The next bit starts with a man leaving town, the man being me and the town being Pert and ends with a man coming to town, the town being Kalgoorlie and the man, who do you know? Me, again.
So, most people would go in a plane, train (once a week), automobile, me? My thumb and an automobile, not mine.
So to get things going, I finished off a bottle of Vodka, not a good idea, which didn’t help or did it?
The first guy was in health care, he dropped me off on the edge of town and the next person that picked me up was on one of her adventures of rescuing Kangaroos, especially the babies found in the pouches, she paid Aboriginals in beer for them, fair enough?
She showed me her place, and gave me a beer, I had my first bucket bong.
I watched the milking of the goats in the afternoon sunshine, in a barren landscape, she called it a goat farm, but there was only 3 goats, fair enough?
Herself and her boyfriend drove me to the local truck stop and I got a ride straight away from a guy that drove from Kalgoorlie to Perth.
Baby, I was in business.
The guy I got a lift from drove from Kalgoorlie to Perth and back I one day, I got him on the return leg, 1300kms, I didn’t want to drive as I didn’t have my licence on me, it was an $80 fine, but it was the bush and anything was better than crashing.
So I took over the driving and before we were zooming 110 kms an hour to Kalgoorlie, look out baby, here we come, Yeehaw!!
Got there at midnight and gave Theresa a call, which she answered and I was installed for the next 2 weeks, in a little place I used to call home sweet home (it wasn’t that small)
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