters with extensive use of the internet).
Yesterday we saw a fountain in the distance with a triton blowing a conch shell & couldn’t be bothered
going for a closer look – then I read in “Passeggiate Romane” that it is the famous Triton Fountain “a
masterpiece by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, who created it around 1642. The whimsical composition, which decorated the square in
front of the palace of the noble Barberini family, depicts a triton held up by four dolphins as he is blowing into a shell,
proclaiming the family’s glory to the world. Up until the 18th century a macabre ritual would take place in front of the
fountain: the corpses of the unknown would be shown there as a crier would call for them to be recognized.” We are the
Barbarian 2nd Coming. Tonight we went back to S. Pressede for a (free) organ recital & to re-view the
extraordinary mosaics. In the Chapel of St. Zeno there is a piece of the column against which Christ was
whipped (?). We saw lots of gypsies today as there is a big housing development (like our Housing
Commission flats) between the Via Portuense & Viale Trastavere, & also some down-on-their-luck types
similar to those you see in Errol St. Trastavere streets have more grafitti than we’ve seen before but are
extremely picturesque. John checked up on the Collingwood stats at the internet point. Saw the ancient
Roman houses again (see Friday 13/4) and discovered they are shops/offices connected with Trajan’s
Market.
22/4/07. €0,03 (2 nuthr (nth maen chiesa nMINORI)) + €2,40 (4 rnjz x3 + r ) +
€4,00 (birra (nostro azzuro 33cl) + limonata rftr klmn thscala ↑RAVELLO ← MINORI) + €1,00
((0,50 x2) 4 rpis) + €10 ((5,00 x2) 2→ villa cimbrone 4 thfaemus vue) + €5,00 ((2,50 x2) 4 slszv ptzr
x2 nAMALFI wrw →d ← ATRANI wnw koodnt gtn  @ 6pm bkoz twoz pakt) + €2 (biglietti 4 ) =
€24 + €80 (B&B) = €104 [A$177]. Today there was some interesting animal observation: the little lizards
(skinks) who frequent the steps, walls & vegetation of the terraces are very fast & have a vivid green
patch on their backs; the long black snakes, one of which crossed our path as we walked toward
Monastero di San Nicolo a Forcelle, are not poisonous though small green vipers are (according to a local
we talked to at the bus stop in Atrani on our way back to Maiori); an extremely affectionate gatto/a leapt
onto my lap while we were having a sit-down on our way to Ravello & left cat-hair all over my only black
skirt (one of 2 for the whole trip) which John patiently removed for me; more little working horses feeding
on the grass of a terrace & then being ridden on by a rather portly teenager up the stairs; dogs on the
loose which are quite friendly or at least non-aggressive & usually small. As for touring: we started out
with good intentions to walk to Ravello via Sambuco Grande & Lacco along the hill paths, but took a wrong
turn & came to a dead end at the entrance to a terrace. Retreated down the steps which we had so
painstakingly climbed & finding the right path, begain the upward trek again. After some time John began
to worry that I was getting dehydrated (the temperature was climbing & there were no fontanelle (water
spouts) along the way) & then the snake crossed out path. We decided it was a bad omen & then a farmer
carrying a bag of lettuces from his terrace veggie garden confirmed there was no water further up. So we
turned back again & headed towards Minori, finally arriving at Ravello via Torello, steep stairway the whole
way. At Ravello I was knackered. It was relatively quiet in the town & we were able to walk around
admiring the ceramic shops, opulent hotels & breath-taking views of the coast, particularly fron the
terrace of the Villa Cimbrone, without the jostle & noise we experienced in Amalfi when we walked there
from Atrani. The descent from Ravello to Atrani was very steep but swift (relatively – Im just as slow
downhill as uphill but at least I don’t suffer as much). Intended to catch the bus at Atrani where a lovely
lady we asked directions from sold us 2 tickets for the bus from her own cache so we didn’t have to waste
time finding a tabacchi. Howver it was chockers & the 4 American girls, the local who told us about the
snakes & an Italian girl with a huge suitcase who got on before us were literally jammed in like sardines so

113
that the door hardly shut behind them. So we gave in gracefully & walked the short distance to Amalfi to
get the next bus at its source in order to avoid a repeat experience. Had to wait 30 minutes so had a pizza
slice each from a pizzeria & then a comfortable ride to Maiori where those bloody 317 steps awaited us.
Saw a hugely stylish old couple promenading on the Amalfi beachfront & a swarthy Calabrian type dressed
entirely in white in the main street. The town was full of people – quiet Sundays don’t exist on the Amalfi
coast. We arrived in Maiori round 7.20pm & everone was on the beachfront piazza area promenading.
i fa  hv vztd Ravello: “In the spring of 1880 Richard Wagner arrived in Ravello,
accompanied by his stage designer, the painter Joukovsky. At that time, the great
German musician was working on the composition of Parsifal and it is obvious just how
important a role the real enchantment of the Villa Rufolo played in the creation of the
magic garden of Klingsor. Evidence of this is Wagner’s signed declaration written in the
Villa’s visitor’s book on the 26th of May, 1880: “The enchanted garden of Klingsor has
been found”. Moreover, even the choreographic inventions of Peer Gynt, by the
Norwegian composer Edvard Greig, who spent some time at the Hotel Toro, owe much
to the woods, gardens and mysterious caves of Ravello. The musical calling of this place
has been confirmed by the presence of Arturo Toscanini, Bruno Walter, Leonard
Bernstein and Mstilav Rostropovich. Ravello has also had occasion to host artists
such as the brilliant Spanish artist and ceramicist Miro, the Dutch artist Maurits
Cornelis Escher and, at the beginning of the 19th century, the Englishman Turner,
engraver and watercolourist and Ruskin, writer. Beginning with Boccaccio in the 13th
century, the literary theme is the one which most often recurs in drawing up an “honour
roll” of Ravello’s illustrious guests. Ravellian scenes are sketched out in a short story by
Forster, the famous author of Room with a View. Ravello also had the good fortune to
repeatedly play host to other English writers, including Virginia Woolf, author of To the
Lighthouse. In Ravello David Herbert Lawrence wrote numerous chapters of Lady
Chatterley’s Lover and, Andre Gide set part of his novel The Immoralist. Among the
literary men who have frequented Ravello, we mustnt forget to mention Paul Valery
and Graham Greene, Tennessee Williams, Rafael Alberti and Gore Vidal. Among
the statesmen, Einaudi, Kennedy, Mitterand and De Gasperi.” W →d Viale di Wagner &
prst th E.M.Forster staedn wn ♂ woz n The Story of a Panic n1928 & wr Andre Gide woz n
The Immoralist n1902. W sor Gore Vidalz (hooz mmwrz  red just b4 th p)  (korld La Rondinaia
(‘Swallows Nest’) (koztz nth klf)) & w paed €10 2  thvue ← thterrazzo dell’Infinito nth grdnzv villa
cimbrone Vidal dskrbz: “affacciandosi da questo balcone pare vengano le vertigini,
quando pero l’occhio h preso contatto allora non ei si vorrebe piu allontranare dall
sconfinata contemplazione…” Mor rs le Hilary Clinton tookn thsaem (wth Gore st&n bsd ♀r)
vrtjnus panrrmr. & now 4 thprsv rmodst €5  hvjoind thlistv lus us .
29/4/07. €1,00 (string 2hold Hz ☼ t nth 4shor ← aezn vndor) + €25,80 ((12,90 x2)
ts → SULMONA 4 1/5/07 (martedi 15,37)) + €4,50 (2 slszvptzr, fntr, b(Becks 33cl)) + €5,60
(limoncello & lrte npiazza bellini) + €3,00 (gelati nvia toledo) + €1,80 (rustica con parmigiana) +
€3,00 (birra (Heineken 66cl) t ← br nmergellina (CHIAIA)) = €45 [A$76]. Walked along the
waterfront this morning – there is limited beach here, very littered & well used & the one Egle recognized
when she was here as the setting for a photo of John & Rasa taken in 1948/49. Though the sand is not so
dark as the Amalfi coast (because of its volcanic origin) its still not the golden stretches we are used to.
There were lots of people sunning themselves on the sand & on the extensive stretch of large rocks which
make up the major part of the shoreline. Fishermen on the beach were offering the catch of the night(?) –
octopus, barracuda, cuttle fish, parrot fish, flounder & lots of other kinds unknown to John – displayed in
large shallow dishes covered in salt water. Two kinds of prawns, salmon, tuna & a variety of shellfish were
also available from the stalls along the beachfront. We discovered the cat population of Napoli live in the
stone filled stretches – counted 27 in a short distance & no doubt there were lots more in hiding. Since the
dogs seem to rule the town its only fair that the cats rule the foreshore. We strolled to Castel della’Uovo &
checked out the marina beneath its walls & then ambled slowly to Napoli Centrale stazione to buy tickets
to Sulmona, a process made easier by us writing down what we wanted & showing it to the ticket-seller.
Peter Murphy’s little booklet “Fast Talk: Italian” from Lonely Planet is proving very useful, though its
organized in such a way that I usually find the word I need after the event because its in the shopping
section for example not the section about travel. Nevertheless thanks Peter – I certainly needed it to work
out what to say over the phone tomorrow when we attempt to book a room for Tuesday night in Sulmona.
From Napoli Centrale we ambled to Piazza Bellini via streets we’ve travelled before (so we could buy our
favourite pizza from a street stall) where we sat at a table in a Palestinian ristorante (there was a large
painting of a Palestinian youth in traditional dress holding a slingshot on the outside wall & one of the

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owners was smoking a hookah) in the warm sun surrounded by leafy vegetation overlooked by a
monument to Bellini. There aren’t many green spaces in Napoli, unlike Rome (there is a public park, the
Villa Communale, but it runs along the beachfront), so it was very relaxing & pleasant. Wandered into the
Chiaia suburb along Via Chiaia, Via Filangieri & Via Crispi. The area is one of the ritzier parts of town with
expensive clothing, jewellery & shoe shops & in one we saw Crocs!! So we are on the cutting edge of
fashion & not the hicks the Napoletani think we are – in a few months all the rich trend-setters will be
wearing them (pity we wont be around to see it). Emerged at Mergellina station & then caught the bus
back to 56. Some observations: Sunday markets are operating along the beachfront & round Napoli
Centrale. There was a huge collection of prints organized by subject including letters, receipts, public
notices etc. displayed in over a hundred big folders in the beachfront area along with the usual
jewellery,knick knacks & dubious antiques. Handbags, sunglasses & leather belts dominated round the
station, all sold by Africans. We have only seen 2 African beggars. The others are presentable, often even
well dressed, & usually don’t hassle the customers, unlike the gypsies who can be persistent. There were
neither gypsies nor Africans in Chiaia. The English, Spanish & German consulates are there (no carabinieri
noticeable) while the US embassy is close to the waterfront & is guarded by 3 armoured vehicles with
machine guns poking out the top & closed roads on all sides. The fountains of Napoli are no match for
those in Rome in style, material or quantity of water & there are very few nasoni which means buying a
drink or lugging bottled water around. The buildings here are heavy looking – the prevailing architecture is
the 5-6 storey square block in stone, usually decorated with stone window & door surrounds & its hard to
tell the difference between religious, government & commercial institutions. The minor churches are often
incorporated into surrounding buildings. The dominant tourist group here is Italian. We have seen small
groups of Japanese, but Americans in groups seem non-existent though there are individual travellers like
the young man from Chicago in front of us in the ticket queue at the station. John found a great place to
have a pee – in the middle of a dense circular stand of palms near the forehore where he was virtually
invisible. Peeing in Italy is not as difficult as suggested in travel books – there are toilets in the metro, the
occasional WC, usually underground, in some piazzas, in public buildings like the Museum & Castel
dell’Uovo & in bars & restaurants. You nearly always have to pay but so far we havent had any worries.
The only problem is toilet paper (none usually) but we carry our own. John is impressed by the cheeriness
& good humour of the checkout chicks & the girls who man the street food stalls. I reckon they are flirting
with him, but he will have none of it. He hasn’t noticed the friendliness of some of the old ladies we’ve
come across, cos they don’t flirt but are inclined to be a bit maternal. It is hard to tell when buildings are
occupied. We have twice sat on steps in front of dilapidated doors to have our pizza slices & been
surprised by someone manouevring past us to open them & disappear inside. Today the opened door
revealed a set of stairs so steep it looked like the ascent of Everest. There are lots of palazzos behind the
shop fronts of the main streets converted into dwellings or for educational or commercial use with a
courtyard in front closed off from the street by impressive large doors. In Rome they almost always
contained a fountain facing the street. In Napoli it is usual just to see an open space often filled with
motorscooters or groups of people sitting around on chairs, though often the street doors are closed so
there’s bound to be more luxurious ones hidden from view especially on the ritzier streets like Via Toledo
& Corso Umberto I. The Napolitani are just as fashionable as the Romani – the men wear great colour
combinations like melon pants with blue shirts or white pants with black Tshirts & the ladies favour a bit of
sparkle on jeans, tops or dresses. Ive noticed a couple of Donatella Versace lookalikes too. The main
difference between Rome & Naples though is that Rome is swarming with tourists while in Naples the
locals still dominate.
6/5/07. €2,00 (fiori zucca (b@rd zueni flowr wth cheez) x2 ← ystrdae) + €1,30 (psvptzr
← ystrdae) + €8,27 (provolone piquante, prosciutto all brace, birra (66cl), succo frutta, pane) + €1,00
(2 tolini wth Alessandra (B&B ownr) onm) + €1,95 (drns, pomodori) + €2,10 (shotv limoncello) &
lrte ← br nFRATTURA (nMelbourne twoodhv kost $8)) + €3,10 (n z ← thpizzashop ↓stairz: fiori
zucca x2 @ 1,00 eech; panserotti @ 0,40; polpa di granchio @ 0,70) = €20 [A$34]. Did our usual
shopping for tea (the fruit & veg man threw in some basile for nothing), had a look in the little local museo
where a set of traditional costumes, male & female, are kept (no entrance fee) & where a repast for a
couple celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary was being set up, & then set off to walk to Frattura
(Vecchio & Nuove – Vecchio was destroyed by an earthquake about 1910, Mussolini approved the building
of Nuove in the 1930s) about 5ks away – we can see Nuove from our window. It was a beautiful walk up to
high alpine meadows & pine trees & bare rock faces. Frattura Vecchio is basically deserted but had been a
very pretty village with a central flat area. Some fields are still being cultivated in the village but no-one
lives there. It felt like a miniature Pompeii in that the ruins spoke eloquently of lives lived & lost in a
cataclysm. It had been built on an unstable site of a long-ago avalanche which had blocked the valley
below & formed the lake. The new Frattura is on 3 or 4 levels with solid double storey apartments. We
dropped into the trattoria/bar for limoncello & capuccino (café laté really, the nicest I’ve had since the
convent in Rome & priced at €0,80!) after walking about 2ks beyond the village along marked tracks
intending to descend to Scanno that way, but decided against it as the condition of the track was unknown
& the weather had become threatening (beautiful sunshine when we started out). Picked a bunch of wild
flowers – cream orchids, white daisies, cream & purple violas – for Alessandra who has been so helpful in
organizing accomodation in & travel to Castrovalva (its not a normal stop for the bus but she knows the
driver & will tell him to drop us off at the turn-off). On the walk between the 2 Fratturas we chatted (she in

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rapid Italian, us in English) to a very spry old lady all in black (85 anni) & spotted another one walking up
the very steep road from the cemetery on her way to Frattura Nuove – it reminded me of a scene from
some neo-realist Italian film, as the surroundings were wild & tumbled with big blocks of stone strewn all
around & the walled square of the cemetery filled with pine trees. Nothing else in the landscape was
moving (except us), & she disappeared completely without us seeing where she’d gone when we looked
away for just an instant. John muttered something about witches. Frattura Nuove is built so that each level
is accessible by car (unlike Scanno where most of the old town can only be reached by steps) so it seems
that most Fratturini go to Scanno for shopping, excursions etc. as the town seemed very quiet indeed
(though we did arrive close to the usual 2- 4 ‘siesta’). The people are very courteous here, always ready
with a “Buongiorno” or “Buona Sera”. They are used to tourists coming & going, but less used to them
shopping in the local shops as we do. As a result we are something of a novelty I think – one fellow asked
us the other day if we were Spanish possibly because John had his red “Back to Bondi” t-shirt on or
perhaps because by local standards we are quite under-dressed. Most people are wearing coats or jackets
even though its warm when the sun is out (7/8/07. My friend Anna Ferguson who’s Italian reckons its due
to local superstition – you dress according to the date rather than the weather or you risk incurring bad
luck). We haven’t seen much wildlife in our walks out of town – birds are few & far between & we’ve seen
no sign of deer, though the road signs carry warnings to look out for them. Bought cards of ladies in
traditional dress because one of them is Alessandra – will post them to John’s mum & Joe’s Katie tomorrow
before we go to Castrovalva. My umbrella has to be replaced as it fell apart today. My feet are holding out
(luckily – harder to replace!).
13/5/07. W kn obzrv chuthr & owrslvz wth th  vth O konss10 vth shaird meennz &
greets wch konstituet lngwj butz prtsovt w knhv noe noljovt & thO krnt obzrv tslf. Tz mposbl 2noe
(twood vl8 wotw meen x “2noe”) wthr tz thruelz vlngwj 1s nishl greets nmeennz hvbn maed (ie
thlimts 2th waez werdz knb maed 2fit 2gthr; th ‘fizks’ vwerdz) wch govrn thfuechr (drkshn) rth ↑rrkikl
orgnzaeshnv (plbz & ruelrz; dolts & ksprts; sinrz/ s; /rch; nonntiti/slbrti) soesti orsum10 ls.
Th@ sum hv gr8r powrz zobvius & tmaeb thruem th@ thfuechr ksprsz tslf &  kn konvov rsp
roel 4 s, mrstrz, tchrz, & gooruez but  hv nvr met sum1 wth mirklus powrz &mnot shor eevn wot
 shoodb lookn4. But thsloe rkuemlaeshn vmeennz hz maedt pos 4us 2, projus mdsnz,  &
thNUCULR 
.  look4wd2 ferthr dvlopts.…Had a very quiet day today as a result of both heat &
the condition of our extremities. Strolled to the deli/self-service for supplies for tea then set off to walk
along the higher road on the hillside out of town . Had a lie-down in the dappled shade in an olive grove
where some wild kind of mint was growing & then walked back into town – our feet/ankles protesting all
the way. Back inside the walls John had a porchetta panini & we sat in the Bar Giardini again in the shade
of a pine for drinks. Went looking for the internet point I had seen yesterday when we arrived, sussed out
the way to the station for tomorrow’s trip to Assisi, found the IP & sent emails, & then came back to
Fratello Sole (Via Monterione 1, 174 265 1902 fratellosole.spello@tiscali.it www.banbumbria.it ) where
Robespierre had left a bottle of his homemade red on the table outside our door with a note: ‘Alla salute
Giovanni”. He had spoilt us at breakfast with extra titbits: pasqua bread made with eggs & cheese with
salami on it, then bruschetta with a very smooth delicious local olive oil & salt & formaggio chunks. He is
extremely sociable & it’s a pity we don’t know enough Italian to properly engage with him. Allora. We had
a siesta 3.15–5pm, ate tea & then strolled out of town again along the lower road on the side of the hill
through olive groves dotted with poppies. The views across the wide valley are impressive – John spotted
Spoleto’s Rocca Albornoziana in the distance. I think he is feeling very frustrated that he can’t go walking
on all the rocky paths & white narrow roads he sees snaking off into the distance over hills & through pine
forests – to paraphrase Mae West: “So many tracks, so little time.” When we were in the IP a man & 3 kids
came in, obviously residents, who were speaking Arabic. The IP owner was of either Indian or Sri Lankan
origin. There was an African girl in the Bar Giardini. I saw a woman in Muslim dress yesterday & one in
Sulmona. However the hill towns of Abruzzo & Umbria are not multicultural like Roma & Napoli. Our shoes
continue to stop conversations. An English couple we met on the station yesterday commented that
Australians amaze them because they travel everywhere without knowing the language – the man said he
learns the language before each trip they do. €4,50 ((← ystrdae) gelato & birra (media alla spina) nth
bar giardini rfta ☼↓) + €9,85 (← cantico 4 2nts t) + €2,70 () + €2,50 (panini con porchetta) +
€7,00 (gelato + birra alla spina ( ddnt ? w twoz lmoest x2 thprs  paed ystrdae)) = €26 [A$46].
20/5/07. €195,00 (65 x 3 B&B (noe ) @ alma domus) + €4,00 ( lrte x2 nth br oevr
thfonte gaia nthil campo († throed ← us zth palazzo comune (townhorl) hzr lrj roezt wthth nskrpshn
I.H.S wch ndk8s th@ thsz 1vth s san bernadino preecht @) + €5,70 (lrj birra & H2O frizzante stil @
saem br) + €9,00 (biglietti x2 museo civico) + €0,60 (tolini x2) nth museo civico (simone martini hz
frskoed i worlz)) + €3,60 ((1,30 x2) s@ z) + €1,00 ( z got dun x thz)) + €2,00 (skrm
nvia di citta) + €11,60 (supermercato t stuf) = €233 [A$396]. Tonight & tomorrow night we are living in
rich Sienese style – in a residence behind one of the impressive wooden doors which abound in the old
town. Once you open one of those doors you enter into an apartment complex. The one we are in has a

