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Well, with plenty of hints and directions from cycle-boy mib
and her ogre boss madram,
Amy and company are headed off on their road-trip to Hervey
Bay. Although it may not be in the same league as Jack
Kerouac, I’m sure they will have a blast. Saturday is, of course, Amy’s
birthday so if she succeeds in getting moblogging going, I expect to see lots
of photos posted to this blog – especially interesting ones of toilets, g-string
competitions or strange lights in the sky pretending to be fireworks…
Thoughts of heading north on Highway One takes me back to my younger days when
over long weekends, I’d set off with a group of friends in our hippy-van (actually
a Mitsubishi Express van with a sun-roof!) on a road-trip that usually took
us about as far as Rockhampton. We’d drive through the night and end up at the
Singing Ship at dawn to watch the sun rise over the ocean.
For those who don’t know, the Singing Ship is a big sculpture styled
like a ship (honestly, it really should be more famous than the Big
Pineapple or the Big Banana). It’s up on a headland, so when the wind blows,
the sail makes a sound like a pipe organ. One of my friends was a guitar-player
in a band at the time and he’d play accompaniment while we all sat on the ground
and had a breakfast of chips, hamburgers and chicko rolls (does anyone actually
know what’s in a chicko roll?) that we’d bought at the local all-night service
station.
The Singing Ship was at a place called Emu
Park – don’t really know why it was called this because I never ever saw
an emu there, but we did once run over a poor little possum.