I’m Outta Here
I’m on a mission to find Australia’s most fascinating place, person, and pub
Archie did a bad thing
Archie fell out with his employers, and being an aggressive drunk, he took the last of his empty beer bottles and lobbed it through the windscreen of his boss’s car.
To avoid repercussions, Archie booked himself on the next ship out of Scotland and two months later he disembarked at the Port of Melbourne, Australia.
Twenty years later, my Uncle Archie returned. He sold his house in Australia and shipped his possessions back to Scotland.
He arrived home on a wet and windy day in November. The icy rain was relentless. Cold, wet, and jetlagged, Archie vowed to emigrate back to Australia on the next available flight — and he did.
I’m going walkabout
I’m following in Uncle Archie’s footsteps. I’m going to Australia. I’ll be a person of no fixed abode. A roaming, roving, rapt observer.
I want to see what all the fuss is about. Maybe not all the fuss — vast swaths of Australia is inhospitable bush merging into a never-ending uninhabitable outback.
I’m going where the people are. I’m not so much interested in the things that can kill me.