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marble foyer with a sweeping curved staircase leading to one residence. At one side a passage with a
frescoed ceiling (plants, little animals) leads to a small lift which takes you to the top floor (about the 5th
storey).There is another door here to the residence we are in – a daintily frescoed vestibule, a side
passage leading to a substantial well-equipped kitchen, a main passage leading into a spacious, elegant
drawing room with a beautifully patterned marble floor, off which there are three bedrooms. Ours is a
corner one, one window overlooking one end of Piazza Gramsci, the other overlooking the other end,
directly opposite the Jolly Excelsior Hotel & one of the streets that ends at the Medici Fortezza. The
bedroom has a tiled, patterned floor, double bed, some elegant wooden tables & an ensuite. Talk about
putting on the ritz! It is €70,00 per night without breakfast but the kitchen is available for use & has a
fridg. More art today – the Museo Civico has wonderful frescoed rooms (a chapel with dancing angels on
the roof was just gorgeous) with works by Simone Martini, & a breathtaking view from its upstairs terrace.
Found a nice park near the ex-convent of San Agostino – the Orti di Tolomei – where people were picnicing
or laying in the long soft grass reading or snoozing. Its been hard to find public green spaces in most of
the towns we’ve been in. At the balcony bar on the Campo we watched a street performer do his stuff on
passers-by eg. Blowing a whistle to stop them walking on the Campo, dropping his beret on their heads
etc. – very amusing. The Campo is always full of people – walking, sitting, laying down, looking at the
Fonte Gaia, looking at each other, walking the dog, walking the baby, walking granny, doing handstands (I
saw a guy the first day we came demonstrating to his girlfriend), watching the parade of vintage sports
cars (yesterday) or motorbikes (today). It is the pulsing heart of the old town, though most are tourists of
course. There are busloads disgorged every day, led by guides holding markers like a sunflower or a flag &
they move through town from one important point to the next like flocks of sheep. They seem to be even
more ignorant than we are, judging by the comments we’ve overheard. Others are obviously art lovers
whose guides give lectures on the trot. We heard a very impressive one today - a woman fluent in Italian
& French whose explanation of Simone Martini’s work in the Museo Civico was passionate & dramatic – I
was impressed & I couldn’t even understand what she was saying. The fountains here are many & varied
& some had public uses like the Fonte Branda & the Fonte Nuova d’Ovile (26/8/07. Found this today while
Googling: “Via Vallerozzi, the heart of the area of town controlled by the Contrada della Lupa, is the street that leads into
the densely populated Ovile quarter, which begins at the 13th century Porta Ovile and the Oratorio di San Rocco, the oratory
of the Contrada della Lupa. Originally this was an area inhabited mainly by shepherds and their flocks. Down Via Vallerozzi to
the left is the Fonte Nuova d’Ovile fountain where women would come to wash their linen. One of the finest fountains in
Siena, the Fonte Nuova d’Ovile was designed by Camaino di Crescentino and Sozzo di Rustichino, and was built between
1296 and 1303 in the gothic style, with two large acute arches clearly inspired by the architecture of Cistertian monasteries.
Intended to supply this area of town with running water, both for agricultural purposes and for the many craftsmen who had
their workshops here, the Fonte Nuova d’Ovile is one of the twelve fountains and 350 cisterns in Siena, all of which were fed
by a 25 kilometre long underground aqueduct known as Bottini, which carried water from a spring in the surrounding
countryside.”) where the women of the area used to do their washing. The Fonte Branda is very old, being
mentioned as early as the 11th century. Many of the contrade have a fountain marking the territory – we
saw ones today featuring a tortoise & a panther (Tartuca, Pantera). John has been most taken with some
frescoes (&nth chrchv san agostino th vth†fkshn x perugino maed thuthr lrj z twoz mung lookl
KITCH bairli wrth rglans. Tmaedmi rflkt nth naechrv rts mrit & how dfkult & praps mpos tz2 dfn
(nalz, ☼8) by Sodoma which show San Bernadino preaching in the Campo because it clearly shows
men & women separated by a barrier, & the women veiled like Muslims. Speaking of which we noted that
according to www.theage.com.au David Hicks is back in Australia & on his way to jail in Adelaide.
Collingwood lost to the Bulldogs. When we had a bite to eat in a cheap eatery in the university district the
TV was showing a race at Phillip Island – it was pissing down there.
27/5/07. The Uffizi contains so many works of great art that it took us about 4 hours just to
do a reasonably slow walk-through. You could spend that much time in some of the rooms. (15/8/07. From
Googling : “This is one of the most famous museums of paintings and sculpture in the world. Its collection
of Primitive and Renaissance paintings comprises several universally acclaimed masterpieces of all time,
including works by Giotto, Simone Martini, Piero della Francesca, Fra Angelico, Filippo Lippi, Botticelli,
Mantegna, Correggio, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Michelangelo and Caravaggio. German, Dutch and
Flemish masters are also well represented with important works by Dürer, Rembrandt and Rubens.¶ The
Uffizi Gallery occupies the top floor of the large building erected by Giorgio Vasari between 1560 and 1580
to house the administrative offices of the Tuscan State. The Gallery was created by Grand-duke Francesco
I and subsequently enriched by various members of the Medici family, who were great collectors of
paintings, sculpture and works of art. The collection was rearranged and enlarged by the Lorraine Grand-
dukes, who succeeded the Medici, and finally by the Italian State.”) The corridor ceiling is rich with
grotesqueries which alone could take hours (& much neck stretching) to take in properly. My favourites
were the Durer collection & the Botticellis. The medieval panels were also spectacular but really they are
best seen in context ie. in a church setting. Did our supermarket shopping afterwards (in the one we are
using there is someone stationed in front of a TV checking security all the time) & after a brief rest went to
visit Santa Croce church but it was closing. Walked out to the ring road (ex-wall) & saw the “normal”
Florence (where no doubt prices are moderate & there are places which don’t charge triple because you
sit down). Yesterday we walked past a place advertising itself as a Mediterranean Kitchen with Tandoori
where the Pakistani owner accosted us with an offer of a beer for €5,00 & then knocked it down to €2,50
when we motioned a negative. Having just come from the Forte di Belvedere on a warm afternoon we

117
caved in. The owner poured 2 beers so I had a couple of mouthfuls before passing mine to John. The place
seemed to have a Pakistani-only clientele & one of the waiters joined us at an outside table for a chat – he
was Pakistani & relatively newly arrived, & surprised that when he reported at the police station the Italian
policeman couldn’t speak English – he said all professional people in Pakistan speak English. He is having
to learn Italian now. His family are all in Pakistan. We are shifting accomodation on Tuesday morning
because Hotel Esperanza has a group booking which will fill the place up. Our ever helpful manager
speedily arranged a new place at the same price (€80,00/night) including bagno & prima colazione at
Hotel Patrizia, Via Montebello 7, tel. 055 282 314 not far away. Tomorrow is our first “free” day as nothing
is pre-booked, so we can go where fancy takes us. Florence has its share of healthy looking gypsies some
of whom can give you a sarcastic “thank you & good luck” when you don’t cough up. They all look well-fed
& they are never drunk in the way you see Aborigines drinking in public places in Australia, despite the
cheapness of alcohol here (€0,80 for a litre of wine, €1,10 for a birra Moretti in the supermarket). The
African population is also represented & they are always sober & neatly dressed & never aggressive as
some of the non-African vendors can be. John’s ankle is coming good, though he will continue to take
Naprosyn as a safeguard for a few more days. €2,70 ( ← ystrdae) + €1,50 (kaek (4 H) x th arno rvr) +
€1,00 ( 4 m@ch rport;  ) + €0,35 (tolini) + €5,20 (fe l@e (st&n ↑) x2) &
psvptzr) + €9,02 (supermercato 4 t stuf) + €5,00 (skremz x2) = €25 [A$43].
3/6/07. John woke up in the middle of the night convinced we were going to be fleeced for
€351,00 because when we checked in at 2pm on Friday the girl asked for cash & said there was no receipt.
We didn’t think too much of it as its happened twice before, in Napoli & Sulmona. We assumed there was
some tax evasion going on. John thought that Venexia had his credit card details & thus the possiblility of
a credit card deduction for the same €351,00. But he used the credit card to pay www.trav.com for the
first night’s accomodation & booking fee, so I don’t think there’s any danger as the details are with the
agency not with Venexia. However when we arrived back tonight after our walkabout there was a
distressed American girl waiting on the landing who said she & a friend were told to check in at 2pm & had
been waiting ever since (we got back about 5.15) & when they rang the number they had been given to
find out what was happening the person answering said they didn’t understand & hung up. Someone from
downstairs had let them into the building because the street door was open when we came in. The girl
said a young man was also checking in at the same time but he was told to come back at 7pm. The girls
are upset because their baggage is locked in the dorm & they cant get to it. It all seems a
misunderstanding about check-in time, because today is Sunday & things tend to operate differently then
(no traghetti service for a start & no supermercato either). We started the day with a woman from Alaska
who’s staying in the dorm, having coffee at a reasonable price not far from here & when we parted
company (she was going to Murano) went into the Dursoduro area, also pleasantly quiet, to find Palazzo
Zenobia where Danius Kesminas will be leading his group Histrionics at the afterparty for Callum Morton’s
opening show at the Biennale (the session is called “Shock & Oar”) on Wednesday. One of the organizers
gave us free passes to Callum’s session & to the exhibitions in the Giardini Biennale on Thursday. Splurged
today on 2 meals – one sit-down meal at the same place we had coffee earlier, of mixed fish & a braised
lamb-shank, both delicious, & the other from a take-away shop – more mixed fish for John & pasta for me.
We’ll have to go out after dark for a glass of wine because the supermarket is shut. Inquired at the
internet point about the cost of ringing Australia - €0,40/minute!! It was €0,10 in Firenze. The computer
nerds in Venice must be rolling in it. The gondole were out in force today backing up along the canals. In
one a party of Japanese were entertained by an accordionist & an elderly gent who sang a quite haunting
song in a fine tenor voice which echoed along the canal even when the gondola was out of sight. Sat in 2
bars on our travels to rest our legs & use the toilet, where John had his new favourite drink – spritz bitter
(soda water with a dash of campari, a slice of lemon & an olive) & I polished off the complementary potato
chips. The buildings here continue to charm – they often have plaster plaques with eagles eating fish or
subduing lambs, or grotesque faces, or a small lion might sit on a balustrade. Walked past a bookshop
with innumerable books of all shapes, languages, subjects arranged artfully in old gondole, & a cat was
deeply asleep on a pile of them. Lots of people here have dogs – Ive noticed some really pitifully small
ones like chihuahuas being led around by snazzily dressed couples with the guy holding the leash (no
doubt in case the mutt makes a sudden dash for freedom & muscles are needed for restraint. I think a
hunky young man leading a midget dog on a leash is really visually ridiculous, especially when he’s an
Italian.). €2,00 (jlrtoe x2 ← ystrdae) + €3,60 ((1,80 x2) a tavola) + €1,00 (krtolini) + €11,80 (dlshz
snak & bevande (spritzbitr (ie wth CAMPARI))) + €5,00 (kwrmnrale (frzant) & sprtzbitr nth dorsoduro 
nth wortrf t faesn canale della guidecca) + €1,50 (sprtzbtr nbr ncampo san pantaleon (nedd → ))

+ €0,02 (→ soe H kood taek thtolini wthowt feln glti (goe str8 → INFERNO ( ), doonot prs
GO)) + €9,00 (taekwae t) = €34 [A$58].
10/6/07 (Journal ♪♫ Austria). A sunny day, mountains all round & a great walk! Started
from Seefeld & walked to Wildmoos with its tiny lake & had a comfort stop (ankle cool-down, hip rest) at
the restaurant there which greets you with a free glass of schnapps which we followed up with a
beer/mineral water. Then on to Moserer See (Mosern Lake) (before that we diverged off track & had a lie-

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down in soft grass under conifers; walked past the Golfplatz – the famous Alpine golf course) where
summer holidays on the water were in full swing – swimming, sunbathing, walking, sleeping etc . The
water was clear, with fish & ducks, an island & waterlilies, all surrounded by beautiful mixed conifer &
deciduous (birch, maple) forest. Idyllic. There was another restaurant there where John asked for a meal
we could share – we got a big leg of gamey duck & a dumpling with chunks of spek in it each, with
cranberry sauce & a side dish of cooked grated beetroot. It was delicious & eaten on a broad verandah
overlooking the lake where we followed up with a leisurely beer. After that it was an easy walk back to
Seefeld in time to catch the supermarket before it shut at 6pm. We’ve decided to stay on for a couple
more days to do more such walks as they are not too taxing & wind through lovely forest & alpine meadow
where spring flowers grow in profusion. Helped a toad across a road before a car got him & John saw a
woodpecker & some large black crows. We seemed to be the only non-Germans, non-Austrians doing the
round. John has taken to greeting on-comers with a broad “g’day” – he’d be more successful with
“Buongiorno” I reckon. It’s taken me all this time to stop saying “si” & “grazie” & I’m graduating to “non
sprechen sie Deutch” when people talk to me (usually restaurant/bar staff). I can’t read any of the notices
or the menus, so I’m really flying blind now. €5,00 (b, mnrl H2O & fre snaps @ Wildmossalm
(hoetl)) + €22,75 (maen  (nkluedn nkslnt Weissbier) @ rstr oevrn Möserer See) + €9,53
(sueprmrkt stuf 4 t) = €37 [A$63].
17/6/07. Lengthy conversation at breakfast time with a young couple from Lower Austria – he
was critical of Italians for their lack of a work ethic (apparently they take off at holiday time regardless of
work commitments). Changed rooms as ours was pre-booked for today, so now we have another spotless
& comfortable room with a handbasin, and a shower & WC outside on the landing for €44,00 per night.
Walked around the lake past Furberg (the path was still blocked but we ignored it this time – it was
perfectly OK) until the track ended, past the 2 shrines on rocks near the lake edge, & back again to a
lovely gasthaus with an outdoor area right on the lake where we had a drink before a long, steep climb to
a church (the Falkenstein) at the site where St Wolfgang spent time as a hermit in a cave (the church is
built on the rock face, incorporating the cave) & where a series of chapels commemorate incidents from
his life: at one spot he caused a spring to flow (we had a drink there & John washed his face), at another
the devil tried to crush him between rocks, but he forced them apart, & from another he threw a hammer
down from a great height & promised to build a church where it landed (which he presumably did but we
didn’t go down to see it as time was against us). The village of St. Wolfgang has been a place of
pilgrimage for the past 1000 years & the route from the church there up to the Falkenstein is Europe’s
oldest pilgrim route. Chatted to a couple from Salzburg at the site of the last chapel, then walked a loop
around the top of the hill (beautiful, fairy-tale-like forest path thick with tree roots & dappled shade, with
the lake shining below) before retracing our path back to St.Gilgen. John had 2 swims & I had a brief
immersion (the water is nowhere near the promised 20°). The lake edge was full of people picknicking,
sunbathing, & enjoying the lovely summer day – mostly young families. Tried a new café/restaurant for
dinner & though it was nice it was extremely expensive. We’ll have to restrain ourselves a bit – Vienna is
coming up. €5,20 (b& mnrl H2O x th Wolfgang (naemd rfta th not thMozart)  (See) @
FURBERG) + €3,80 (skremz x2) + €32,50 (evnn  n Mozart Platz (proi ks z w wwoz
robd!!)) = €42 [A$71].
24/6/07. Walked around in a relaxed & mostly aimless way on a warm, quiet Sunday
morning. Two landmarks visited were the Kirche Maria am Gestade with its lacey Gothic spire & clean
sparkling roof & the Communist memorial to the fallen of WWII with its towering soldier wearing a golden
helmet, carrying a golden flagpole with a furled flag in one hand & a golden shield in the other – both
monuments to ideologies which were once powerful & are now in decline. At the Kirche we stumbled into
mass when the old priest was delivering his sermon so we sat down out of politeness & he went on & on &
on to the point where many of the small, mainly aging congregation began to fidget. He didn’t take the
hint. Three male singers performed some antiphons beautifully (one of their kids was there, a little boy of
about 4 who put his fingers in his ears while they sang), & one of them played 2 hymns on the organ,
badly. Communion was held & then it was over. I havent been to mass since John & I were married
(02/01/1965) so I found it interesting but not moving. The church itself has beautiful paintings & altars
from the late 1400s & was in existence in some form before 907AD when Attila the Hun burnt it down. The
date 1212 was visible on the nave. The Communist monument was typically gigantic but understated I
thought, & a fountain surrounded by rocks in front of it softened it a bit. We followed up with the
Belvedere Garten, a large (small by Viennese standards) formal garden surrounding the Schloss Belvedere
with lake, water features & lots of female sphinx statues. I’d like a dollar for every statue in Vienna old
town – there must be thousands. They stand on top of buildings, sit in squares, hold up door frames,
inhabit niches & decorate walls. Had a beer in the Stadt Park & then retired to our room at Hotel Post
about 4pm for a snooze – John slept badly last night due to his pillow being too low. At 5.30 we went out
to eat at the same pub sharing a gargantuan meal of pork ribs & chips which we noticed other people
eating as a single dish – the Austrians have gigantic appetites & the men have builds to prove it.
Incidentally our Crocs don’t raise an eyebrow here – some locals are wearing them. Apparently they cost
about €40,00 so are expensive by local standards. Hotel Post put on a big buffet style breakfast so we took
4 pieces of fruit with us on the walk. It is a well-situated place & costs €75,00 for a double room with

