By John Stewart, 67. Gold Coast, QLD
I had just left for my holiday,
Been makin’ plans for weeks.
Took my campervan to cruise the highway
To be ‘round gum trees, rivers and creeks.
On my first night I slept under countless stars,
All noises sound different out here.
It was great to not hear the angry screech of hot cars,
And blokes hurling abuse in the air.
That night I felt grateful to not be in the suburbs,
Early next morning I was caught by surprise.
I seemed to be greeted by a few of the locals,
A goanna and a kangaroo, I won’t mention flies.
Under shelter sat a rock pool — thermal springs,
Spent the hottest part of the day keeping wet.
I parked in a good spot, beneath shady trees,
These are moments I was missing, with regret.
Suddenly I heard some chatter in the distance,
Heard one voice and then heard another.
They sounded puzzled. Were they needing advice?
When they appeared, two fellas stood still in wonder.
When we got to talkin’, they explained why they were walkin’,
And why they were on foot in the middle of the day.
They said, that morning their car started missin’,
Till it stopped runnin’ about a mile up the roadway.
Being good-natured, I wanted to help out,
I offered a beer and drove them back to their car,
“There ‘tis!” one yelled, tapping the window with a shout,
I added: “Without wheels, you won’t be goin’ very far.”
Things didn’t feel right as I laughed at what they were sayin’,
About the wheel-less car that just needed some fuel.
They kept sayin’ things would be right once they poured petrol in,
Fire up the engine and they should rock an’ roll.
One of them pointed to my jerry can on the roof-rack,
They were pleading if I could loan them just a bit.
I said: “I’d like to help but you blokes are out of luck”,
“My poor jerry can’s got a whopping big hole in it!”