“Broome, it’s great.”
“It’s really far away though.”
“I didn’t know it was 3000 km away, they just asked me the day before if I wanted to go to Broome the next day and I said sure and they woke me up in the morning and we left.”
“When did you figure out it was a thirty hour drive?”
“Oh, about the third day.”
Bill Callahan – Too Many Birds is playing in the background of the most amazing library I have ever been to. What is there to say about Australia.
I was sick when I got off the plane, off the shuttle, ended up at the first place I saw. It was bleak but sufficient and I rode out jetlag and antibiotics and the general unease of leaving behind a not so bad life. This town is full of escapees, from New Zealand and Europe, running from the financial crisis, earthquake damage, winter. There is a lot of ramen and hope and shitty beer, a lot of people away from home for the first time, shelving themselves on bunk beds and figuring it out. The city itself was charming, the people well dressed, the museums free and pedestrian malls ample. So much better than ever imagined.
Feeling better, I got on a train and headed for the ocean.
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