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external bathroom & toilet but with a handbasin in the room & we are quite comfortable. Comfort seems
easy to come by in Vienna – the old town seems free of beggars (I’ve only seen 2 gypsy women at church
€1,00 (0,50 x2 4
doors) & hawkers & police, compared to Italy, where all are present in numbers. nth
Belvederegarten) + €12,00 ((0,50 tip) drinks @ Stadtpark) + €22,40 ( nJudenplatz) + €2,80
(skrem) = €38 [A$65].
23/9/07 (River ♪♫). Epping → Balmain (rfta th n Balmain  The Sunday Age
nr kafe nRozelle b4 browzn nth Rozelle ☼day Market; p10 onth Garricks 2rks4 thus vth rzdnt
prmt rgan 2moro) → Beecroft (4 thtrnl +chuwus  @ thBlansjaars ( Wingdings 10/9/05)
hoo rngood spirits (25/10/07. bt hvjst fowndowt ← Egle x e th@ Rasa (brthda 23/10) zn hsptl zr
rzltv rbludklot n♀r wchz → losv rto & rejust mblte) zkm d2 thdstnktle sbdud mood vJohn
Garrick hoo semz ovrwlmd x thdrrmrz v♂z kdz Lou & M@) → Epping (rkwt evnn – H & mum (rlso
Helen) n mumz ; m  I am a Strange Loop x Douglas Hofstadter © 2007 (gtt thru
Amazon tz chepr evn wthth  j)).
30/9/07. It was dreamily misty all along the valley when we woke up, but it cleared to a hot
day. We walked across the arm & then across a small creek (Hanging Rock?) up onto the ridge where we
found a track & followed it through grazed paddocks with gums. There were plenty of cattle, including a
magnificent Hereford bull with his herd around him who came expectantly close probably anticipating that
were were harbingers of food/salt/open gate to next enticing paddock where we retreated, onto clearly
marked private property. Hadnt gone far when we were sprung by friends of the owner who remained
distinctly censurious despite Johns attempts at cameraderie. So we retreated to the river bank to walk
back to our spot. It was a nice walk & John scored 3 tortoise shells to add to his collection. Stopped at the
van to pack them away & then went on to the great pool we’d found yesterday on the arm where we
swam & did some bird-watching where the callistemons were in fuller bloom. It was a relaxing gentle walk
in beautiful surrounds. When we got back to the van we were amazed that there was still no-one else here
in paradise. The owners friend confirmed that the Old Glen Innes Road is terrific & that all the rivers
draining into the Clarence are magnificent – perhaps that’s where everyone else is! We saw a goanna on
the walk today, & John saw another streak across the cleared land below the van as we were depositing
the tortoise shells. There were tortoises sunning themselves on rocks in the river, a flock of ducks & a pair
of swans with 5 youngsters. We are very clean campers this trip as we have been swimming 4 or 5 times
each day – the water is enticing, with gravel or rock underfoot & flowing so its very fresh & sparkling.
Sumv thz v bn n: Pied Butcherbird (Cracticus nigrogularis) (v takn rfotov 1vth2 th@ nspkt
us 2 f w lev ne foodowt zt woz tugn @ rpesv rop dangln ↓ ; thei gretd owr mornn wth thr butful
flute♪; nth → w  r♀♂ chasn awa r Pheasant Coucal (Centropus phasianinus); Osprey
(Pandion holiaetus) (jwrn brkfst 1 woz sitn nr  nth mdlv thrvr); Hardhead (White-eyed )
(Aythya australis); Blue Billed (Oxyura australis) (owtsd th n@chrl ); z   kn 
Noisy Friarbird (Philemon cornicularis), Little Friarbird (Philemon citreogularis), Blue-faced
Honeyeater (Entomyzon cyanotis); bow Lorikeet (Trichoglossus haematodus) (thez lrst 3 r
@rktd x th flowrn gumz x th wch 2gthr wth thflowrn botlbrsh x thrvr @rkt numrus smorl but noize &
lvle hune etrz wch  dont bothr dntfn & n u wthm kspt 4 thBlack-chinned Honeyeater
(Melithreptus gularis) wch  doent ofn  & thScarlet Honeyeater (Myzomela sanginolenta) wch
 hrdle evr  @orl; thmost numrus finch r Red-browed tail (Neochmia temporalis) & Double-
barred Finch (Taeniopygia bichenovii); percht nrvr roks u r shor2  Darter (Anhinga
melanogaster), Little Pied Cormor (Phalacrocorax melanoleucos), Pied Cormor
(Phalacrocorax varius), & Great (Black) Cormor (Phalacrocorax carbo); v orlrde shnd th
bow -eater (Merops Ornatus) th@ prch nerx @ brkfst & ths evnn   r Superb -wren
(Malurus cyaneus) wch woz blak nth chst nstdv prpl zm uzt2; thlokl pjn zth Bar-shouldered 
(Geopelia humeralis); thsz jst r samplv wots O & th☼ hz ↓ &  wont bothr u wth th komn  th@
u  vrewr suchz Laughing Kookaburra (Dacelo novaeguineae); Pied Currawong (Strepera
graculine); Olive-backed Oriole (Oriolus sagittatus); Eastern Rosella (Platycerus eximius) (ie. vth
Rosella Soup Can vrte); Torresian (Corvus orru) (wch  kn now); Eastern Whipbird
(Psophodes olivaceus) (wch wwr n vre klos x zw rk d nakd nlush gren grrs x n☼8d pool); rth
Wedge-tailed Eagle (Aquila audax) w bn h t x r (Gymnorhina tibicen (no rlov thuropen 
non n zth Šarka)); north Pelican (Pelecanus conspicillatus) th@ l&d nr pool nth rvr; north Black

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 (Cygnus atratus) r v wch w  wth 5 signts); north raptorz wch h nth sk wch  dont
tr 2dntf.
7/10/07. We have visitors: a & foal we  on our walk ↑stream yesterday r grazing
nearby. No signov th stallion that was with them. Perhaps they r used2 kumn her 4 th100% shad
prv x th z. Tz r skorchr vr da & thsmok haz  th nthuthr sdv th zgtn thikr. Th hzbn
nowr mndz sins w 1st t ystrda & thsmornn w r td owr → ↓strem wn sum strongr wind gusts
madus nsrtan O tz posbl bhavyr. Wrt2 bkum rkrown- zt posbl th z wrowr  z trd kood k@ch
rlt  airborn mbrz? W thortt safr 2sta ner th nkas tne 2b shftd. Wr vri km4tbli stu8d nth shad
nspunji grengrrs wth rpoolv depr H2O 2 kooloff O 150yrdzwa. Vri now&thn wget rstrongr wind gust,
nuff 2blo m  ofth tabl, &  → owtv owr sha  →2 thpadk 2 nth drkshn vth rdj
thwind&smok rkumn  ½ kspktn 2 thridjtop gumz rflam. Thrz r♀/♂ nr 4x4 @ thbig pool rfu
100yrdzwa @th  vk8d x The Greens  ystrda. Hz doon rkrp wrd puzl. m  thez ♪♫ s10 nth
talbr vth  wth & dgtl h&i. Rlir w fotod r klmn 1vth z (1v th2 wv  sofr 2da). Tz
1.00pm & m ternnon th nwz. Th♀/♂ hoo wr  thrvr hv drvnoff – wr x owrslvz. Lrst nt & thsmornn
w mad kstrvg & prlongd (H rknz  mzmrzd ♀r ths mornn lk r COBRA mzmrzn r ) & 
woz  how good travln z4 m hlth & th@ mab m rn@chrlborn NOMAD.W r re d & owr 
lowsus 2travl rlot bt mab thhaz & thsmok bilown   th r rmndrz orl znt zt semz IN CLOUD
CUCKOO LAND. Thwind hz t rgan – kspt 4 ♪♫ † thrvr & thbuznov z thz bkum vre slnt…O 8ft
 tht k v1vth z zr 3" x 4" plrk : “In memory of ¶ ASHLEY STUART BOYD ¶ Who loved
‘THE PINES’ and ¶ ‘LITTLE RIVER’ ¶ and spent many happy years of his life in this area. ¶
11-3-1912 30-7-1992 ¶ Placed here by his family”. (2.40pm; ovr thlrst 1½ hwrz  klowdz hv
4md; gr v thundr) … (3.45pm) Th woz nspktd x hlrkoptr midmornn & nuthr1 hzjust rrvd. Ovr
thlrst hwr 2 s & uthr vyklz hv  prst  thGRAFTON drkshn (E 95kz). Fthortez  thrwz ne
dangr 2us wdhvbn wornd!…4got2 shn rler th@ rmezurov how kler thH2O z zth@ thsmornn wwr
abl2  tortorzz kruzn rlong thmdlv thrvrbotm huntn prezumble 4 thsmorl krustashnz wv  livnt.
14/10/07.  nth Gwydir River (n Torryburn (loklt)) → (100kz; vr Kingstown,
Warrambah Station, Pera Station, Crow Mountain Creek, Glen Riddle Recreation
Reserve (Barraba Shire Council) nth Split Rock Dam (no H2O; hdr ) → BARRABA (ptrl &
H2O,  nth munspl prk, 8 skrmz) → (50kz) → MANILLA ( sn 4 thCHINKY CHOW
BRIDGE; drnk lmnlm&btrz @ pub) → (40kz) → WARRABAH NATIONAL PARK (wrwr  4thnt
@ $3//nt (wchw mt pa) nkst2th Namoi River H2Oz flon klen ovr g it boldrz), right next to
the bushranger Thunderbolt’s Hole where presumably he (a.k.a Fred Ward) camped/watered the horses he
stole etc. There is a sculpture of him on horseback in Uralla where he’s buried, shot by a trooper. We
drove through impressive scenery on the way here but all is extremely dry with that parched, bleached
look typical of late summer. Heard on the radio recently that 80% of NSW is in drought & it certainly
shows. Passed through some large stations which seemed to be part of a big corporation or consortium as
in the Centre. Last night was extremely cold – I’m sure they got the −1° predicted for Armidale as we both
felt the chill through multi-layers. We are alone in the park after a couple of cars left around 4pm. There
are no other campers.
21/10/0.  ndr  wth suprb vu ( Saturday 20/10/07 (no 72)) ovr Jugiong
Creek n wr Cumbarmurra Rd mets th ld rod (w  2  go x nth ld rod nth vle & 0 wnt →
us nth ntr ) → (60kz?; thrz rodkil nth 4mv  nvre ld rod wvbnn – nvr  so e 1z
nth Hume Highway) → YASS (ptrl; ) → (vr 125kz Murrumnbateman, Sutton,
Bungendore) → BRAIDWOOD ( z, t bunz;  murlz) → (77kz) → BATEMANS BAY
(shopn; ) → (60kz vr MORUYA) → MERINGO (wev dun rO ( 19/9/07.))
23/12/07 (X-mas 07). ABRAHAMS BOSOM RESERVE → ( t mor from ♀ hoo
puldowt th ( stl x2 wdth (udb mprs !!) & hk red zz thPUBIK  - hop tgoz ↓ x th m du 4
thultrsownd 8 jan) → Nowra ( , ptrl) → Kangaroo Valley ( ) → SYDNEY (mumz nkslnt 4m).
th

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 9/3/08 (YORKE PENINSULA). ROBE (outside the &chip shop @ thport) 11.50am. Az 
 1 ♀ volunteered th@ the problem was the lithoz vth x-p@ communities had not confronted the
historical issue of the contribution made 2 the extermination of the  vlithol& x their own 4 z&
how the failure to do so has contributed to the cultural inheritance of x-p@s like ♀rslf. ♀  if the i
is brought up among the ♀♀ ♀ mixz wth they klaim whoever does it must be a  thmslvz. I havnt had
a chance to test many reactions to my discovery of the majors name on the memorial in the foyer.
One venerable ♀, a community elder, wasn’t surprized & was keen to tell me how her brother had
once prevented a person from the Adelaide community from taking an active part in a Melbourne
event because of his past in the administration of 1941 – 44….(@ Fresh Water Lake, 1pm). A ♀ of
my own age of commendable community valuez & moral attributes I have always admired (& could
never aspire to having 0 to start with) demanded to know why I was interested in the  instead of
devoting my undoubted talents to writing about the lithoz sent to SIBERIA. With ♀r chin quivering ♀
proceded to lecture me on how every litho family had members who had been exiled, many of whom
perished. I expect she is expressing the majority attitude at the ♣. I am sure the good matron doesn’t
realize ♀ is giving a culturally conditioned response which is code for a repugnant implied
equivalence argument which sez they () sent us → SIBERIA so don’t be surprised by the
vengeance they brought down on their own heads from the uncontrollable elements of our own (after
the murder of 8  religious students in Jerusalem a couple of days ago young men were running
around shouting “kill Arabs!”). Yes, the murders are done by criminals alright but the enabling
groundwork is laid by the moral (silent?) majority (respected lawyers will argue we should be allowed
to torture prisoners and th@ incapacity to defend yourself should not provide sufficient grounds to
protect you from being accused of the most horrible offences). When I get back from the trip I will test
the waters for more responses but I had set out ( Wednesday 5/3/08) in this piece of writing to
analyse my own (though it can be argued purely on semantic grounds th@ self-analysis is pointless &
self-knowledge is impossible) as I stood facing the memorial….Which returns me to the LIETUKIS
GARAGE massacre the latest docos about which Saulius had sent me on a DVD ( Tuesday
18/12/07) which started the chain of events th@ has me writing now. The fact is I had heard
‘eyewitness’ explanations of the event long before my 1st exhausting correspondence with Saulius.
Someone whose father knew someone who had been there knew for sure th@ the event was
organized by SS general Stableker & th@ just released prisoners who had been tortured & starved by
the NKVD were trucked in german army vehicles to face their just arrested torturers seperately
trucked to the point from which the torturers were marched by their victims to the LIETUKIS
GARAGE. & all this time I have believed some version of the story. After all a glance at the foto of the
emaciated men (wearing white or tricolor armbands to signify they were PARTIZANAI) showed clearly
they were hardly more than skeletons compared to the well-fed group of party functionaries they were
escorting down a street in KAUNAS, my birthplace. On the same DVD sent by Saulius which gives
the name I was looking at in the list on the memorial where he shares a resting place with my
father is an interview with a current litho MP (ZINGERIS) who overviews a portion of the research
being done @ the centre for genocide studies (in only) who points out th@ the identities of some
18 – 28 (cant remember which number was mentioned) of the victims have finally been established.
There is not one known o ial among them. They were all just – BUTCHERS, BAKERS &
CANDLESTICK MAKERS!!
16/3/08. Ovrnt  (n lt O 10kz Sv CORNY POINT nth SPENCER GULF)  (
s rlong shor; e ;  Hooded Plover (Charadrius rubricollis), Sooty Oystercher
(Haematopus fuliginosus), Ruddy Turnstone (Arenaria interpres)  ‘Swincer Rocks’ (4 , 
 x rwav nr rokpool), & ; th zr rok lobstr sankchre)  ‘Gym Beach’ (nth INNES NATIONAL
PARK @ th vth YORKE PENINSULA, S.A.;  4 thnt nr shad  @ $6 (konsshn) 4 ntre + $5 4
ovrnt sta; no1 ls h; Masked Lapwing (Plover) (Vanellus miles) nth oshn rox).
23/3/08. Ovrnt nth skru (6kz  MARION BAY)  (vr MARION BAY)
WAROOKA ( ort smokt ( utr ) & Sunday Mail)  MINLATON (8 smokt ; @ tabl
n sntrl medin strip wth rkashnl pl8: “In memory of PAST PRESIDENT / LADY GLENYS JONES /
Minlaton & Districts / Lions Ladies Auxiliary:”; ptrl; K8 & Joe vztd Michael nth hosptl: ♂z krm;

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ners  mt thr 4nuthr 2 weks)  KOOLYWURTIE (not much left of what must have been a small
settlement – a one-room school, a church, a “pioneer park” with memorial cairn: “To Commemorate the /
Pioneers of Koolywurtie District / In memory of / a way of life now gone // Dedicated by / Mrs F. H. Tonkin /
in April 1975 / Unveiled 5th day of April 1986 / by Mrs H.R.I. Brown” & the remains of a couple of tennis
courts (not in existence I’m sure when my maternal grandmother Rebecca Olive Mason was born here in
1888). It is a dry, bleached looking area where sheep & grain are produced. I think I’ve gone about as far
as I can go with my maternal great grandparents young married history. There’s still no clue where Annie
Feehan (wife of George Golland Mason, mother of Rebecca, grandmother of Vi) turned up in S.A., but I
suspect Yankalilla on the Fleurieu Peninsula may be the place (29/3/08. due to Vi’s knowledge of the name
– mum was always seriously geographically challenged so for her to even know there was such a place
indicates it was some part of family history). That will have to wait for another time. (13/8/10. See Friday
3/10/08 & Saturday 1/11/03))  PORT RICKABY (nst ch  KOOLYWURTIE; ort skrmz;
)  (10kz S) BARKER ROCKS (4 ; ns  ut 2 e  so wr  2 r  w sustowt erlir n
PORT RICKABY)  ovrnt .
20/4/08 ( ). Red Bank Conservation Park (15kz E vBurra, S.A.)   Burra (msrjz
 K8, H & Joe (re e, & re Elliots 2 wch r mrjn, & ♂z krorln r lotmor);  2 Joe & lft msj 4 H
(  stl hvnt ds wthr 2  2 thGawler Range or thMacdonnells O Alice Springs))  
Port Germein ( Port Germein (no 58)) (topt wth H2O (wch hz stuf flotn nt ut  oilt 4 us);
lft msj 4 H 2 m N 2 Alice rlong thStuart Highway)   (vr Hallett: The birthplace of
Sir Herbert Wilkins)   Port Augusta (ptrl; sprmrkt; nth wa owt thsn  1221: Alice
Springs)   Pimba (ptrl @ 167c/ltr)    off throd 4 thnt (m O 1k off thwa r lv
00yrdz E vth  nkst2 rdrlkt H2O towr nt fr  rradio towr; 4 thlrst 50kz th oil ndor hz n
kuon mor&mor – chktt & thrz lmost no oil & thltl th@s lft zvre dert but Glendambo wr thrz rservs
stashn z45kz N (hz nvr hpnd 4 &  sspkt twoznt proprle rplast nth lrst servs).
27/4/08. Ovrnt  ((nth 4x4  (13kz) 2 th Larapinta Trail (sec 4/5 junction) 4kz 
thwa).  @ ☼ 4 th wok. Woz vztd x ♀/♂ Pink Cockatoo (Cacuatua leadbeateri)) 
 Ellery Creek Big Hole. (@ lrst! – rH2O O wth H2O so  hdr /wosh. Spinifex Pigeon
(Geophaps plumifera) kum4 rdrink. Ths  z uzn wth 2rsts: 2 3  kdz hoor 2 ; jnl kdz
 th jnl dn skool n Alice; 2 r♂ m aj hooz singl & livz perntle nr mobl ; 2 r 
wch kam4 rwedn vr frnd 2da @ Simpsons Gap, th♂ spndz rlotv  nASIA zr rep 4 rretal kumpne
– orl wl  woz trn 2  thz ♪♫ nth shad vr rooft nk tabl rfta   r rlong th Larapinta Trail
....6.30pm. Lft thprk 2  nprv@ nth S sdv thwa. 2moro     rgan & E nth
Larapinta Trail. Thsz jnl l& &  dont no fm legl.
4/5/08.  @ Serpentine Chalet Ruins. 2daz woz mor lk old z. Lft @ 8.30
 @ 3.45.  , ovr dal, thru gorj, & nle orlvt  cun . Wotr gr8 feln 2get2 thtopv r &r
drama vstr wr u rekrnz th chrz  havn studd thtopo shet (Larapinta Trail map 9). How
swet thornj, how frndle thp@chv shad nthle vr rok, how dple kwnchn zr fl v H2O wn yr prcht!
  thru rgorj wch  thj O 2k W v Inarlanga Pass. Wn  got2 thdam  sprzd O 8
Western Bowerbirds (Chlamydera guttata). Z woz st&n nth H2O r (5/5/08. twoz thdzrt tp –
PERENTE) kam kompltle ignorn me 4r long lezurle drink onle O 1metr  me. Twoz O 4
noz  taltip.  koodv tuchtt. Tkpton drnkn wl  got me & tookr foto. (♀/♂v Pink Cockatoo (aka
Major Mitchell) (Cacatua leadbeateri) just ovr) T r Torresian (Corvus orru) percht O
3mtrz  me snrln & krokn wa10 4me 2 . Th lft & kam 3z 2 ferthr nspktme shown no fer
wotsovr zf thd no  th@  woz 1v th nme. Twoz rvre sp feln – zf  hd n nspktd x nachr.
m prvljd.
11/5/08. Ovrnt  4-5kz 4 u get2 Corroboree Rock, nr  rlong krek 1k offth wa
(spnt O 1½ owrz trn2 x  th♂ wth th2 kdz  ths& og nth krek 4 givn & givn ♂m rlift 2th
wa 2  r4x4)   Corroboree Rock   (40kz)   Trephina Gorge (ntfr  th 2th
lrjst Ghost Gum (Eucalyptus papuana) nkorktle namd Corymbia aperrerinja nth lt chr @
Ormiston Gorge.  jd 2get r ut foto vr lrj flokv O 100 Red-tailed Black Cockatoo
(Calyptorhynchus banksii) takn nf (rlso took sum shotsv thGhost Gum 4 yr klkshn, ). m
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t rrthr prv@le nth ∟vth @th vth gorj. 2 ro tp hoo  thrair Grey Honeyeater
(Conopophila whitei) kn zrvd nr pu lk grdn n Alice t   ♂m  woznt rt r so thn w
dskust w r singl grvlir nr klf top woz nflowr wn thuthrz wrnt & w gred twoz nprp ion 4  (orl th
vjtashn zs st n thdrowt).  woz rmazd  thnosv Painted Firetail (Emblema pictum), Zebra
Finch (Taeniopygia guttata), & 2r lsr x Spinifex Pigeon (Geophaps plumifera) & Diamond 
(Geopelia cuneata) kumn 2drnk @th shrnkn pool nth gorj. @ 2pm wn  kam 4r wosh/ tha hd orl
dsrpd. Nth   2r rtrd swiss ♀/♂ vln nr 4x4 KEA + poptop. Hdr  nsd thr & tms
good t tha onle get 15lt/100k (dzl) koz thz r vre powrfl 4ltr njn. KEA slm rftr 1y & uthr vl
kumprnez m & slm rgain rlv yl8r.  m 2rmm r rfta 1 ytha kost $60,000.   m O
owr ip 2 UROPA nxt y& tha rk  Como  Lugano  Lucern  Engelberg  Bregenz
etc.
18/5/8.  4 thnt (nth g r sd Ernest Giles Rd 5kz W v Stuart wa; ☼ @
7.10am; u kn hthtrafk  thwa)   Erldunda (ptrl @ $1.81; 25ltr/200kz ie 1lt/8kz, 10/80) 
 (fotozv ; utfl vjtashn & l&skap 4 lrst 130kz  Kings Canyon; Kathleen Springs
(1.2kz, 1 owr !); twoz 2.5kz ; 00z & 00z vZebra Finch (Taeniopygia guttata) @ thpool; ths  zO
20kz  th Kings Canyon )   Kings Canyon  (zn Watarrka National Park; @thndv
thshort 2 thkanyn r grupv yank skool♀♀ wr xchanjn skremz & ylz wth rnuthr grup vthr own prt
hoo wr doon thrim - thsz nn wchz sak 2th lokl orjnez & evn 2sumvs 2rsts – yanks lev rlrj
; tz vre snk; l doo thrim 2moro (O 3owrz))   Kings Canyon RESORT (yr not rlowd
2 nthprk so u nt rvoidt @ $13.50/nt & tz r ad n wth orlth fltz; thrzr Bush Bash nth r
2nt, ptrl @ 190c/ltr: 33 ltz /323kz ie 1lt/10kz, 10/100; tha do hlikoptr stn ps; th skavnjr
r vre old & th oldst vorl rth Yellow-throated Miner (Manorina flavigula) wch  fotod e10
owtv m  ; thrz rshop, rstor , kafez; nois kerfu @ 10.00pm;  DINGO   lk ordnre s
az & sum rhowln now. d H nth l&d & got thru 2♀r @ Ivanhoe – evrithnz OK: ktchn rlmost pantd;
Dan zg10 mor rsponst @ werk  Stephen t nomor $$  et; Michaelz 2 ‘norml’ & Benz
‘OK’; tha hd thr koldst mada 4 30 y).
25/5/08. t @ rzort nth Watarrka National Park (Dingo  xpshnle ♪♫♪ rfta ☼)
  (10kz  da nk  4 )  ( †† )   ( @ 4mr sd qre owtv  vwa n
s&dun & dzrtok cun ; 110kz  rzort; DINGO & prnts;  vO 1owr: s ktle
kumprs, l prnts evrwr,  no )   Erldunda  (p l 4 300kz @ 181c/l
4 $61.50 ie 11.3l z/100kz; v kiprz 4 )   (85kz S ½ owr nap  thStuart wa) 
 (189kz)    4 thnt (m nth rmanz vth old nld Stuart wa wch z // @z 2
thnu1  wch m skrnd  thik mulga skru tho tz onle rfu 00yrdzrwa; skru z gnn 2takovr
thred soil vth old ; m 2th sd ovt & hopn thser wl mnuff 4me 2  nth mornn; tz n ovr;
 mt n PITJANTJATJARA l& wthowt rprmt; Marla z68kz S;  took fotoz koz  uz2
avl ths  35-40 yz rgo & mahv t nths vre 4 orl  no.)
7/9/08 (dr cunt ). Ovrnt (S Mt Bryant nwr Dust Hole Creek ††
thHeysen Trail) 4O 6howrz. @ 1 s m vDust Hole Creek tl w fownd rsmorl shak wr thrz r
st

