A Road Less Travelled

Part 7

Dreamtime story

We were all out of our cars, standing at the flooded river, but decided to drive back into town to find out what the prognosis was. The roadhouse was a good meeting point. We talked to locals and discussed our options; most of my fellow travelers wanted to wait it out at the caravan park, and some camped at the river again . The water was expected to stay high for another three or four days. While some of us were still standing around at the roadhouse, a nice lady who just bought a heap of ice, came over and invited us to her house. She could obviously see that we were not locals and the very common bush hospitality was extended to us. They were having a big family get together and BBQ that night, and she asked us to join them and celebrate the first day of the New Year. Why not? It would be nice to go to a BBQ. Some of us accepted, went to buy beer to bring along (that is really how it works) and turned up at the ladies house a couple of hours later. It turned out, this nice fair skinned, blond lady was married to the Elder of the local Indigenous tribe, and we were going to get a glimpse of the original cultural life of Australia.
It was all very mysterious for me. I had read a lot about the Aboriginal culture while still in Europe, but have never come face to face with anyone. This elder had a firm grip on all the members of his family and exuded an air of patriarchic control over the three or four generations that had gathered there. I have since then learned that family is a much broader concept in the Aboriginal culture than what I was used to, and is extended to uncles, aunties and many cousins. It was a big party. We exchanged stories until the didgeridoos came out and people started dancing and singing until the early hours in the morning. I feel privileged to have been able to meet this elder and his family, and to be able to get a small glimpse of the true culture of our Indigenous people. He was wise and very interesting, as well as interested and open to the new world. It is very sad to see so many of their younger people losing touch with their culture, while still feeling lost in ours as well.

Those who lose dreaming are lost
(Aboriginal Saying)

Meanwhile, some people had pointed out to us, that we could always try to drive around the water and go through Winton, a 475-kilometer detour. The problem was, that no one was sure if the road is open everywhere, nor could we find out anything about the condition of a long stretch of dirt road between Winton and Hughenden. I didn't have big 4x4 car, and after all, it was the wet season; the road could be a muddy mush. Some, including me, decided to go talk to the local police officer and try to find out more. He assured us that the road is fine even for cars like mine. ...Worst case, we also had each other's cars to pull each other out of the bog - that's the beauty of travelling together. So, we decided to rather go for it than keep camping here, and were soon after on the road again. It was smooth sailing all the way, who would have thought. We stopped for a lunch break in Winton, then tackled the dirt road stretch with no dramas at all. I saw my first dingo on that stretch of drive.

I arrived in Charters Towers at midday on the third of January 2001.

I ended up living there for 16 years and I still live in the Australian Outback today.

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