Up the Guts on a Greyhound

It’s 3 am in Tennant Creek, there are very pleasant feral guys talking about dogs and goats and bows and arrows.  It’s like a dream being back in Oz, mostly a very pleasant one.  But as every Australian knows the Northern Territory is like the past as observed by LP Hartley, they do things differently here.  Here’s some scattered observations.  Beer for breakfast in Darwin.  The greatest steak sandwich ever in Katherine.  Pineapple was optional.  Little Filipina-Australian lady gave us a lovely fierce spray about the Anzac Day parade being forced off the Stuart Highway onto a side street.  She was bristling with indignation.  We bristled together.

Rusty the goat hunter was at Tennant Creek, practising with his bow and arrows.  He told me he felt safe walking down the street at 3 am, What with the bow and arrows and 3 dogs in support.  There were BIG men with BIG hats.





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