foto v4 (“The Wild Bunch”)  wch z “We’ve been coming to this piece of Paradise for
the last 20 years. The hut is older than you are. Respect private property and have a
good camp.” The hut hz 4  & ovrs r ut H2O O @ r wr thHeysen Trail †† thkrek. W 
thtral 4r it t t td drzln so w  zwwr wthowt owr  z. H hd thonli & ♀r legz hv srvvd
th2 smorl whd2 . Sum   : White-winged -wren (Malurus leucopterus);
Variegated -wren (Malurus lamberti); Striated Pardalote (Pardalotus striatus); Crimson Chat
(Epthianura tricolor); White-winged Triller (Lalage tricolor); Banded Lapwing (Vanellus tricolor).
 . Tz vri kold rgan – so m  2t n Witold Gombrowiczz Ferdydurke O
wch Susan Sontag  “… it seems likely that Gombrowicz did not know where he was

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going when he began the novel.” & Gombrowicz ♂slf  n1968, thyb4 ♂ : “But my
words were soon whirled away in a violent dance, they took the bit between their teeth
and galloped towards a grotesque lunacy with such speed that I had to re the first part
of the  in order to give it the same grotesque in10sity.”, & Joey Kowalski rks: “How do
we find ourselves on these tortuous and abnormal roads? Normality is a tightrope-walker
above the abyss of abnormality. How much po10tial madness is contained in the
everyday order of things….” H zn Gallows Thief x Bernard Cornwell wth thadv n LED
lamp th@u klip nth .
14/9/08. (nn fmrl lak O 5kz W N vHesso wa sdn – drkshnz 4 how 2gethr
wr prov  Megan @th pp man10 komplx;  Elegant Parrot (Neophema elegans); d
wotz shurli 1v thmost u fl flowrz nth O – Sturt’s Desert Pea – rli krmzn fownd unxpktdli n
p@chi ds ushn, tz rli nst  thhrsh dzrt sOnz; H  r♪ vthanks 2 Megan – thkomplx woz
mt so  stukt  r wndzkren)   (nspktd i short aks offth wa 2 thskru )  
Woomera (K8 & Joe (♂z da 2da) & orlzwl;i PHALLIC sm () npu lk ;
Woomera Heritage & Visitor Centre 12t shntz ♀rtjv n 10 rfugz; nskripshn  nr r
plrk nth pu lk prk: “JOINT DEFENCE FACILITY NURRUNGAR * 1970-1995 * ¶
Commemorating the 25th anniversary of the Joint Defence Facility Nurrungar and the
ongoing contribution of its people to the mutual defence interests of the United States
and Australia”; t 1 gren pepr, 1 kukmbr, 1 tomrto & 2 skremz; I saw 2 wedge-tailed eagles
sitting right next to the road as if they were stuffed & put there by the tourist bureau, but they were real &
flew off when we stopped – John is quite blasé about them, having seen many, but I’ve never been so
close to one before;)   Lake Mary (4thnt ; tz rnuthr fmrl lak  r ig  2y rgo; tz 30kz
Sv Roxby Downs & 2kz Ev thwa; lrst 2 v lft – wr h  owr lonsum).
21/9/08. Waltumba Public  nth shorv Lake Gairdner.  wok 4 ☼ rgr8
slns fln mzr - thcunt 12t sut H, wshoodv   th E kost - t rn mornn 6 m
mzrns mltd rwa.  Singing Bushlark (Mirafra javanska) & Orange Chat (Epthianura aurifrons).
Spnt most vthda lak, krek, & sOnz: jujn  th & dropnz thsz thr plagO &
d 2 1 revn fnd rsklr10 – w nrv t. Frsh mrks nth  show thrv n vz nowr a s
t wr thonli 1z hnow. Chanjd th ri nm LUMIX TZ15 - tlrstd 3 wks. Fnsht Ferdydurk
 Witold Gombrowicz. Twoz good t ddnt njoit zmuch z♂z uthr 3 novlz: Trans-Atlantyk,
Cosmos & Pornografia. Wl ordr thdiary wn w gt .
28/9/08. nth  ak / Waulkinna Hill (362m) & Mt Allalone (insel (l&: jr) berg
(mountan: jr)) n  dskr d  ‘Parks’ z: “St&ing 348 meters  level, Mt Allalone
is probay the hill explorer E. J. Eyre climbed on 22 September 1839, and from which he
had an ex10sive  to the south over a generally low level cunt with occasional
elevations at intervals; 2the north the view was obstructed by the Gawler .” Wr nth
 / Old Paney std & Paney std nth S ejv thGawler S.A. (ys d thr woz rhottwnd
gal folowd  rkoldwnd gal t ths a.m. tz stil & drzln)   Cacuppa Well Tank (ms ys
nkomplet ston worl)   rfu kz frthr throd 2 Paney std ( r HQ) & rlv kz rlong rmnr
ak offt N (unanswered questions about the history of this park keep rising to the surface – why is
there a spot called Policeman’s Point? It was a “police camp established near Old Paney homestead in
about 1864”. What for? There mustnt have been more than about 40 Europeans in the area if that, some
of them children no doubt, so the need for a police encampment cant be to do with lawlessness. It can
only be to round up the Malkaripangala who were competing for the limited water supply & send them off
“to the government depot at Fowlers Bay and …to Port Lincoln.” Did they go without a fight? What are the
granite markers we’ve seen, one just above Policeman’s Point & another as you enter Waganny camping
area under Waulkinna Hill? At first we thought they were markers to indicate camp grounds, but we didn’t
see any at Kokodo Hill, Scrubby Peak or Yandinga where the other camp grounds are, & Policeman’s Point
is not an official campground anyway. Are they perhaps boundary markers where the corners of the
original pastoral leases met? Are they sites where the Malkaripangala were rounded up? Policeman’s Point
has a good creekbed nearby which must have good waterholes after rain. Waganny campground is
dominated by Waulkinna Hill, where the granite has been exposed & weathered into tors & phallic pillars

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quite unique in the park – a special place for ceremonies or gatherings? How the imagination works when
the facts are unknown (or hidden?). John Howard (cursed be his name) refused to accept the “black arm
band view of history”– it proves he was a lawyer not an historian. All history is “black arm band”
everywhere in the world where the newcomers stumbled across the old occupiers. It couldn’t have been
otherwise. Australia may have been built on the sheep’s back, but it was also built on the bones of people
caught unawares. The least we should do in rememberance of them is to admit the truth)   (vr
S E n ; wwoz nth prk 6 nts t nvr pad th$6 n fe & th$5/nt n chrj)   4thnt O
34kz throd 2 Wudinna nuthr 30kz S (♂psv h; Hz po merjz fulli 4md -  nth rod
2 ths1 ( Saturday 27/9/08):

These are our songs and markers:

“We travelled down past Scrubby Peak
Along the sandhill track
We mustered all the twelve mile plains
And brought the shorn sheep back ….”*
Squat stone house
Plaque from respectful descendants
Fenceposts, windmills, wells, tanks

They have no songs or markers –

Only the wind crying in the casuarinas
Galahs calling a shrill warning
Empty creekbeds silent in the sun
Stony hills a rolling horizon

* Wednesday 24/9/08; nth skru rmung ylo evrlrs10z;  Mallee (Leipoa ocellata) klos
() !! – nstedv n rwa t off vri frst – 4 onli th 3rd  nmi lf.)
5/10/08. Yesterday evening we witnessed a “culture clash” on the shores off Point Sturt. A
photographer couple (software providers by the advertising logo on their 4x4) with extremely expensive
equipment were snapping the birds & flora when a doggy couple (2 Irish wolfhounds, a staffordshire terrier
& a kelpie) arrived, obviously getting ready to give the mutts their daily exercise chasing the large
congregation on the sand bar at the end of the point. The dogs had a special trailer hooked up to the back
of their 4x4. The photographers were dressed in their sensible khakis & desert boots while the dog owners
were in shorts & thongs, him in a singlet in the very cool wind (John & I were already in our night-time
layers). The dog owners had to put the eager dogs on leashes while they waited for the photographers to
go away, but they got tired of waiting, packed up the pooches & went. Today we saw some “Murraylands”
culture. The river is a magnet for the water-deprived South Aussies, so all along the banks (& they are
steep here) from Mannum north-eastwards are shacks of varying levels of luxury perched on the available
river frontage, where people cruise up and down in power boats & jet-skis. One bloke looked like an extra
for a US redneck Tv series – cowboy hat, pony-tail & tatts, but flying the Oz flag on his car. Away from the
river is extremely dry and in places heavily grazed. We are on an unfenced property away from the river
where the ground is almost totally bare from sheep grazing, among scattered mallee vegetation. Towns
we passed through today were Milang, Wellington, Jervois, Murray Bridge (mini-shop-up at Woolies, coffee
& paper at a nice café on the river reserve where we rang Joe & Kate), Bow Hill, Krockn’s Landing,
Nildottie, Blanchetown. While the pamphlet we picked up in one of the info offices, “Discover Murray
Trail”, waxes lyrical: “a great opportunity to explore one of the world’s great river systems offering a memorable
and stunning experience”, the S.A. end of the trail is very uninspiring, given the appalling drought
2nt wr
counditions and the imminent demise of the river system. rlv kz r stashn ak off
thgood dert rod wch z N  Blanchetown  Morgan nth W sdv thrvr: wr O ½ wa twn th2
townz. Ys da hvn  Andrey Platonovz Soul & The Return v poot ♂m rwa 4good: v
hdnuff v♂z terjd mtholojzn, & th rf werd  John Berger woz justz bad! 2nt m rzumn
Zettel  m rgulr st&  - goodol, rlr Ludwig Wittgenstein (u dont s yr  n
Ludwig zu gottr spnd so much  n rfta ech sn10s).
12/10/08. Danyo Reserve (13/8/10. DANYO RESERVE (no 53)) (fild 1v th wth
rlv nchz vdert so w kn  2 Murrayville & digowt rodsd ‘African Daisies’ (gazanias) 2t
s 2 2tak2 MELBOURNE)   Murrayville (dugowt thdazez)   (reorgnzd thgnth
& fild rnuthr  wth dazez)   Sea Lake ( & Sunday Age)   (ddnt  twn Sea

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Lake & Charlton rfta r tff)   (rzumd )   (vr Inglewood, Dunnolly)  
Timor (wv dunr  ( Thursday 4/9/08)) 4thnt 11 rgan hnd The Grand Duke Mine.
19/4/09 ( lir09ri p♪♫). €6.65 (supermer o @ Piazza Santa Maria Maggiore:
etta di ariccia 3.51 (dlishs vri - y nt tha makt lk so nMELBOURNE?); yoghurt 0.91; pane 0.83;
banane 0.30; mele royal gala 0.39; VINO ROSSO (il mezzolitro) 0.71 – rvri gnfk evnt - m 1st
swigv lkO rf 1⅔ y ON THE WAGON. HOORAY!). €4.06 (supermercato: pecorino
corsignano 1.81; chino 0.47; succo 1.73) = €10.71. Lrst wekwek O = €611. We were lucky today in a
number of ways – at breakfast our host suggested a bus-trip from Piazza San Giovanni in Laterano to the
catacombs on Via Appia Antica via the 218 bus. This seemed a good idea as we had €6 worth of unused
bus tickets & last time we missed out on the catacombs, so we set off towards San Giovanni. As we passed
Stazione Termini I suggested to John that we check in at the tourist info there just to make sure the tombs
were open – it was a longish journey if they weren’t. The young man at the tourist office confirmed that
they weren’t (“Its Sunday, & the Vatican – you know”) but suggested that as it was the first day of a
cultural week (19-21 Aprile: Cultura e Spettacolo, put on by the Comune di Roma) many museums were
offering free entry, & he suggested 3: Museo Nazionale Romano Palazzo Massimo & Palazzo Altemps & the
Musei Capitolini. He wasn’t absolutely sure they were free, as no-one from the organizers of the cultural
week had actually told him, but he had rung one of the museums yesterday & someone there had
mentioned it, so it was worth trying. So off we went to the Palazzo Massimo & were electrified by the
glorious wall paintings, mosaics & artifacts on display, including the garden room from the Empress Livia’s
house at Prima Porta, painted to create a garden with pomegranate, pine & cyprus trees, poppies, daisies,
acanthus & various birds all on a deep blue background – truly breathtaking. (1/9/09. here is info from
various googled sites: The garden room was “a subterranean room [hypogeum] almost three metres below the old ground
floor. Romans were glad to escape from the hot sun into a cellar like this, and they decorated it, so that any pampered soul might be
able to find enjoyment there. The room was probably lighted from the roof….The confessed aim of the Empress Livia living at the
gates of Rome was to transfer her garden into this cool room out of the summer heat. All four walls, not interrupted by windows, are
painted as a green garden full of flowers, and anyone who comes in is in the middle of it. The illusion is helped by the arrangement of
the room: round it runs a wooden fence, broken here and there, then a broad green path, and on the other side a second fence, more
ornate and complicated, showing three patterns, which are separated at fixed intervals. There is a semicircle with high trees. Among
the trunks we have acanthus, and in some cases ivy winding round. Close to the fence there runs to right and left, as a border to the
path, a belt of flowers with very pretty white blossoms, and at equal distances between them a small cactus or an ivy-plant tied up.
Above the outer fencing there is visible a medley of trees in the garden beyond; and yet again one can recognise the trees and shrubs,
all planted in regular order—oranges with flower and fruit, and in between them splendid colours in a fine flower-bed appear over the
barrier. Farther back there are cypresses, palms, and other shady trees. In the branches a number of many-coloured birds are flitting
about, enjoying the flowers, and their freedom also, for only one of them is shut up; his golden cage is standing on the balustrade.” &
“Its temperature was so stable, winter or summer, that the frescoes are incredibly well preserved, with color and detail intact even
after two millenia.” & “As wife and business partner of the first emperor Caesar Augustus (or Octavian), the dinners that she hosted
here which often lasted for days are legendary. In addition to her hospitality and being a gourmet, classical sources describe her as a
renowned master gardener as well.” The lighting in the display is arranged so that it changes to imitate dusk &
midday. There were 3 levels of examples of the best of Roman art, & yes, it was all ‘gratuito’. While we
were there it started to rain & continued to do so for most of the day. As we were walking to the next stop,
the Musei Capitolini where the tourist man had said there was an exhibition of works by Fra Angelico, we
passed Trajan’s market, which was also ‘gratuito’, so walked through the main building there which was
impressive in its austerity, as befitted a place of commerce & administration.. It’s a big complex, still being
excavated, & looks so ‘modern’ that you expect some businessman to come out of one of the ‘offices’ to
take the days takings to the bank! (20/7/09. You can see some of it here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trajan's_Market) Through the rain to the Musei Capitolini where the queue was
respectable & the ticket office info said both entrance to the museum & to the exhibition of “Beata
Angelico” was “gratuito” to persons 65+. We made a beeline for the exhibition but were stopped by a
museum attendant because we didn’t have a ticket for it. He referred us to a woman official who ummed
& ahhed & consulted a colleague, & finally let us in. No-one at the ticket office had told the attendants it
was free for over 65s it seems. The paintings were glorious of course & we could see the continuity with
the Roman paintings we’d just seen. The rest of the museum was packed with marbles – the Dying Gaul
(1/9/09. “The artistic quality and expressive pathos of the statue aroused great admiration among the educated classes in the 17th
and 18th centuries and was a "must-see" sight on the Grand Tour of Europe undertaken by young men of the day. Byron was one such
visitor, commemorating the Dying Gaul in his poem Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: “He leans upon his hand—his manly brow /
Consents to death, but conquers agony, / And his drooped head sinks gradually low— / And through his side the last drops, ebbing
slow / From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one...”” - Wikipedia), the Equestrian Marcus Aurelius, the fragments of the
huge statue of Constantine (head, feet, knee, hands & upper arm), the bronze of the young boy removing
a thorn from his foot, the bronze of a life-size horse, a full chariot sprung on wooden wheels, innumerable
heads of Roman worthies, calendars of the names of senators, consuls, tribunes, aediles & equites,
Aphrodites, Dionysius’, Apollos, Minervas, Hercules’, sarcophogi, discus throwers, temple pediments – the
quantity & quality was amazing. By 5pm it had stopped raining & we were just about “antiquity-d out”. So
that’s why we were lucky today. Twoz r mrvlus finale 2 r roman Oida &  kn uli , dspt Hz klam
th@  woz dprst ( Friday 17/4/09) 4 th 1st fu dada  njoid evri da vt & thO ma mor thnth lrst

