Tuesday 1 July 2014
Bottled water and Gloria
We have bought twenty-four bottles of spring water with us. Do we need it or is this a memory of flat tasteless water where only special soap would lather and your hair stood up on end? I used to joke that it was easy to style. Because it was so dry, all I had to do was snap my hair off into a shape and it would stay that way. Will it be the same on this trip or will we bring the bottled water home with us.
A Sunliner mobile home complete with TV, air-conditioning unit and towing a Rav 4 4x4 car behind races past. How classy is that. What a contrast between what could be a couple of grey nomads spending their kid's inheritance to Mum, Dad and two small boys in an old yellow F100 piggy backing a renovated pick up camper.
Alongside the road are huge canvas covered hills of wheat. I wonder if I lift an edge of the canvas whether I'll see thousands of mice scamper and scurry.
Before we reach Port Augusta we decide to take the old road to Port Germaine . After taking pictures of the longest jetty we elect to go into the old local pub for coffee. Inside is warm and friendly. I drag up a bar stool in front of a big open fire and Alan stands at the bar ordering our drinks. A wizened up old lady toddles into the bar and heads for the stool next to me. She heaves herself onto the stool and settles her arms on the counter. All the staff greet her as if she is part of their family. I have never seen anyone so lined. Her eyes are nearly hidden under folds of eyelid skin and her cheeks are deeply furrowed. Her ragged old cardigan is missing several buttons, and on her head is a multi coloured beanie that has seen better days. Wisps of grey hair escape and form a halo.
'Do you live here? I ask
'This is my stool and I just go home to lay down my head' she replied. 'Come on Barry, where's my coffee? she chides the tardy barkeeper. 'He can't make good coffee,' she confides. 'Mike is the only one who knows how to make my coffee, but he's not on today.'
We talk for about half an hour and I come away feeling enriched for having met her. I wonder how old she really is? And that's not a question I'm going to ask any woman.
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Gloria sounds fabulous. I want her whole story. I would have been bold enough to inquire about her age, but in a round about manner. Perhaps I would have feigned interest in the ponies if that's what she watched whilst there or at least how long she had lived in the town.
ReplyDeleteI am a sticky beak. Now you have to fill in her life to go with the fabulous description. She will obviously become a character in a book. Remember the women trekking through outback and regional WA in Belly Dancing for Beginners? I sense a new book plot to talk through when we are ensconced at a sunny table at Kirks.