Bourke

• Waited in Bourke from Monday until Thursday for a camera that never came to the local post office - it was sent to my home address despite the sender assuring me a few times that he would send it to Bourke instead of the regular address. I think he was one of those fast, dismissive types who believe slow types are never tricky.

• While in Bourke I camped on the small gravel in the carpark of the Back O Bourke centre, a modern museum/infomation place surrounded by a large flat field. Other camping sites were either prone to prowlers near the town or burrs in the bushland. These hardcore burrs stick into your mat, tyres and skin by the tens. Anyway, the camping was good as the carpark gravel was comfortable and one night the cops turned up just to see if I was okay.

• Outside the illustrious Bourke supermarket I met someone from the local paper who took my number and the next day 'Johno the Journo' interviewed and photographed me for an article. I could not think of anything interesting to say at all.