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 . W mad vri da tvkors zw lwaz doo koz wr stil n & tho w  onli 4  (20/4/09. +
 ths am. = 5) nlk 2yrgo wn w  x2/da th@s koz m no longr th♂  uz2 not
koz  woz  - sv ys, t not dprst.    mt kumn rkonvrt 2 MUSEOMUSEO 2!!
26/4/09. €12.50 (pizzeria via Anfiteatro 2, Lucca: formaggio, soprassata, vino,
aqua minerale frizz e) + €1.95 (succo) + €3.20 (pane – vth pzzr stl) + €0.50 ( tolini 2 tof
ths ri n ) = €18. Lrst wek O = €435. It was a bad night last night – some Germans (?) came in fairly
late & spent lots of time banging doors (another couple of Germans slammed the exit door to St. Zita’s as
we were entering) & shifting furniture. Then about 2am I had to go to the toilet but it was occupied & was
for a considerable period. I had to go up a floor to an identical bathroom which was luckily free. Then it
took ages to go back to sleep (John had also woken up & told me he’d had a dream in which I was hit by a
car!). Then the alarm went off at 7.20am. We got the 9.07 Lucca bus & arrived about 9.55 in Piazzale
Guiseppe Verdi. The first info point was closed so we made our way slowly, using the map John had
brought from Melbourne (sent by the Italian Tourism Board, along with heaps of other stuff (15/8/10. ys
d H  owr reqst 4 nfo 4 n t y p  sicilia&italia)) across the town to the other office in Piazza
Santa Maria. The young woman there, a Scot who’s been in Italy for 3 years, was very efficient & helpful &
had just finished making a phone call to a B&B for us when the owner walked in – just as had happened in
Scanno in 2007 (see Thursday 3/5/07). He took us in his car to the “Bed and Breakfast La Torre, in the heart
of Lucca - Via del Carmine 11, 55100 Lucca. €50 for double (35 single), €80 (50 single) with private bath. Free internet access. Free
accompanyment to B&B. Free help for parking. Just call us when you arrive! Tel/fax: (+39) 0583957044. www.roomslatorre.com
email: rooms@roomslatorre.com”. Since it’s the off-season, we have a double room with a tiny en-suite for
€50/night – its beautiful: marble floor, matching wardrobe, dressing-table, bedside tables & sideboard
(with marble tops), tasteful decoration & old-fashioned shuttered windows in bedroom & bathroom
overlooking a little piazza. It is very close to the geographical centre of Lucca, and also close to one of the
large supermercati outside the wall. The Via Fillungo, the major shopping street, which passes the outer
wall of the Piazza Anfiteatro, is close by & seems to be the “rat-race” for the thousands of tourists (mainly
Italiani) who come here each morning to see the town. It’s a magnificent place, completely ringed by 16 th-
17th century walls which have a walk along the top – the Passegiata delle Mura, lined by plane trees &
looking out on one side to the extensive green park that marks the old town off from its suburbs, & onto
the buildings of the town on the other. There are 12th century (San Frediano) & 13th century (San Michele)
chiesas here, and a magnificent tower topped with trees, the Torre Guinigi. There were once over 100
torre here, but only a few have survived. We can see the Guinigi one & one with a clock face (not working)
as we walk out the front door of the B&B. We walked the Via Fillungi, chockers with tourists under
umbrellas (it rained consistently for most of the afternoon) & right around the wall, making forays into the
town when we saw something interesting. We visited the Villa Bottini where a combined Polish-Italian
jewellery exhibition was housed in rooms with magnificent frescoed ceilings (free entry), glanced into the
Palazzo Pfanner with its formal gardens & classical statuary (expensive entry tickets), visited the Duomo di
San Martino where we bought the aerial view of Lucca postcard, looked in the Basilica di San Frediano
(25/7/09. Frediano was an Irish monk who was Bishop of Lucca in the early 5th century. Wikipedia),
dropped in on an ecologically sound building products exhibition because it was being held in a palazzo.
We had to buy our evening meal supplies from an alimentari in the town at considerable expense because
the supermercati outside the walls were closed (Sunday). However, we are saving on accomodation so a
little extravagance is in order. Today was just a taste – there is a lot to do here – in the town & outside the
walls too. There is plenty of green space here & some pretty buildings lining the major road that circles
the green island of the old town. So we have come from one Torre (hotel in Pisa) to another (B&B in
Lucca). Ths  sutsut mi – tzr la rnth -  lk mazmaz. m n owt 4nuthr . Hz k  
2much2qikli (8.30pm)….Sum   lf shood smpl - t y? & wood t makt mor n? Tz enuf
fu ♂ij 2servv. Sum hvt ezi t & m gr8fl.
3/5/09. €3.80 ( rioche (x2) & capuccino & capuccino scuro (4  @ 9.30am)) + €2
(capuccino & macchiato nth Piazza Pietro Nutini @r tni vilj r sd korld TIGLIO BASSO.
Nklu nth prs woz r olv pnutpnut & r olv ☼td korn kernlkernl & rord n n.) + €136 (B&B (ie
(€40 x4) - €24 (dpozit ☼d 28/4) @ Casa Cordati di Giordiano Martinelli (g d☼ vth pan Bruno
Cordati)) = €142. Lrst wek O = €495. We walked up to Tiglio (Lime Tree) Basso today along mostly mule
tracks through beautiful green countryside, over an old bridge where a rushing mountain stream fell
beneath us, past small settlements of 2 or 3 houses where dogs got very excited to see us. We didn’t pass
anyone except a young woman pushing a pram on an asphalted section of road outside one of the clusters
of houses. In Tiglio Basso we had a coffee & snacks (gratuito) in the little piazza. There is an agriturismo
chalet here, & English & Scottish accents from the people staying there. Back at Barga we were hailed by
the elderly signora who had previously noticed us photographing an amusing sign on the door of a house
on the way out of town, & we had an animated, one-sided conversation in Italian, in which I think she said
that in winter there was much rain here but no snow & that one of the houses we were standing near was
now owned by Inglesi who had made a rather formal garden where once many chickens had run. She also

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had been / had relatives who had been to Melbourne. She kissed us both on both cheeks as we parted &
asked us to give her regards to Melbourne. We said goodbye to our host, who is excited because a writer
from Lonely Planet visited from Australia yesterday. He asked us to spread the word about Casa Cordati,
but we would have even without the request – it’s an exceptional place to stay. (31/7/09. I wrote a review
for Trip Advisor. See www.tripadvisor.com/. It was a slog to get it published though as every time I submitted
it I got a notice saying it was unfinished & to fill in the required fields. As I had done this, I finally contacted
the help desk & had about 4 interchanges with a very nice man who finally worked out that since I had
used the word “cum” in the sentence “chest-cum-seat” the automatic censor built into the program to
reject dirty words was refusing to accept the offensive language I was using! When I re-phrased the
sentence it immediately became publishable.). H ‘4got 2shn’ th ‘raven epsod’ wr rlv 100 yrdyrd
 nezi  ♀ gotth j j & whd r tv nn1010 ddrgret & 2th pavd rod evn tho twoz stepr & hrdr
thn nth gorj - t orlzwl th@ ndnd wl koz soon rftrwrdrftrwrd w dskuvrd th utfl   Tiglio
Basso. Apparently one American visitor to Casa Cordati gave it 2/5 on Trip Advisor. We can only assume
that he found the absence of a TV, phone & mini-bar too much to bear. (31/7/09. He should have read the
description of Barga & surrounds on the Casa Cordati website www.casacordati.it/index_e.html: “Barga is quiet yet
refined town, and Casa Cordati is an ideal place to come for a period of concentration, study or rest…our region has long been
overlooked, since the new business routes have bypassed it. Its steep hillsides and cooler climate are not especially suited to
agriculture, and the great riches of lower Tuscany - olives and wine – do not grow here. For these reasons, it remained undeveloped
and this is now proving to be an advantage: the ancient villages are virtually intact, our hills are not disfigured.” Amen!).
Yesterday John picked up 3 grass tics from his roll in the flowery meadow & I copped one. I didn’t ‘forget’
to mention our disagreement – it was the result of a set of buttons being pushed which were implanted
quite a few years ago (10?) the description of which would take up too much time & effort.
10/5/09. €5 ( am (x2)) + €9.50 (pane, salami, formaggio , succo @ thminimer
o ) + €2 (banane x2, mele x2 t@ vernazza) + €10 (cinque terra 1da d d 2 s k)
+€1 (3 smorl pomodori  minimero @ corniglia) + €300 (afitta camera (x5 ntnt) @
Orietta Bosticca (Camera Vista Mare: www.cornigliadreams.com)) = €327.50. Lrst wekwek O
= €509.88. Today was full of the unexpected, which happens a lot in Italia: 1. we decided to do the coast
walk (sentiero 2) to Vernazza & possibly on to Monterossa al Mare & walk back again to Corniglia, a round
trip of about 6 hours according to the tourist info, only to discover to my surprise that the walk was quite
steep, rocky & narrow almost all the way to Vernazza. Since the Vernazza-Monterosso leg had been
described as even steeper, I persuaded John that a few hours in Vernazza would be nice, to give
Monterosso a miss, & to go back to Corniglia using the Parco bus (free on our Cinque Terre 1 day Card) to
connect to the easier track down to town. I have to apologize to all those folk I’ve been sniggering at for
carrying alpenstocks & wearing enormous boots & “only” doing the coast walk. It was a toughie! 2. In
Vernazza at least 3 trains pulled into the station over the 3 hours we were there – the man in the biglietti
office didn’t know what was going on, nor did an Italian who was on the platform, or the girls in the Parco
info office. “Strike” in Italia doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing as it does in Australia it seems.
Before we’d seen the trains I had jokingly said to John that an easy way back to Corniglia would be to walk
along the train tracks. Luckily we didn’t. 3. In Vernazza we soaked our tired feet in the Mare Ligure & I
suggested to John that he might like a swim, so he stripped down to his underpants (striped black & grey
cotton boxers) & jumped in. He looked good – brown & lean & muscled legs - & was one of only 3 in the
water. The other 2 were overweight young Italian men. Then he needed to dry off, so 4. he walked up the
main street of Vernazza amidst the throng of tourists in his underpants! (I have photos to prove it). No-one
turned a hair, or gave him a passing glance. Just goes to prove that if you’ve got it, flaunt it with panache.
5. We got the small (14-seater) green Parco bus at the top of the town, where a small crowd of mainly
Italiani were waiting to go up to the Cassa Parcheggio to collect their cars or to go up to San Bernadino
Santuario, as we were. The pick-up area was small & 2 Parco buses were jockeying for position so that one
nearly ran over us by persisting in backing in. Then there was a minor skirmish as the Parcheggio
travellers sorted themselves out from the San Bernadino travellers, & finally we were off, sort of. First we
were blocked by a car which was trying to park at the bus-stop (Italians are desperate to park as close to
their destination as possible to minimize the chore of walking, & a little impediment like a bus-stop means
nothing), who in turn was being hemmed in by multiple motorcyclists who’d just arrived. After that was
sorted the bus then travelled about 50 metres before being confronted by incoming cars (the road is very
narrow & curved, so incoming & outgoing traffic don’t see each other til the bumpers almost touch.) The
incomers had to reverse uphill, on curves, to find parking spaces to fit in, & one young woman had a lot of
difficulty. She finally got tucked into the cliff-face tightly enough to let the bus through & we were at last
ready for the ascent to San Bernadino. John had his pants on by now, too. 6. The bus ride was hair-raising.
I was right at the back on the passenger side & felt that we were going about 80ks/hour around hairpin
bends, with the terraces pitching down to the sea hundreds of feet below, inches from the bus wheels.
Shades of the Amalfi Coast (see Wednesday 18/4/07) but the bus was smaller & more racketty & I
didn’t have complete confidence in the driver since he had already tried to kill us at the bus-stop by
backing over us, despite loud protestations from the potential victims & the other bus-driver. However we
got to San Bernadino in one piece, or at least quite near, as we asked him to let us off where sentiero 7
crossed the road so we could walk down to Corniglia. 7. The track markers ran true to form & we

129
wandered off route almost straight away, ending up in a pine forest above the Santuario & making our
way gingerly down. Since the track marker next appeared on the corner of the chiesa we were unsure how
to proceed. John spotted a track going down & asked a senora reading a book in her garden if it was the
track to Corniglia. She spoke some English (she learnt it she told me from her son’s school textbook) &
said that the track had been used in the last couple of days but she thought it was not the official one &
could be dangerous. John sprinted off to check it out, & she marvelled at what a quick walker he was &
attributed it to his strong legs & slim build (& she hadnt even seen him in his underpants at Vernazza!). He
returned with the news that it could be too difficult (for me, not him), so she suggested an alternate way,
which we took successfully back to Corniglia. 8. We kept meeting Australians – from Balwyn, Armidale,
South Melbourne & Broome - & they were just the ones we spoke to. We could hear Oz accents all the time
– it seems to be true that Aussies are keen travellers. I bet none of them have walked down the main
street of Vernazza at 2.30 in the afternoon in their underpants though.  wok 4 ☼ z uzhulidoo
wthr felnv fulns nth chst & rerlzd m woz la orn 2kep gon.  d2 chek mi puls & @ ist
kood fndt nth rist & wn  dd twoz vri fe.    mt n & gav thankthank 4 thgood lf
v had & 4 thgood♀ (H) v had, thn 4 mi chldrn & thn 4 me ss ss & par par & wn 
rerlzd mi thankuu wr ge10 owtv  gav thankthank 4 orlth v non & 4 thO 12t 2
rmaz mi & 4 havn n protktd  th vre shnzm (11/5/09. tho sum mt dsput thklam givn m
ha t vr n10 p kostkost).  mahv n nflunst  th H tookv mi nbarga ( Saturday
2/5/09) wr m  kam owt u - th v. Ma twoz r k vth or korzd  th ri fadnowt t
  thposti vr o. Niwa m stl h &  zu  so prapprap twozr drm (15/8/10. twoo t-
nt 4 lrst mi w zerk rgan lk rniml s ugln 2get owtv r twoo apt10. 4 a fu mott
mi chst shook wth ths ugl.(17/8/10. 4 gon erlir nth nt  hd n othrd  mnr
chst pan.)). L8r   th koon & l8r rgan rtom td y n & th 1st ☼ woz r 8n throom. @
7am varius  wr ♪♫ & thman corniglia  ♪♫ rO 30 . Th@ woz thQ 4 thjer nxt dor bhnd
thworl 2  & & 4 thrstv th 2 - t H woz nr dp slep 4 @lst rnuthr howr.
17/5/09. €4.80 (biglietti (x4)) + €4.20 (capucci & rioche (x2)) + €0.58 (chinotto
x2) +€2.25 (spuntino x2) + €350 (7 x €50 B&B Locanda Alambra pad nm VISA (so H owow mi
€330)) + €10 (spuntino & acciughe 4 2nt) + €1.00 ( - Michael & Ben oth OK rkordn2 Joe;
K8t n 2 wen Elliot;  ) + €0.99 (yoghurt 4 H) + €2.00 (cipolla focaccia) + €5.00 (
macchiato, capucci, limoncello nth Piazza San Lorenzo) = €381. Lrst wek O = €575.
Yesterday evening we strolled in the Porto Antico & discovered an exhibition of sports – fencing, karate &
kendo - & an excellent comedic musical brass quartet who were fantastic musos & very funny (even in
Italian). This morning we took the no.15bus to Nervi, the seaside suburb of Genova where the parks
(former gardens of 3 villas) contained squirrels & roses of rare beauty & abundance. John had a swim in
his Vernazza ‘bathers’ (see Sunday 10/5/09) & we walked along the Passegiata Anita Garibaldi (10/8/09.
“Ana Maria de Jesus Ribeiro da Silva di Garibaldi, best known as Anita Garibaldi (August 30, 1821 – August 4, 1849) was the
Brazilian wife and comrade-in-arms of Italian revolutionary Giuseppe Garibaldi. Their partnership epitomized the spirit of the 19th
century's age of romanticism and revolutionary liberalism.….Anita joined her husband in the defense of Rome, which fell to a French
siege on June 30. She then fled from French and Austrian troops with the Garibaldian Legion. Pregnant and sick, she died on August
4, 1849 at 7:45 pm in the arms of her husband at Guiccioli Farm in Mandriole, near Ravenna, Italy, during the tragic retreat. Anita
remained a presence in Garibaldi's heart for the rest of his life. It was perhaps with her memory in mind that, while traveling in Peru
in the early 1850s, he sought out the exiled and destitute Manuela Sáenz, the fabled companion of Simón Bolívar. Years later, in
1860, when Garibaldi rode out to Teano to hail Victor Emanuel II as king of a united Italy, he wore Anita's striped scarf over his gray
South American poncho.” Wikipedia) admiring the rocky coast & clear water. Back in town, after showers &
shave, we paid our final visit to the Centro Storico to get piccolini pisce for tea & to people-watch at a bar
in the Via di San Lorenzo, opposite the cathedral, where 2 dog incidents made our day. A busker dressed
in a white robe & a Venetian mask was being a statue with his small dog at his feet. A couple with a little
girl stopped to admire him & the dog, probably bored witless at having been still for so long, jumped all
over the kid, tipped over the collection box & did a runner into the bar where we were sitting. The busker
had to apologize profusely, disrobe, run after the dog & then collect all the scattered money (lots of it too
– I think “busker standing stockstill for long periods” is a new phenomenon in Italy). Then a puppet show
for little kids was set up which drew a small crowd, including a man with a pomeranian on a leash & a
woman with a miniature poodle, also tethered. I’ve noticed that Italians like to let their dogs get
acquainted (an extension of their own sociability) but the poodle was seriously randy & started humping
the pomeranian with zeal. Neither dog owner turned a hair & continued to chat as the erotic display got
more & more frenzied. The exertions only stopped when the pomeranian got tired of the assault &
rounded on the poodle, giving it a good hiding. As we left the Via di San Lorenzo we could hear singing
near Piazza de Ferrari, so went to look. It was the supporters of Genova Football Club celebrating a win

130
with much flag-waving, chanting, horn-blowing, applause & general joy. One guy had thrown himself into
the fontana. The festivities continued as we ate our dinner on the terrace – a big crowd led by Vespa
drivers circling on their bikes marched up Via XX Settembre with smoke machines, various flags (a Union
Jack as well as an E.U. one alongside a wide variety of Genovese banners) & lots of singing, going to join
the crowd already gathered in Piazza di Ferrari. Then they all marched back again, presumably to the club-
rooms. A great time was had by all. Pity about the Pies, who’ve lost the last 2 games & have a bunch of
injuries – it’d be great to see the black & white army marching down Bourke St. in a similar fashion. Forgot
to mention there’s also a Genoa Cricket Club here – wonder how that came about. (10/8/09. “Genoa Cricket
and Football Club, commonly referred to as simply Genoa, is an Italian professional football club based in the city of Genoa,
Liguria. Although the athletics and cricket club was founded in 1893 by Englishmen as a British sporting club abroad, whose
membership was allowed to British citizens exclusively; the footballing section of the club was opened in 1897 by James Richardson
Spensley making it the oldest of its kind still active in Italy. During their long history, Genoa have won the Italian Football
Championship nine times. Genoa's first title came at the inaugural championship in 1898 and their last was in 1923–24. They also
won the Coppa Italia once. Historically, Genoa is the fourth most successful Italian club in terms of championships won….The club’s
nicknames are I rossoblu (The red-blues), Il grifone (The griffin), & Il vecchio balordo (The old fool).” Wikipedia.).

