This Musical Dispatch from the Front is a guest post by my old—in both senses of that word—friend Frank Baarda,* a long-term resident of Yuendumu.

For decades we have made our annual trek up and down the Stuart Highway.  I recall some memorable road: signs:

Ki Ki – Australia’s Pistachio Capital

Bordertown – Bob Hawke’s Birthplace

Both signs have since been reduced to uninspiring name places.

I do wonder what happened to the pistachio crop. As for Bob Hawke’s place of birth being erased from the sign, it demonstrates how ephemeral adulation of politicians is.

Scott who? Tony who? Jenny who?

This brings to mind the never-ending sniping at the memory of Gough Whitlam. Gough Whitlam, whose government policies enabled the sons and daughters of immigrants and poorer Australians to attend university without being hexed by an unpayable debt. 

Thank you Gough.

The last two years we have extended our trip to visit our oldest son and his family in Thirroul (14Km north of Wollongong).

We arrived back in Yuendumu exactly 5 years after I stopped working for the Yuendumu Mining Company on its 50th anniversary.

We covered 7,800 km and used over 500 litres of petrol. So much for our aim at having a small carbon footprint.

The post Covid sky is once again swarming with aircraft and the roads are choked by slowly crawling unending columns of vehicles. 

At the Davos capitalist summit, climate change hardly rated a mention.

In 1922 famed English author D. H. Lawrence wrote Kangaroo during a stay in Thirroul. 

A hundred years later Kim Mahood’s book Wandering with Intent was published.

Wandering with Intent is a collection of beautifully written essays in which Kim ventures back and forth on both sides of the cross-cultural frontier. Because of Kim’s own wanderings, she is familiar with both worlds. She perspicaciously describes the paradoxes and humanity of a poorly understood part of Australia.

One of the essays in Kim’s latest book is Lost and found in Translation first published in the Griffith Review. I’ve lent out my copy of Wandering with Intent but as I recall in the essay she contrasts D. H. Lawrence’s view of the Australian landscape with the view of her friends this side of the frontier.

I paid a visit to the Thirroul library. Impressive was the substantial crowd which included a large group of children engaged in school holiday activities. Not so impressive was the poorly labelled rather haphazard distribution of books on the shelves. 

There was no hope of me finding Wandering with Intent. Neither did I discern any evidence that D. H. and Frieda Lawrence had ever been in Thirroul. Not even their ghosts were palpable in the library .

There is a bit of the Ancient Mariner in me.  I talk to strangers.

On our way back, near the NSW/South Australia border we called in to a roadside rest stop as did a family heading in the opposite direction. 

They were returning to Wollongong. “We’ve just got back from nearby Thirroul” “I was born in Thirroul” “In that case you know all about D. H. Lawrence” I ventured. ”I sure do, my father still lives in Thirroul and is a big D. H. Lawrence fan”

This exchange took place 1,000 km from the Thirroul library.

See yas,

Frank

You can read Frank’s earlier posts—and it has been a while since I’ve posted one—here and here

Photo: Southern Highland News