I almost did not bother with this last post from Ipswich, our days drift from one to the other with little excitement reflecting the quiet uneventful days of most who sit about waiting for things to happen to them, rather than the other way around. But it is the last of this stay, because tomorrow we will head away, before we are moved on.
While Ipswich is hardly the ultimate tourist destination, it does have a certain charm ad there are features to impress, such as the hundreds of Royal Poinciana or Flame Trees lining the streets, in full bloom with their dark brown seed pods hanging like added decorations. These compliment the many Frangipani trees, glorious with their white, yellow or pink flowers, a variety I am particularly fond of.
We discovered a very smart new Coles supermarket within walking distance where they manage to make our favourite Vietnamese rolls, rather than hot dog rolls labelled as such.
Yesterday when we were out and about we came upon a second mob of motorcycles, adorned by Christmas teddy bears and other festive decoration, accompanied by half a dozen police cars and bikes. Recent laws here in Queensland make the gathering of motorcyclists in public in groups of three or more illegal. Of course the law was created to kerb the growth of the gang crime rife in the south east of this state, not motorcycle clubs; however the libertarians have got their hackles up over it all.
On the national news front, we have seen the disillusion of gay marriages in the ACT (Australian Capital Territory) made in the past week; it was seen unconstitutional to have marriage laws in one state at odds with the nation as a whole. Sensible thinking; it is strange that the United State of America did not come to the same conclusion. As to voicing my own opinion about gay marriage; this is probably not the right forum for such matters, although I will say that I think that New Zealand had it just right when they legislated for civil unions, before they went and spoiled it all by joining the trend to call it “marriage”. It is curious that one meets few who support the concept, even though the very vocal urbanites would say otherwise; a referendum is the solution, and then indeed the people will decide. And I shall say no more on that.
In marking time, the cricket has dominated the television in our little household and I have buried my head into my family roots via the web, finding in these last few days that I am the many-times-great-grand-daughter of Danish, Welsh, French and Scottish kings, Roman emperors, Hungarian princes and so many more big-wigs from the past; me and a million others, no doubt. I am indeed a true blue mongrel.
Yesterday afternoon, severe weather warnings flashed across the television screens, intruding upon the excitement of the cricket game and Chris suggested we dismantle the outdoor part of our camp immediately. As we started doing so, the skies were still clear and our neighbours watched us rushing about as they sat quietly relaxing in the heat, supping on their beer, ignoring our called warnings. However it was not long before the sky turned black, as black as when a big UFO comes down over the Earth in Sci-fi films, the winds came up and hail rained down through the thunder and lightning, as big as unripe walnuts, the din as if a truck was tipping a load of rubble on the roof.
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| Our camp at the Ipswich Showgounds |
Interestingly we had just that morning spent some time chatting with an old caravan salesman who spoke of many matters including the hailstorms of South-East Queensland. Last night we watched from inside the caravan as a very brief but early white Christmas arrived; hail bouncing down to settle like a white carpet, before melting in the heat of the late afternoon. After a while it eased and we were able to open up and let the evening creep back in with the sound of the crickets and frogs.
This morning
we had a death in our household; our trusty TomTom gave up the ghost, and could
not even draw more than a flicker of life from the car battery. Rest in Peace,
faithful friend and guide! Forgive me forever speaking evil of you!
On a brighter note we popped down to the local Harvey Norman and purchased a new navigational devise, a Navman; it felt like a betrayal to switch brands. We can now fill some of the days ahead wrestling with new technology.
This morning again marked the Ipswich Flea and Craft Market, the same we were subjected to a week ago. Today we did not bother to check it out again, however many hundreds did, all intruding into our camp area once more. Our For Sale sign drew one interested shopper, an elderly lady who finally decided it wouldn’t fit in their carport. A shame really, I could see her and her husband enjoying many happy years up at Hervey Bay in our lovely little caravan.
And speaking
of selling; our two little Scandinavians have been busy painting their blue van
to pale green, two days of diligent brushwork. The bench-seat mentioned in an
earlier post sits all alone in the grounds with a simple cardboard sign: Free. The van can be purchased for a
mere $600; I suspect there are more customers for the van in that price range than
there are for our caravan at a considerably greater figure. I learned that the
girls have been here for five weeks and wish to stay a further five months, but
in the absence of work, $600 is better spent on food than capital investment.
You may think that we should be sharing our meals with these poverty
stricken girls however two nights ago
they headed off out for the evening not returning until after mid-night,
obviously having enjoyed themselves, and last night, there was a decided scent
of weed drifting across after the storm had passed. Maybe it was from further
afield?
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