24/5/09 ( 09ri p♪♫). SF12 (€8) (  ys d:  th ) + SF6.90

(€4.61) (kremkrem nth 4shor proad nth evnn) + SF10.60 (€7.07) (capucci & cornetti
(x2) - vri ordnri & 2 fak prot cornetti @ du thpr wwr pan n lir) + SF10.33 (€6.89)
( biglietti andata Locarno per Intragna (nth Centovallina) (x2) – ie 19 ut p) + SF160
(€107) (affita camera 4 2ntnt) = €137. Lrst wekwek O = €785 (owr most xv wek  €200
(takn n2 r t th nkorekt r8v xchanj v n uzn)). We are settled in at Intragna in a double room with
ensuite provided by the “Osteria Centrale, proprietors Di Andrea e Dalila Trinca, 6655 Intagna, tel 091 796 12 84,
osteria.centrale@hotmail.com, domenica e lunedi chiuso”. Intragna is a lovely little town with many houses roofed
with the stone slabs typical of the Centovalli, & intricate narrow lanes. We started walking about 12, taking
a direction more or less at random, & chose Loca as our destination, about 2 hours away according to the
sentiero signs. The track was excellently maintained, paved with slabs of stone, & wound up to the bridge
which crosses a gorge containing the headwaters of a river which flows into the Maggia. We didn’t quite
make it up to Loco, the village we can see from Intragna, but the bridge over the gorge was impressive &
the river itself was wild & dropping steeply down. A sign at the bridge warned that the water level could
rise unexpectedly at any time due to the needs of the hydro-electric power station further up. It was a
beautiful walk through shady woods, with many shrines & little water fontana along the way. We met a
Swiss couple who have just moved from rainy German Switzerland to sunny Italian Switzerland (Locarno)
who recommended some smaller towns – Appenzell & St. Galen – as good places to stay. The Engedine
Valley was also mentioned, so now we have a direction to move in when we leave here. Despite Swiss
prices we are still within our budget & find it easy to live without 5-star hotels & restaurants. Last night in
Locarno we had an evening stroll along the foreshore again – there is a grove of 4 enormous plane trees,
as big as old river red-gums, just near the Largo Zorzi & at intervals there is a lovely light green conifer
actually growing in the water like a mangrove, with aerial roots. My capacity for walking on the flat is
pretty good – I can go indefinitely given rest stops & mild temperatures – but my hill walking is very
dubious – I need many rests as I seem to overheat really quickly. Luckily there are plenty of watering
points (on today’s walk at least) so there’s no need to carry water. Going up tests my thigh muscles (what
there is of them) & going down tests my knees. My hip complains whether its flat or steep so that doesn’t
count. Today I woke up with a slightly sore back (I must have slept crooked) so that didn’t help, as sitting
was painful too. I keep hoping my muscles will acclimatize, but they must be slow learners. I regret my
mis-spent youth sitting around studying & reading when I should have been jogging, dancing, doing yoga
2da 4  w 8
& lifting weights. Too late now though. (4maggio) & (salametto) nm kas
wosht wth VINO ROSSO a tavola. Thez nmlnml rdoon mi good   zon owr 4 th 1st  onth
p  woz feln nm . Uthr kon u10 faktrfaktr ma konrn, r tv x fi10s, - orzt
rdrnrln korzd  th vuvu? We have just been serenaded by the bells of the campanile right next to our
room, playing a symphony in 4 movements, ending with a rather nice “dying fall” – began at 8, now
8.10pm. We had a bell in Locarno too, but nowhere has there been one comparable to that in Maiori on
the Amalfi Coast (see Tuesday 24/4/07) in 2007.
31/5/09. SF9.70 (€6.47) (dunkel bier & Rivella @th Schwellbrunn gasthaus ie O =
€6.47. Lrst wekwek O = €630. After a nice breakfast of modest proportions (more Italian than Swiss – 2
cornetti each, a big pot of coffee & a jug of hot milk) we began our Wanderweg about 10am & strolled
through tiny villages to larger centres (Nieschberg & Schwellbrünn where we stopped for a drink – a neat
little place with a very austere reformed church, a public toilet & a weather station – barometer steady,
temperature 20°) along a series of wegs back to Herisau at 5.30pm. On the way we met: Rita, a woman
from Zurich whose company we enjoyed for a stretch of the walk; friendly cows whose bells are a constant
& delightful background music to all walks; a pair of smiling goats to whom John fed some grasses they
didn’t have in their patch; a very large woolly dog whose size was matched by a placid demeanour; a
young man in Schwellbrünn who recommended a dark (dunkel) beer which John enjoyed at the local pub –

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a snug, low-ceilinged bar on the 1st floor of a building in the main street; a woman who intends to walk to
Spain with her husband & then do the pilgrimage to Compostella (2000+ Ks!!) & many strollers, walkers,
joggers, runners of all ages enjoying the sunshine & panoramas that unfold all along the wegs. We have
booked another night at The Lion & planned another walk for tomorrow as the rolling hills & moderate
gradients suit both our physical needs & abilities & are soothing to the psyche as well. The COOP is closed
tomorrow (another long weekend) so we will have to buy a meal. The town is as good as empty, though
the bar of The Lion is busy – there are a few Portuguese here with children in tow. We both slept well last
night – the residents here are very quiet & at breakfast there were 2 other couples who had stayed the
night. It may be downmarket but its very central & we are quite satisfied. Therther r sstmv smorl ylo
snsn 2 ndk8 th  wch konkt  vth dd kt (&t ma so 4 thOv ). Tmtm orl th
rkonektd  thWEGWEG zwlz  rodrod. Nth vech  zr pol wth 1212v thethe ylo ndorndor
shon thn dd10ashndd10ashn & how longt taktak 2 m. Tmentmen thrthr rv  provd
nunlmitd nov vairiashnvairiashn 4  ech . U s 8 owtv th lt  2 thvvid grn paschr zf
ovr r drorn nth grO & u r n 1  d 2 thnxt1. Th prschr zfulv flowrflowr & thsmlv ♂ur ku♂♂
 th brn brn zlk nachrnachr  k. 2da z☼d so thchrch  wr toln korln th US 2pra 4 th
snrsnr - t  prfr th♪♫ vth  (& &  2) r orlwaorlwa nth bakgO. Tznt 2rst
cunt t thrr i zth 2  nth cunt sd rlong thr superi snd WEGWEG &
thethe rth nn n Robert Walser d 2doo long rn thlrst ⅓v ♂♂ lf on ♂♂ dali
ow10ow10  THE ASYLUM hnHERISAU.
7/6/09 (jeri09ri p♪♫). €5.60 (weiss  & lmnad) + €6.00 (tt  Breitach
Klamm) + €5.00 (tt Walserschanz  Oberstdorf ( woz run) + €4.00 ( avrin stl
urgr urgr (x2)) + €7.40 (frstfood ) + €3.00 ( urgr) +€8.60 (weiss , , ) =
€39.60. The weather was much improved today so after breakfast (bread, butter, mortadella, jams, an
egg each, coffee) we headed across the stream (the Stillach) into the foothills up to the Freibergsee, the
lake John remembers his father photographing the family at in 1948 when John was recovering from TB
here with a regimen of goats’ milk & fresh mountain air. From there we strolled through the forest towards
the Sollereckbahn (cable-car line up to Sollereck, 1706m.) bottom station & on towards the Breitach
Klamm (a gorge on the Breitach River), through the gorge (paid entry - €3 each) & up to Walserschanz
where we caught the bus back to Oberstdorf to avoid a sudden downpour (thunder, lightning & hail). We
met a couple from Augsburg who spoke good English & with whom we chatted while they had lunch at a
gasthof on our route – they recommended a town in Austria called Hallstatt & an area called Bad Aussee
as interesting & beautiful. At the gorge we came across an Australian woman from East Ivanhoe (27/11/09.
met her in the lift at Warringal Village shopping centre today, but even more startling was the fact that
she turns out to be the mother of Michael’s best friend at High School! I often complain that I never
experience the sort of coincidences John has as a matter of routine, but now I’ve had a doozy. Today Joe &
Katie’s 2nd baby arrived 2 months premature, but doing fine – a brother for Elliot) who is visiting her
daughter & her family – the son-in-law is an Aussie working for Bosch & living in Sonthofen. The walks here
are a cross between those in Intragna & the Swiss wanderwegs; there were some steep patches today but
I coped quite well. The gorge was spectacular with sheer rock walls & the river roaring below. There is a lot
of water here – wish some of it was in Melbourne! The shops here are full of beautiful things – jewellery,
handicrafts & wood carvings, & lots of Bayern (Bavarian) dirndls, lederhosen & traditional hats with their
decorations of feathers, brushes & silver brooches. John photographed 2 newts (19/8/09. Actually
salamanders: “The jet-black alpine salamander (S. atra) reaches a length of 5 to 6 inches. As the name indicates, they inhabit
mountainous regions. In this species, mating takes place on land as well, but there is no special mating season. Rather, mating occurs
during the whole activity season, which can be quite short for high mountain populations. [They are found at] altitudes above
700 meters. Their life expectancy is at least ten years. It is an ovoviviparous amphibian, giving birth to two live young. Generally, at
altitudes of 650-1,000 metres, a pregnancy lasts 2 years, and at altitudes of 1,400 to 1,700 metres, the pregnancy lasts 3 years.”
(Google)) wrestling on a path along the Stillach – jet black, lizard-like critters the size of an index finger with
feet designed for swimming. I took some photos of John on the lake shore, but we had to manoeuvre the
large & intrusive ski-jump tower out of the picture as it spoilt his recollections of the uninterrupted natural
skyline his father captured 61 years ago. We’ve decided not to go up the Fellhorn – there are enough
walking paths to explore & we have had the experience anyway in Austria in 2007. There is a Nordic
walking track here – people walk briskly with 2 metal sticks on set paths, when they could just as easily
walk briskly without them on any other paths. It’s a bit weird. John heard cow bells at about 6am when the
cows housed in the barn attached to our B&B were taken (took themselves?) out to a nearby field. We
heard them heading home along a street parallel to the one we were on as we headed into the town
centre for an evening meal. A horse in a small field among the houses was watching out for them, looking
over his fence & giving an occasional neigh of encouragement. At the gorge we saw a young couple each
with a ferret on a harness – apparently they are popular as pets in France, but not so usual in Germany. I
remember my uncle (Dad’s younger brother) had ferrets in a cage in his back yard in South Melbourne

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which he used for catching rabbits, but they were ferocious & would bite anything that came near them at
every opportunity, and they stank!
14/6/09. €1.80 (krmkrm  ys d) + €5.40 (Weiß & apfelsaft @ Hotel
Gasthof am See nth Forggensee @ gau) + €21.50 ( evnn nth Mitersee @ Badecafe rs
) = €29. Th O 4 lrst wek = €644.42. A long flat walk to Schwangau along the Lech River &
Forggensee & back again & then to the Mittersee for dinner. The day was warm & sunny & there were
many walkers & cyclists but we managed to avoid the throng for the most part by going “off track” a few
times. Consequently we saw a bee house in a secluded forest nook, a black squirrel & a beautiful glade
where we had a rest. We arrived back in Füssen to the sound of a band performing in the courtyard of St.
Mang, so had an hour’s entertainment to conclude our stay here. It was a brass, percussion & wind-
instrument orchestra playing mainly Bavarian music & 2 young ladies in traditional dirndl, blouse &
waistoat were doing the rounds during breaks in the music with a barrel of schnapps offering shots from
pewter goblets for €1. The show was almost stolen by a young Japanese man sitting in a front seat next to
us, sketching (very impressively) some band members, who took up the offer of a drink, took a photo of
the girls holding one of his Godzilla toys (fished out of his carry bag) having a nip from a goblet, & then
tossed back the contents of his own with gusto. He then had to be slapped on the back by his German
neighbour on the other side to get his breath back. He continued sketching with a big smile as the band
resumed. We had a huge meal tonight incidentally – I assumed the cheap meal I chose was an entrée but
it turned out to be a big slice of the spiced ham loaf which is a staple here (22/8/09. “Leberkäse. The name
"Leberkäse" literally translates to "liver-cheese" even though in Bavaria the dish traditionally contains neither liver nor cheese. It
consists of corned beef, pork, bacon and onions and is made by grinding the ingredients very fine and then baking it as a loaf in a
bread pan until it has a crunchy brown crust. There are several ways of eating it: cut into approximately finger-thick slices, usually
served with Süßem Senf (sweet mustard) and soft pretzels or Kartoffelsalat (potato salad); one slice placed in a semmel (bread roll)
while still hot and seasoned with mustard. The result, generally called Leberkässemmel is a staple of Bavarian and Austrian fast food
restaurants; the slices can also be pan-fried ("abgebräunt", browned), in which case they are commonly accompanied by a fried egg
and German potato salad.This is a very common Biergarten dish.” - Wikipedia) with a fried egg on top, accompanied by a
mountain of chips & a bit of salad. John’s ribbs und pommes turned out to be 6 very large pork ribs also
with a mountain of chips and a bit of salad! Disgracefully we ate it all between us & washed it down with 2
drinks each. We had been commenting all day on how portly most older people are here, & how they eat
too much. Just as well we are moving on tomorrow – we’ll probably find Garmich too expensive to repeat
our gluttony of today.
21/6/09 ( r09ri p♪♫). €16.60 ( mdrvo rn r @r tlin rs nth old)
+ €2 ( 4 1owr (th1  thhotl chrjchrj 20c/mnit ie €12/owr so  off th♂ nit)) + €6 (pm:
sosjsosj mit onyn (x2) (bosna) @ hof takrwa) + €100 ( & 4 2mor ntnt @ Pension Jahn)
= €114.60. ThO 4lrst wek: €753. Found the bus-stop for Berchtesgaden which we thought we’d be using
tomorrow as the weather was fine when we woke up this morning, & set off for the Kapuzinerberg (earliest
human settlements on the eastern slope of Kapuzinerberg date back to the neolithic period), one of the 4
bergs in the metropolitan area, islands of greenery rising above the city. We’d just got started when
ominous clouds appeared, the temperature dropped & it began to drizzle. All the wegs lead to an old
schloss (Franziskischlossl) which crowns the hill & now serves as a restaurant. The berg is covered with
deciduous forest & has a small colony of 10-12 chamois. They keep to themselves on the steeper & cooler
northern side, so we didn’t see them but realized that the 2 “goats” we’d seen while walking near Vils (see
Saturday 13/6/09) were actually chamois, from the photos on the info board on the berg. The lower end of
the berg near the river is dominated by the Kapuzinerkloster (built 1599-1605 on the site of a medieval
fortress) & church. Two prehistoric settlements on site of the cloister date back to 1000 B.C.. The berg is
partly ringed by the remains of a wall with watch towers built sometime around the time of the 30 Years
War (1618-1648) & a homeless man has claimed one of the towers as a living space, filling it with a bed &
his other stuff. We also checked out St. Sebastian’s Kirche where Paracelsus has his tomb (with the
inscription: “Here lies Philippus Theophrastus, Doctor of Medicine of great renown, whose art most wonderfully healed even the
most terrible wounds, leprosy, podagra, dropsy, and other seemingly incurable diseases; and who honooured himself by having all his
possessions distributed among the poor. He passed from life to death on September 24 in the year 1541.”). Mozart’s father &
wife are also buried here, in the cemetery done in the Italian style (though more modest & restrained). We
crossed the Mozartsteg (footbridge) into the Old Town & stopped for a nice Italian meal (garlic soup, pizza
Napoletana) at a small taverna when it began to hail. We investigated 2 shops, one specializing in
Christmas decorations, the other in Easter eggs & rabbits – there were floors of every design & material.
We passed an internet point charging an outrageous price & John became desperate to move on to
Berchtesgaden as he cant bear being among people who buy junk & are willing to be fleeced by greedy
internet providers. I’ve persuaded him to wait until Tuesday because arriving in a new place in cold wet
weather where you may have to walk unknown distances in the rain to new lodgings is not fun. We’ve
done it twice already (at Oberstdorf & in Füssen) & twice is enough. There are still things to see here – the
Mönchsberg has walks & there are a few parks & an abbey we haven’t investigated. Tonight we are going
to a free Haydn concert in one of the churches in the Old Town, presumably with a better class of people.
PS. The chamois colony started with a single male who somehow found his way onto the berg & lived for 4
years in celibacy (like the Kapuziner) until the city fathers took pity on him & introduced a female. PPS.

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John reckons the homeless man can’t be removed from his watch-tower room as he is living more like St.
Francis than the Capuchins are.
28/6/09. Tz n rgan - nnt 2 sta ndordor & +2 m ♪♫  frd 19/6/09.
William BlakeBlake GOD n♂♂ pan10pan10 hz  , & .  2 hvhd nxpri (
Monday 4/12/00) rf   2sum1 th@t konvnstmi GOD hd r4m. Howvr thxpri dd
konsstv ethr rl or niv thuthr majr snssns. Tmm th@n choozn ndntt w prfr
owrslvowrslv z olojkl n n  orlll & pant owr GOD nowrown mj. R ▲ mt konv ♂m zr j ▲
(Pascal); r d zr j d (a…z). t thrr uthr postt! Snsn thmerjnthmernjnv owrslvowrslv zn
 wehv chanjd z olojkl krechrkrechr t thwa w liv hz chanjd kompletli. olojkli wr 99% lk
chimpnzz t chimpchimp dont   , mak  , ,  po , wer n . Nfakt
wr ls lk chimpchimp thn chimpchimp r lk sqirlsqirl or wermwerm, or nsktnskt. Tz rmazn how owr
dvlopt hz pro ndpndntliov owr evolushnri nherit &v wot wno vth pasov olojkl
dvlopt wn selsel join n2 orgnorgn & orgnorgn n2 lrjr n n. Ttazf wv kum ndpnd v olojkl
kons - zf wr lmitd onli  thpostt aval 2us nlangwj (ie snsn, math, , lor, li chr,
flosfi, theolji etc) & whv thfantst  vwot thee mt 4 w no 4 srtan th@ prmtv  kood
posi hv majnd thlfstl & tknolgg w tak 4 g td. So w shood knsidr (4 tz konvr) wthr th po10
po10 nlangwj hv pre thberthv th olojkl prnpl – hv orlwaorlwa nthr. IN
r evid
THE BEGINNING WOZ THE WORD. Or wozt? Wozt nsssri 4 th olojkl kngdom 2rv 4 th
po10 po10 kontand nlangwj 2 fnd thr xpreshn? Lk th ov sf  prmd  long
xtnkt n n rwa10 thpostv sntnt n n nth unmajnI dst eoneon 2 prs th utn tt t.
Orth wa10 2 kist  th prinss. Or slepn ut wa10 2 kist  thprins. & prt vth eqazhn r
w? – or r oth =i nsssri lk th2 sdsd vr koin or lk JUDAS/JESUS? & w shood rlso knsidr
thmor fr10n post w mt nsssri onli 4 rshort  2 dd  lk thhuskhuskv dd wn thr
sk zkompletd. & knsidr2 th@ sum ma dd  wl uthruthr ma jujd nsssri 4n nkonv ddtni
(nlangwj? (29/609. Heidegger dd hvth nfit vmn rBlakBlak pi !)). When you are
travelling weather becomes an issue of great importance – when, where & how much it is raining
determines your day’s activities more than when you are at home. So today’s grey sky & persistent drizzle
only allowed us a couple of brief walks – one to the foreshore of Lahn (the southern end of the village –
Markt is the central & northern end) where the Badeinsel (a small island connected to the coastal strip)
would be a great swimming spot if summer actually arrives (28/8/09. Top temperature in Hallstatt today
was 27C.), & back along th Grabfeldweg which goes past the Kalvarienberg Kirche (having its roof re-
shingled in traditional wood) towards an alm about an hour further, but it was blocked by a fallen tree, the
result of a recent avalanche. John saw a deer moving swiftly uphill as we walked along it. We took more
photos, trying to catch the thick mist & the subtle light so beloved of the Romantic painters. By 10.30am it
was raining too persistently to continue walking so we retreated to our room & John wrote his entry for
today. We ventured back out by about 1pm up the Malerweg to the first stop on the Themenweg we
walked on Friday 26/6/09 intending to re-walk some of it in search of the elusive perfect photo but got
talking to 3 American brothers (Bill from Ohio, Mark from New Mexico & Chad from Illinois) who were
waiting for a lull in the rain to start the walk. We chatted for about 1½ hours about the world financial
crisis, Obama, Rome, travels to Italy & the perils of travelling in rural Lithuania when Chad revealed he is
going to Vilnius in February. By then the rain had stopped a bit & they set off. We decided to walk back
into the village for our usual routine of late arvo drinks followed by an evening meal – we accomplished
the first in the waterfront hotel where the waiter was familiar with Sydney, the Blue Mountains & the east
coast north to Cairns, but our usual eating spot was closed so we settled for a Bosna Gross (2 for him, 1 for
me) at the hot-dog stand at the entrance to town. The prices are high here for small serves so the stand
does a good trade (though his bosnas are €3.30 each compared to Salzburg’s €3). The Austrian we met
yesterday who was extolling the virtues of living in Hallstatt forgot to mention the lousy weather & the
high price of eating out. At breakfast our host showed us some photos of the construction of this house (by
his father) & of the big snow winter of 1996. He says the winter here lasts for 7 months & in this valley
(the Echerntal) there is no direct sun for a long time though the sky is often blue & clear. This is the wetter
end of the Salzkammergut (Good Salt Chamber) so we have been taken aback a bit at the constant rain
compared to the sunny days we had in Seefeld & St. Gilgen in 2007. In fact it’s been almost constantly
raining since we left Innsbruck. It would be nice to see the sun again before I leave for the Melbourne

