OK folks, open your favorite map app and search for Mt Isa. Found it? Now look around it. See anything? Any geographical features of note? No, that's right, there are none. That blank space for hundreds and hundreds of kilometers around Mt Isa is called "nowhere". Now those of you who, like me, grew up in Saskatchewan may think you have a pretty decent handle on "nowhere ", as in " East Buttcheek is in the middle of nowhere". But I'm here to tell you that the Australian Outback does a highly advanced version of nowhere that makes the Canadian Prairie look positively bustling.
And it is dry, startlingly dry. Especially since it was so wet in the Atherton Highlands just hours before. In fact the transition from one of the lushest places I have ever been to one of the most arid occurred over the matter of a handful of kilometers. Sudden. We spent the night at the end of a washboard red dust track amongst white gum trees and nervous wallabies. In the morning as I was filling our water tank from a nearby tap an old man with a big gap tooth smile approached me. He had that classic Australian old man look of boots, knee socks and baggy shorts revealing stick thin legs with that baked brown and black mottled skin of a dermatologist's dreams.
"You know that that's not drinking water mate."
"Oh." I stared at the hose. The tank was almost full. "Is there anywhere nearby where we can fill with drinking water?"
"I dunno. Not with the drought. But its fine for washing and you can boil it to drink."
"Oh well, I'll just drink beer."
"Good on yer mate!" He laughed and slapped my shoulder. I had earned my first 'good on yer'. I brushed the powdery red dust off my feet and climbed into the cab of the motorhome. Mt Isa is a long long way away.
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