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winter.€5.90 ( & lmn t @ pu n Hallstatter See) + €9.90 (bosna gross (x3) @ rtakrwa) =
€15.80. O 4 lrst wek = €371.
5/7/09. Tz aktli 12 wekwek snsn thtv th p. H 2 MELBOURNE & 
2 VILNIUS on d so tz rgood da 2 nd m r 10 vkostkost: €56.20 ( tt Enns  WIEN
(fowndowt 2l8 wkoodv n pan lsthn ½ pr nth ‘ezi wa ’ (ie rejnl azn  lir) sstm) + €5.60 (
(x2) @ St Valentin barnhof (chanjd ) pu ) + €7.20 ( (x2) @ Café Griensteidl,
Michaelerplatz 2
1010 Innere Stadt, Wien, Austria (30/8/09. “Once the site of one of Vienna's oldest coffeehouses and named after
the pharmacist Heinrich Griensteidl—the original dated back to 1847 but was demolished in 1897—this café was resurrected in 1990.
Karl Kraus, the sardonic critic, spent many hours here writing his feared articles, and it's also here that Hugo von Hofmannsthal took
time out from writing libretti for Richard Strauss. Although this establishment is still looking for the patina needed to give it real flair,
locals are pleased by the attempt to re-create the historic atmosphere. Numerous newspapers and magazines hang on the rack (many
are in English). It's also entirely no-smoking.” – Fodor’s review) wrw  The Times & The Daily Telegraph) +
€26.40 (pm ndenplatz ( Monday 25/6/07) + €4 ( just nHotel Post) + €8 (drnkdrnk @
☼ nth Volksgarten ( Thursday 10/8/06)) = €110.60. O 4 lrst wek = €767. Thmost v
wek woz 18/5 – 24/5 @ €785 & thchepst woz 22/6 – 28/6 @ €371. Most v rkomrdashn woz
€90/du/nt @ ROMA & thchepst woz €15/du/nt (no am) @ Enns. Avrj woz €605/wek &
norl wv spnt €7262. tt 4 th & nshur etc woz O $A6,500 t wwoodhv spnt
thsmuch @ lst onowr livn kostkost ovr th3munthmunth nMELBOURNE so m not nkludnit nth p
kost. So thO kostv th p woz O €7262 = O $A (@ 1 alin $ = €0.56 (16/8/10. 2da 1
alin $ = €0.70)) 12,900 ie O $A6540 ech.  wo kepn nr vm   n
ovr thn t munth zth stuashn thr z kompr 2 mor aflu EU.
12/7/08 ( p3). N1 wr Aistė & mi (rloo) & nthuthr wr Dalia Rumšaitė (rfrndv
Aistė) & Mečys (Aistės huz &: @th ndv thwk ♂♂ n Tajikistan 2 KORZHENEVSKAYA
PEAK (@ 7104 m m ) wl sumv thgroop k KOMUNIZM PEAK (@ 7495 m m ) (17/8/10.
go e Aistė 2da n th@ Mečys z nit ths wek) rlso non zPEAK IZMAIL SAMONI
namd rf thfa Tajik pot (3/9/09. no pot t “the father of the Tajik nation”). 2da w r
kwt nn † thrvr &  thrivr ank. How O th@!
19/7/09. 10pm  12.30am ys d 5 & 1 chl (Rapolas) dd thful PIRTI tn
nkludn orlth nn: k nakd vkorvkor;  nt rmm r how i sshnsshn nth PIRTI (sornr) ♂td 2
dr dr tmprechrtmprechr (n1 okazhn   m  wr gon2 kook & hd2  klosr
2th flor wrtwrt koolr) folod  lnthe nthdam (tz kpt kl vwed  gro vri lrj n
t 4 th perprperpr), td O rlrj stump drnkn  chee. Th tn woz reptd @ lest 6r7
&
 nkludn sshnsshn vslf flajlashn wthr erch (n )  room (VANTAS) & rfnl kompr sv
sop. Ths tookplas @r e na r ( SWEDEN) vAudrius @ hoohoo plas erlir w fild 1 lo
kontanrkontanr wth thlrstv ths obree 3v  lugd 2th  nth nr plas ag swangO
rnsetln m zwe  rlong thgravl rod nr ls nt @ O 1am. Ths mornn thr woz much thundr
&  wthowt 2much .  slept onle rfle havn e10 & d k 2much erlir. Audrio ♀ x d
thwerdwerd GEGUŽINĖ (3pm 2da) & ATLAIDAI (11am): GEGUŽINĖ zr pz sl shn nkludn ,
d n, drnkn (dont tha orlwaorlwa!) & merit (nthr thSmukskiai nor thŽvirbliai hvvr n 21 – so

 fl vri prvljd); ATLAIDAI zr yle servserv honrn th rf hoom th nth prlr vlj
(LYDUOKIAI – wr Vaido g ♀/♂ g ♀/♂ r tho nethr ♂m nor Brigita hv wtnst such nvent)
znamd. Oys, Audrius hz nvtd me & &drius 2 n wth thfamli 4 3r4 dada (pchn @ nt) 
2moro.   wl ept thofr. ThŽvirbliai () r 2nt  ☼ius☼ius 50 da. Thsalrmi tp sosj
th

 t ys d & n+ver li lft onth ta nth  woz mutl8d ovrnt, proi  r .…. m
bugrd, th vm  r zd  ys dada ovr thko gashnn (&drius wairwair gluvv,  2

135
protkt rganst stonston, pa n dakdak). oth anas (kared 1v th  ) & th e wrthr. Twoo
r - nvr falfal 2moov mi & thth woz good . Mostv thkongregashn wr  - pro rli
evre1 hooz evr hd ni konkshn wth LYDUOKIAI. Milda kam 2mi drst n♀r ☼d st, vri td n
us 2 @th GEGUŽINĖ erlir @ 2.30.  supoo wr th n nashnl sl ritt!  ned SLEEP. &drius dd
@10d thATLAIDAI t nstd t + spl 2poot nth  frdj  1vth 2 PARDUOTUVĖS (smorl vlj
shopshop) 2da wr ♪i i freov thvlrj d kd k hoo normli kongreg8 Om. Aprt th  woz
much moovd. Not lk  m  tht li 1drfl kidkid vLaila (ukin gO) & Audrius Smulskiai: wo
unch – opn, ajl, nqiztv, wlrd, konfid , rul8….GEGUŽINĖS: rme10 vth BirdBird  (-
Vaidas & famli) – ys, twoz threl thng - m nakrd.
26/7/09. &rius  VILNIUS.   th p ♪♫  p t i gstgst kep rvn so
m onli 2 wnzd. Aistė  . Miglė (♀♀ machurd) 2 KAUNAS. W (Vaidas, Brgita & mi) st& O th
tl l8. Tz kold.  slpt wl.
2/8/09. 2 m rlf Irena dd kum nok nokn nmi dor ys d evnn so  dd hv2 wore O
thpos t v†t & mbar n msst&nn. ♀ mustv stad longr @ ♀r ss ss thn ♀  ♀ wood.
Ths mornn   th @ 9.30am rf aktv8n thrlrm. ♀ hd rgoorma  wa10 & wspnt ½ thmornn
nvre plz . ♀ d 2mi 2 stan @ Aistėz mt unit (& ma m tukr woodv n fre 2!
(8/9/09. Gee, mister, can I have your autograph – Ive got Shane Warne’s & Brad Hogg’s & Stuart Macgill’s
– to put on my champion spinners’ page?))
t th ig  wr korln & h m @ In Astra wr 
tdowt nVILNIUS wn  rvd. Twoz wertht2: onr rmi orgust evnn n☼d VILNIUS zprfkt: ½ thlokll r
owtv  4 thweknd oron skool Oidaa (eg @ PALANGA wr th r r r worl2worl & go orl nt) & r mlo,
old mood  th- ept 4 t d vPilies gv. wr tmett th rki edra  zorlwaa chokr wth
2rstt. Th r nth L †  wr m stan zr prlrli good plas 2 rl wthr wet  & rservov noil wth
ld nynn & pot8opot8o. Tz wr l me10 wth Rasa K (19/11/10. relov kadbaaniala) 2moro @ 12.
@ 5.30 Rimas J z nmi 4 wot mt owt 2 Part II vth lkchr ( Friday 10/7/09).  2 rush mi
& hit th . Tz onli 9.45pm t aj z chn wthmi.
9/8/09. 2da zm lrst O da nWIEN. n .  nglsh lngwj nkaféé. Thmor of10
m nWIEN thmor th2rst ZENTRUM kumkum KITCH & thmor  gn2 rpr8 th inr er er
rO th. Tz a 40   WIEN z1vth st  2lvn nth O. Tz n rgr8 p – orlmost prfkt f hd
lost thwalet ( Monday 6/7/09). Thweklong n woz nrn pktd  . So
prhapp tz h shood y  kood nvr livn 4 rlongr  - thdptd kulchrl zm vlitlaninn
2of10  ni dskushn  @ , , & spshle @  (ud  twoz th hoo d th not
thuthrwa ). 2 of10 nthswa wot tt owt zr riys d e  2r nf l lvl. 10shor10shor litlanian
ntlkchul lf kn nvr prtsip8 @n n nashnl lvl. On 2 sepr8 okzhnn  d thUS dfst dd z
“ŽIDUKAI SPAUSDINA VALIUTA” (litl  r prn10 ) 2 th knomk kree.
Ths woz gvn  rl@vli nyr govt o ll & rprt th p zm tmpl rprofownd msst&nv
knomk prnpll. US guvt i d skrpt zsold nth opn mrkt (16/11/10. nologr now th@ th
USvA Fedd nit) &zth most sor f Qrit ovlrst reeort nth - tz y th , & ar ar
rorlwaa nt.  supoo th zm zkorzd  th h l thretthret nrd  litlaninn 2 thr st
zr spr8 kulchrl & lngws ntt. Ma tz st&r tt DOOMDOOM m 2th mrjnn vntlkchul lf.  fndt
rn 
ept , stfln & evnchurle un airr 
(10/9/09. for one breathless moment there I thought you
were going to say its because you would miss me – but alas, as always with intellectuals, the life of the
mind takes precedence.).…  Donau Kanal…. M n Likimo Blaškomi. Thsz n verzhn
vElena’s Journey t du thlnth. 1,500 kopp ovt wr pusht n1998 nVILNIUS @ m mummum on
 &t kn fownd nsum l ree n . ISBN 9986–9246–0–X. Lk Elena’s Journey tz dd z

136
fakshn.  1t 2chk how m mum d m frthrfrthr wrOwrO nth 2nd ½ v1941. Tz m   4 th
p  MELBOURNE.
25/4/10 (). ZAC da -  wOZ nth MacDonnell
onths da 2 yrGO ORlso ( Friday 25/4/08). Tmenn vs rr nr
BIG GAME - GO @ th 2 t. Othrw tt r da 4 rflkshn @ owr

rt  owr at 4 SELF DELUZioN. 9am & m  …. @

2.15 GD  m n nl  just n 4 th t  t thgam tt ½ nowr
l8 & v  th off KOrr  2 2th ZAC (OZe, OZe, OZe, Oi, Oi,
Oi) sermoni 4  (evn werr thnth rlijus 11). Th ll n INARLANGA PASS r fulv kl H O 2

& thrr nm 2 5” zthik zyor . Thee ll r dr 4 i y@r- how DOO th

getthr ? r v Painted Finch (Emblema pictum) sHOwd no fvmi. Hd m

1st propr wosh vth p,  wosht ,  hAZr rip nt.  Let Me Tell
U: th  43
r ledn  rr r t 2 th 1 ¼ …. Ha! th st

gavm r akn – th@t th kndv ZAC  lk! (Serpentine Chalet Dam).

2/5/10. Woodlands  @ Redlands Gorge 8.15 (rf am).
rr, ORl 55+ vyr – @ www.scribd.com, how men, how s , how s d v

KOm nold aj! Plee pt m SINr rpologg 4 ys dAZ owt errt (OR DOO u pre
‘rpologee’ ): SORRY, SORRY, SORRY (9/6/10. never mind them – they can switch you off by pressing
a button. I have to type it AND listen to it on a daily basis! (& I don’t get to escape to the golf course.)) t

t v nvr n10 2aj g fli. (9/6/10. but aging crankily & curmugeonishly (10/6/10.

@ werd) full of piss & vinegar is so unattractive!) Knu ndrst& how frus
th 810 tt wn evri

ym 4st 2 d mORmOR vm lmitd nrg & @10shn & d shn mmri onmi

FIZkl shORtKO z ? How prakl we old KOm! – NAPRO SIN1000 4 10DONITIS;

MULTIFIT 4 ; SOMAC 4 AESOPHAGITIS; PERINDOPRIL/INDAPAMIDE 4 UD
PRSHR (nMELBOURNE m ORlwAZ mzhr wthmi OMRON). Evri    2tak r 
hv2 takoff mi 2gt mi  owt so  kn  th ddpla. Evri   go4 r nr l v
GOt2 put mi pluggn & u  uuv GOt pro mm. Wl m sORi, sORi, sORi rgn! (9/6/10.
Pardon, Basil? I haven’t got my hearing aid turned up. (9/6/10. Fawlty Towers zm favrt sHO

 Basill m ♂ro!)). l fel much thsrvo t fth  th

….  pr n   2 s oln & much pr oth 2r sted pAZ nr  z

wOZ DOOn ys d nth no 11 SEXshn vth Larapinta Trail. 2da  2k m lrrt o

137
 j, r vsmOKt sp nHOt chli sORr, 1 le vH2O, & 4 th1st  nth p 2k owt

m supr v 8x42 Leica 2GO n & DOO rv 10: Slaty-backed

Thornbill (Acanthiza robustirostris), rair , r1st 4mi & r v ID ifi ion;

Weebill (Smircrornis brevirostris); th mli numerrr Zebra Finch (Taeniopygia guttata) 
Budgerigar (Melopsittacus undulatus); Rufous Whistler (Pachycephala rufiventris); r v ns10

Western Bowerbird (Chlamydera guttata); @ 

   r v Splendid -wren (Malurus
splendens); Black-faced Cuckoo-shrike (Coracina novaehollandiae); White-winged Triller (Lalage
tricolor) nnon bredn ; Crested  (Ocyphaps lophotes); Spinifex 
(Geophaps plumifera); & the vri r und ◊ (Geopelia cuneata); & hv shnd atiel

(Nymphicus hollandicus) v n n 4r fu dAZ; Bee-eater (Merops ornatus);

Striated Pardalote (Pardalotus striatus); Brown r (Lichmera indistincta) zth KO

r nflOWrn mulga wth mslto; Hooded Robin (Melanodryas cucullata); r  vGrey-
crowned Babbler (Pomatostomus temporalis); Grey Shrike-thrush (Colluricincla harmonica); &
th vri rgrsv Willie Wagtail (Rhipidura leucophrys); & rt now th t lin

(Gymnorhina tibicen) z th nth 3rd ¼ …. Yair! - 

: 23.11/16.6 …. Onr  vth  @ dusk GOt Allison & Stuart Allen m d
met @ thgORj ys d. Tso t sprr, ♂pp ORlovr th & hAZ spnt 3
, Stuart vll

wekk nPALERMO nr p & ♂♂ rrap 4 thplaa - odd wl 4owr pn t y. ♂

ORlso  Stromboli (&  l&d) zr must.  gavm m www.scribd.com d & ♂♂
d : “Southern Homeless Network ¶ southernhomeless network@blogspot.com ¶ Stuart
Allen Director ¶ Bh: 041 222 0596 ¶ P.O. Box 524 ¶ Elsternwick VIC 3185 ¶
cavorca@yahoo.com”. ♂ d ♂♂ ORgnashn zr “small ethical business.” ♂ klamm
2hv SUXsfrli d 40 .   ♂m d put ♂♂ prulrr nth  & d paj
♂m wn Sunday zpu sht, HOpfrli, n t y. Nd li v hd r tvr gut pro
m ORl da (& stl hvt) so m r t wek. Slepwl.
9/5/10. Glen Helen Gorge 2rrt reeORt am  . Dd  no2 †

thgORj 2th rthr sd: wn hAZ rvd erli & thH2O zGOnr 2KOld: wr g10 2˚c mORnnn

& thgORj zn shad. Wn  wOZ h2yrGO twOZ stl hot @ths 

. So  fnsh m
ut 2th most u ♀ nth  &   Ormiston Gorge ….  (15 rso kk
fl )  ….
10kk  Hilltop Lookout &  Ghost Gum . Hd rdp &  @ dd vd

thrrr rHOt hso  hd1. m r t wek 2da - proi ned r dav R&R – ma  2
Glen Helen Resort 2moro mORnn 4r v & . N d li thrrr rair nml h: th

138
@raktvli namd Central Rock- (Zyzomys pedunculatus) hd n  n sns 1960 tlt
wOZ dd vd rgn n1996. v rlso n n th u fl Long-nosed (Lophognathus
longirostris) wth th rt ylo s pp th sdd ovr thlrrt 2 wekk: thaz rvri long tal & kn
ontt hnd l .
16/5/10. Erldunda (Konsdrn thpr ($10/ /nt) u get plnt vsrvvz @ thee
plaAZ)   (ntd r  thhwa O 70kk 4 Kings Canyon t rsn : “A
iginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 1976 ¶ A IGINAL FREEHOLD LAND
¶ NO ENTRY ¶ PENALTY $1000 ¶ ENQUIRIES: PERMITS OFFICER CENTRAL LAND COUNCIL ¶
: 89 516 320 PO BOX 3321 Alice Springs 0871”; O 10kk l8r 2K r n2 thrmann vth old dert rod &
t 4 O 1½ owrr 2 folo r (2 1½ dp nplaAZ) hOpn tWOOd led  thr
H2On O t tled 2 rwd ; chkt th Kings Creek Station 2rrt reeORt 40kk

4 th Kings Canyon 1: chrgg $17/ /nt 4 NUNpowrd st – thr rgrr

smlt GOOd t!; now (2.45) m  @th Kathleen Springs da  - wl  4

r itvr  4 pm & sta 4 t t fth jrr do & th@ rmn mi:
sprng mi;

d qt rlot lrst nt @ Erldunda …. ½ + ½ nowr W rlong th Giles Track

  Black r (Certhionyx niger); thrr r sn nth H2O tank n ORl mrrt lev
thda   8pm; ½ nowr  hu kn lev th Giles Track 2 plOR thgORj & krek

fedd thKathleen  r
Springs: d lk 2DOOt 2moro …. t tt

nth n “NO CAMPING. FINES APPLY. RANGERS PATROL REGULARLY” so v

 h2 Kings Canyon. TKOstt $17/ /nt (v pad 4 2ntt ztha rpre 10
 Wnnd  S@rd.)
23/5/10. Kings Creek Station. t am v  4

$14. th onr O ust wth thHELP v & r n6 ijnl kidd &
wl n thNO 10. Th2 kIDd e10  @th  wr vri n wth m. Tha GO sKOol

nADELAIDE. 1 1tt 2 r HELLi lot  hAZ ORlraid takn 3 lsnn.

 HOp thr motvv @ lst r jnun. Tha owt r roshr ttld: “ Indigenous Kids Future Pty Ltd.

ABN 79 789 126 653 ¶ “CONWAY’S KIDS” TRUST FUND providing edu ional oppor

ities for cultural A iginal children from remote Homel&&. ¶ ABOUT THE

FOUNDERS: When Ian & Lyn Conway acquired 800,000 acres of Crown L in the Kings Canyon Area &
began their life there in 1980 it was without a home, electricity or running water. They understand the
harshness of the l   the realities of raising children where the remoteness of the area impacts

139
negatively on the edu ional oppor ities for young people. ¶ Ian is of Indigenous descent, his
father Mort Conway was  in Alice Springs in 1903 to an A iginal mother & a white father. He

began work at 14 & went on to become a ‘Boss Drover’ for Sid Kidman. As Ian’s mother  when he was
just two he was raised by his traditional A iginal gr mother. His grfather (William Liddle) was
one of the first white pastoralists in the Kings Canyon area. Lyn was an office worker from Adelaide when
she met Ian & together they have created Kings Creek Station – a successful station & tourist

haven in a sometimes harsh & unforgiving environm . ¶ Ian & Lyn are passionate about Indigenous i

& regularly advo e for the local Indigenous communities. What began as a vision for the

children from ‘Ukaka’ homel  now en es all the cultural A iginal Children residing in the

locale. Ian, Lyn & their team are determined, resourceful & e . ¶ The Vision: to ensure

‘cultural’ A iginal children from remote homel  have the same edu ional

oppor ities as the children of wider Australia. ¶ Why Edu ion?: Research shows

that only th Edu ion and exposure to wider life experi and oppor ities
will these youth be in a position to fulfil their po10 and to create change in their
communities. ¶ We seek to empower young people to reach their full po10 by 

providing placem in quality, innovative & responsive edu ion establishm

in major Australin cities (at this stage Adelaide)  raising awareness of dis+ tage

in edu ional oppor ities of remote youth th our +vocacy to governm and

the community  enabling ess to oppor ities for better edu ion, support,
health and independ in a caring and non-judgmental environm . ¶ Why
Adelaide?: Adelaide is easily essi via , road or , yet su ly dist
to be free of the cultural, so and family i which often impinge on regular
school attend . ¶ How are we achieving this vision?: Th the generousity of
many individuals and organizations, youth from the Kings Canyon area are being linked
to Secondary Schools in metropolitan areas. § In 2008, Westminster School and Prince
Alfred College (Adelaide) opened their doors to 4 young people from Ukaka community,
& in 2009, two more children commenced their schooling in Adelaide. § The Conway

Kids Trust aims to fund oppor ities for a further twenty indigenous children to attend
Secondary Schools in Adelaide within 5 years. ¶ “I think my life is changing. I didn’t
know about knife, or fork or plate …. We starting a new circle. If we stay in the old circle
we’ll be like all our family back home. Kids cant get jobs and we’ll get Centrelink and
just get d k and fight and go to jail. I want to be a lawyer and then a judge. I want my

kids to be edu ed like me because they can follow my circle.” Christopher (14 years).

¶ Can you ist the CONWAY’S KIDS Trust Fund? ¶ Conway’s Kids is a registered Trust
Fund with t deductible gift recipi status. Donations can be made direct to
140
“Conway’s Kids Trust Fund” National alia Bank: a 83-046-5667 BSB
085-995 B ch: 52 -53 Todd Street, Alice Springs 0872. Or by Cheque/$$$ Order
paya to Conway’s Kids Trust Fund c/o Kings Creek Station, PMB 164, Alice Springs.

N.T. alia 0872. Tele: (08) 8956 7474 Fax: (08) 8956 7468 Website:
www.conwayskids.org.au Contact: Ian & Lyn Conway can be contacted th :
info@kingscreekstation.com.au (&  Southern Homeless Network @ Sunday
2/5/10) ….   2 (100kk Ev Kings Canyon   2@@ch powr nvr

 chrjr & m wOZ nth .  sercht vriwr & wn  wOZ shOR d lostt
 td  Kathleen Springs KOrr twOZ nth Giles n Track  lrst

muktO nth wn  hdr r nr l. Rf  3kk  rerld mi

wOZ nth H2O kvr nth f t pasnjr flOR wr  nORmli pt wn t nth so m @@chn

th chrjr rgn!)   (puldoff  4r it 2nold grvl stORj &s 8rwa 

rBourke’s Parrot (Neopsephotus bourkii) k )   m O 145kk owtv

Kings Canyon rfu 100yrdd onr Oi dduud  GOO 4vr. Th wind hAZ sKOoptowt

OO 2 r me dp wr th sr vth  hAZ rokn.   W 4 2owrr. 7 alian

Bustard (Ardeotis australis) t th ig thrl wOZ 2 4 wld . Unlk th 11 liv

n  suchAZ th11 O Kings Canyon thee wr sh: tha @ mi kairfli  otd

rwa. Thrr r ig wnd owtsd & 1drn O -  1t 2 h2nt t mt 442

4thwa. Tt 3.30pm t m skaird 2lev th nkaav …. Justt  hd ORl mi pm

gset  wOZ KOrt X r hvi so now m dfnitli h4 2nt. HOpfrli th wl dr

th 2moro;  d r du ; m g10 mli sntd 2th HOri tastv

luminium d gtt n2 mi   th TrangIA KOokr – must rmmbr 2x rstanls stel 1 wn

m n MELBOURNE. Thsz so much t n nr 2rrt .
30/5/10. Stuart Highway (O 40kk Nv Glendambo).  

(nvstg8n sd )  Glendambo (p l)  (@  25kk S W rlong  O

1k t 2owrr W)  ( sd  & hdr  l8rvo +wr twnLake Hart &
Pimba)   Woomera (@OMIK  , , joi OZ/UsvA  krt dfnn falit,
rfug d10shn , r gne thron stik; KOrt wth  I GA  stud : 12 Architecture

(9) & Lscape Architecture (3) DOOn rPostGr+ Masters KOrr (100 vd/y. Ths
su jkt zKOrld 702505 Travelling Studio: Painted Landscape Easel &&

141
wrth 25 )  sdd  zled X KEdSaMnIiNu (rttt) &
VAIČlIiUnLaEsVIČIUS (feld s ). W prtd tl rf mdnt.  wOZ vri vd x thnaev
nthuueAZm  dter ashn v+vth stud g p 2evad th tatOR vth NOrm.

Thnamm vth stud  wth r: (emWeIrSaEld ( Dain  pee);

dSeIeM-MaOnNnS ( TAZze); RE DtD (ALICE SPRINGS); BjOuLsTtOiNn (
); tYiOaUn ( )).

12/9/10 ( ). Dark skies prevented us from walking along the track this
morning so we proceeded on to Coober Pedy, stopping briefly to inspect more patches of Sturt’s Desert
Pea along the way (see www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098213729/). Shopped up in Coober (petrol, water
@ 20c/30 litres, bread, onion, postcards & stamps) & then had coffee, chips & pizza at John’s Pizza
Restaurant in a leisurely fashion as the weather was cold & there were a few light showers. We are now in
a great spot on Pootnoura Creek (mainly dry, but a few pools & evidence of a small flood in the near past)
about 85ks from Coober. The rail is very close (one passing gave us a friendly toot as we were walking
after dinner) & the area has obviously been a camping spot in the past as there are many fire rings. Its not
trashed up though & the strip along the creek is quite heavily vegetated. Best of all, there are no mozzies
despite the relatively lush grass and shrubbery and the standing water in spots in the creek bed. We
came across a quandong tree (see www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098843002/) covered in ripe fruit – John
likes the taste but they are a bit bland I reckon though I collected the round, pitted seeds which are very
decorative (22/10/10. “Traditionally the Quandong was an important food source for Australian Aborigines.
Amongst male members of central Australia's Pitjantjara people, Quandongs were considered a suitable substitute
for meat - especially when hunting game was in short supply… Ripe red Quandong fruits would be eaten raw or
dried for later use… Quandongs were much valued for their medicinal properties. Specialised uses of the Quandong
included a form of tea which was drunk as a purgative. Quandong tree roots were also ground down and used as an
infusion for the treatment of rheumatism. Typically Quandong leaves were crushed and mixed with saliva to
produce a topical ointment for skin sores and boils. Encased within each Quandong seed is an oil rich kernel which
was also processed in a similar fashion to treat skin disorders. Quandong kernels could also be eaten … ” Google).
When we got back from the walk there was a red-backed kingfisher sitting on the ground near the van – it
looked sick, though not obviously injured & sat quite still while we photographed it & walked around it.
After about 15 minutes it suddenly flew up into a nearby tree. Perhaps it was a young bird which had

been a bit stunned by flying into the side of the van (see www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098312551/). G
ar of: “There are things you not measure.” Not t if we have agreed th@

measura t is an pect of what we call ‘thing’ – but t perhaps a better term 2 hav

dw ood hav n ‘objects’, or ‘tangi  things’.  hv r l 4 nouns like poe ,

, eauty, religion, m@hem@ics etc., & do leave out Love & God
v orlraid ddkust ( 9/9/10). & wot O ‘thing’ az in “the thing iz v orlraid dskustt”!
Each of thm d so many differ pects & wazv havn we evn rgre on

th dfinitions let alone practices d have 2 measure uming they r measurable

‘thingg’. Now lett + orl thee wordd 2gethr 2 1 big word – wot r rly word

142
twood ! Howd measure th @!? We could L this new difficult-2measure wORd
THINGAMAJIG/ AMACALLIT.
19/9/10. John managed 2 slices of toast with honey & 2 coffees for breakfast & wanted to go
for a test walk so we did the very short set walk along the ridge which runs around the motel end of the
resort, about 2ks, but he was so weak he had to stop at least 4 times along the way to rest, & had a
headache & some shoulder pain. At one point I noticed the veins in his forehead were standing out. I felt
very uneasy, thinking heart attack/stroke, so when we got back to the van & he retired to his bed, I
decided to suss out the medical centre just in case I needed to find it in the wee small hours. Its 800m
down the road from the reception centre & when I arrived I pressed the urgent button for the on-call nurse
as the clinic was closed. I thought I’d just ask her if she thought we had an emergency on our hands. She
didn’t like the sound of what I told her, so drove me back to the van in her ambulance vehicle & collected
John (who, when I opened the van door, had just let a stinker go. She said, as she took a rapid step
backwards, that it was a good sign) so she could give him the once over in the clinic. She found him to be
about 37% dehydrated & had trouble at the first attempt at getting a canula into a vein in his right arm as
it collapsed as soon as she put it in. The second attempt on his left arm was successful & she put him on a
1000ml saline drip to rehydrate him. She took his vital signs (B.P., pulse, temperature) & a blood test for
iron & sugar levels – all were OK. The iron level indicated that the pinkinsh tinge in his watery bowel
movements of the last 3 days, although indicative of slight bleeding, was nothing to worry about (besides
heart attacks & strokes, I had thought of a twisted or ruptured bowel, Dengue fever & assorted other life-
threatening ailments). She contacted the DMO of the Flying Doctor Service & he contacted a doctor at
Alice Springs hospital about the severe pain in the lower gut & groin area, which had diminished by
yesterday to the occasional cramping severe enough to make him double up for a short time. The A.S.
doctor thought he’d probably had a particularly nasty bout of gastro-enteritis & since his symptoms were
improving (except for the dehydration) anti-biotics were probably unnecessary. He suggested resting over
the next 2/3 days & if anything changed for the worse, to go to Alice Springs to the hospital. The nurse
emphasized the importance of keeping up fluids & eating lightly when John’s appetite returned. She then
drove us back to camp. Her name is Tracy, she comes from Melbourne (via Queensland) & has a 3 month
position as one of 2 nurses serving 5 Aboriginal settlements & the Resort. She was efficient, funny, re-
assuring & a godsend. We were at the clinic from 1-3.15pm, & it was all covered by Medicare. Back at the
van John had a cup of 2-minute noodles & a small tin of herrings in brine, & looks & feels much better, as
Tracy said he would once he had a litre of saline solution in him. I think the dehydration probably
contributed to his lack of appetite as well. We have booked a further 2 nights to ensure an easy
convalescence (the doctor said a 10 day recovery period may be needed due to the virulence of the
attack) & closeness to Tracy (more for my comfort I think – as my father used to say of someone who

wasn’t cool in a crisis: “Bloody panic merchant!”) . rerl  nOW m slO rekuvri g
O Rtt z d manli X dhd iOn AZon fr d  wOz KOnn
10 so much onth pan nmi gut & groin  Onli rmm rd 2hv 1 drnk Orl da 
twoo r . Rehd d wthth sa f orlred & hv ree
md  n The Gospel A ding to Jesus Christ X José Sa
2moro l tSt
ago.

ms nth s sHOrt  z2da &  f get  wthOWt hvn2 sit. T ma

l r t 4 th yon v ree md  r it
rm t t da.

2da & t n2 th reeOrt 4 rnuthr 2 ntt ($68) PaN  m kredt d, $34 v

H wl repa mi (19/10/10. Didn’t, haven’t).

26/9/10. Today we ROCKED! Got up early & breakfasted at the Mala carpark at Uluru. The
buses, vans, hire-cars and sedans disgorged lots of people (Japanese, Italians, French, among others)
intent on climbing up Australia’s most famous icon. Soon a steady stream of determined mountaineers of
all ages was making its way onwards & upwards, like a trail of ants, (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098856140/), though some re-thought their level of fitness at the first very

143
steep ascent & turned back. I had decided from the start that it was not my kind of turn-on, as mountain
climbing is my least favourite form of healthy exercise after marathon running. I also knew that the
traditional owners, the Anangu, didn’t want people clambering on it, as it has special significance in their
culture & is peppered with sacred sites. John had climbed it 3 times over 40 years ago, before Aboriginal
sensitivities were even known or acknowledged, & had thought to repeat it. However he too decided
against it for purely respectful reasons. We were glad we had when later we read this statement on the
information board right in front of the start of the climb:

That’s a really important sacred thing that you are climbing …

You shouldn’t climb. It’s not the real thing about this place.
The real thing is listening to everything.
This is the thing that’s right.

This is the proper way: no climbing

Kunmanara, Traditional Owner

So instead we walked around the 10.6k track to circle it – its an astonishing single piece of sandstone (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098256583/) with pools at its base & pitted with intricate caves & sculpted
into huge ripples across its walls – & met only a few small groups & individuals. One was a young German
working on developing synthetic opal for use in the electronics industry who’s based at Macquarie Uni. &
comes from Ulm, the birthplace of Albert Einstein, who took a photo of us (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098260433/). The walk was nicely furnished with shade shelters (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098258541/) & hand crafted wooden seats (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098857014/) which would fetch thousands of dollars in Melbourne. A walk
to the beautifully designed Cultural Centre completed the day’s activities – all up about 17ks as we’d
incorporated all the smaller walks connected to the Base walk. It was well worth the $25 entry fee (valid

for 3 days) to the National Park . Re shnn: We are inc d to  our sciences,

& other ations, lite ures & even werds & language as +thing outside ours

akin to a ven or n with we clothe owrs but these re shnnt p

sz are @ th very of owr ing human. We are the MASTERS

vMEANING. Amazed @ owrs & owr tal 4 ving pro  mm we

draw the conc @ po10 y we may a to

sion th ve all pro mm. But there
are + things we not possiy hope to ma. We not et te owtside the

limitations of the re tionist p s (like the ?

on Platoo cave wall ) its , nor
we viol8 (eg. with CON a tory cl s) its foundational s tures without

coming incoh  . We not with GoD! (Christian teachings th@

Jeshua vNazarth zth mbodim (“made flesh”) vGoD (a cl never made X

Jeshua hims )t ly deserves the st@us of 1 of the MYSTERIES as its in a 

of ing made compre 
i evn az a cl . f it is aposite 2
END off 2da, a da,  2wardd th END (of CH 7: Sunday, th last chapter of THE
144
WEEK) 22 th werdd  th MISHNAH  “…. ” early ( Thursday 16/8/01)

in my   d 1 vth major TropeS hv CON d 2 in4m my

OPUS since t . : “Forbidden relation must not be exed in the pres of three (people); the
work of creation must not be exed in the pres of two (people); the Chariot (merkebah, the chariot of
Ezekiel’s vision, which is the symbol of mysal knowledge) must not be exed in the pres of one, unless
he is a sage who already knows it on his own. It is better never to be born than to be someone who investigates
into the four things. The four things are: what is above; what is below; what is first; and what is after (that is,
the object of mysal knowledge, but also metaphysical knowledge, which claims to study the supernatural
origin of things).”.
3/10/10. Started the day with a spot of bird watching behind the camp, on a cattle property
where we came across some very large bullocks, complete with impressive horns, which began signalling
others that there were aliens in the vicinity by short, resonant bellows. We slipped quietly away, discretion
being the better part of valour. Came to Ormiston Gorge where we found a spot in the mini-campground
next to a Swiss couple in a European van who have sold up all in Switzerland & have travelled across
Europe & Asia. After Oz they intend to start in Canada & wend their way south to Guatamala & into South
America. They estimate they’ll be 5 or 6 years on the road all up. They are obviously well-off, have 2
childless children in their 30s who “drop in” on them as they travel, & seem quite happy. They say
Australia is quite expensive, comparable to Switzerland. As the day was very hot (35º) we only did a small
walk around the immediate gorge area, starting & finishing with a swim in the very large, deep (estimated
14m) waterhole which is the focus of tourist attention. There is a lot of water here & tiny black midges

have emerged after sunset with voracious appetites! Ydaa G D FINALE win Xth

 hd pr ulr rezrnn 4 mi vth sm  izm vit: nachr 

rlijn. Now th @ thav 1 thFINALE tt thEND vr st d (Trope!?) nmi - th

e lONgr
ned NO chr nth p . & just n
AZ m rprOchn thEND (6/11/10. “Waters close over us, a name lasts but an instant. /
Not important whether the generations hold us in memory. / Great was that chase with
the hounds for the unattainable meaning / of the world.” – Czeslaw Milosz) wth ONly

a 2s
sHOrt 4 2011, t 10 pui ion d8 (18/11/10. t hv

dd 2 i t in r f d az .) 4 Sunday, & FINALly vthO  v

- THE WEEK.

10/10/10. A couple of small strolls this morning & some track specking. We came across a
functioning windmill where 2 horses were very interested in John’s ablutions in their water trough (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098309469/) before we stopped for a lengthier walk in one of the spots we
slept in on the way up (see Saturday 11/9/10) but couldn’t explore then because of threatening weather.
Remembering the fierceness of the mozzies there, we decided not to risk tea & bed there again, so came
onto a track about 44ks north of Glendambo which is in more sandy country, rich with wattle trees with a
very small flower. They are rather ‘bonsai’ in appearance, very structural & elegant & the canopies are
covered in bloom. Like casuarinas they make ocean sounds when the wind blows through them (see
www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098912232/). During the day we saw a great spread of Sturt’s Desert Pea
along the Stuart Highway verge & once again were the only people who bothered to stop to walk among
the blooms & take photos (see www.flickr.com/photos/17271078@N02/5098917620/). All the spots we’ve stopped to
camp along the highway have only been 2-3ks distance from it & the hum of traffic is almost constant –
apart from trucks there are many, many vehicles using it & its really not so difficult for Melburnians to get
to Uluru/Alice/the Centre in ultra-quick time without resorting to plane travel – trouble is they don’t see

145
much along the way! M anal izr a mean & neg@ive n pr : dkOnn
t, dd  2 CoNnTiT
m prtt, rock th ( Thursday 22/7/04)

NOrdr2 ath rkan tt ov language (6/11/10. “Do not  out, . Enter

my dreams, . / young 4ever, seasons of the .” - Czeslaw Milosz). In

par  lar v n n td nth ‘g ar’ vth languages of religion & other

cl 2 autHOrit. The nOer trrk of re mi & perhaps th

uilding ov n li n s tures  2 m steemed rr (5 - 25 nOrl 
) mrrt an ECCE k LOt ndd ftha r pre d2 fOLO mi ths
prthOv lngws  gymn . @ leet v s@ fd m OWn k riosit – th

cl of th orTHORitt ed thr kn edge. 4 m prt  mak NO cl

ept2 nOtnOn: m th vNO 0.

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147