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Pom Gone Walkabout
A website of stories, fun and
adventure.
Eric Cullen, age 47 and still very much a young boy at heart.
He's a product of the 1960’s, born of English parentage in the midlands
town of Loughcaster.
Forever young in mind, spirit and adventure, Eric is horribly trapped
inside the rapidly aging body of a middle aged adult.
Greying hair, a spreading midriff and frustrated with the world, he is
forever searching for that elusive something.
Eric has a yearning for the past
and is never quite satisfied with his lot in life. Luckily Eric always kept
his sense of humour about him.
A midlife crisis? No not really it’s always been this
way. “Eric! You are never satisfied, I really don’t know what is to
become of you” His mam often told him. Even after all these years it still rings
true in his ears and the words are etched forever,
deep within his brain.
When Eric left school, he was unsure of what he wanted to do
with his life.
An apprenticeship became a trade,
a steady income found him a wife, house and a mortgage.
Banks love
a steady income don't they?
The years went by, birthdays came and went, Eric grew weary of his
mundane life and likened himself to a hamster in a cage, stuck on a
treadmill. Never ever quite satisfied, Eric was still searching for that
elusive something.
One day whilst Eric was reading a copy of “Boys
Own Adventure” he started to smile, “Workers wanted" Australia the lucky
country, cricket champions, A land of opportunity, she’ll be right
attitude and a fair go for all” the advert proclaimed.
"Champions of cricket, my a#s#!” Eric muttered in
disgust. True 1989 had indeed been a pretty bad summer for English cricket fans, but cogs began to whirr in
his brain, thoughts and ideas
were set in motion.
One Saturday morning Eric cycled into town and
purchased a book from WH Smiths.
"The Adventurers guide to Australia". Not long after Eric had finished
reading the book, emigration forms were carefully filled in and posted.
It
was only a short matter of time before his house was sold.
Months went by until one day, a large blue lorry with “Pickford’s” written
down the side pulled up outside his house, the neighbours curtains
twitched in unison, Eric whistled happily.
Many mugs of tea and biscuits later, all of his belongings were packed.
A few weeks later and the big day had finally arrived, it
was time to say goodbye. A few teary farewells were made at the airport,
and then a big silver bird with a kangaroo on its tail sped down the
runway taking Eric and his wife off to a new life in a land
downunder. Eric worried that he might not like vegemite on his toast, or
if at all.
A new home in Sydney, a career in television, an
opportunity to work with the stars, life was good, Eric thought that he
was happy.
One evening whilst Eric made his way home from work, he
noticed that a very large dark cloud had formed over the harbour bridge,
“something’s brewing” thought Eric.
It was, and a divorce just like lightning came like a
bolt from out of the blue. Eric was all alone in a strange land.
A few years passed, but all was not lost, Eric found
himself an English nurse, who shared his love of travel, freedom and
adventure. Life was good again.
The English nurse and Eric settled down together in a
nice little flat, not far from the city and near the sea. She even let
him have a Land Rover and Eric was very happy. The Land Rover took them
all over the country, and to places that other 4WD’s could only ever
dream of going to.
One day the English nurse said “Shall we just pack up and
go” Eric’s eyes lit up, for they had both realised long ago that life in
the city was too noisy and hectic. The long unsocial hours at work and
people always seemed to be in a hurry. “Where's it to be then?” asked
the
English nurse.
The answer was easy for they had both often dreamt of
moving to a quieter place, a place that their Land Rover had taken them
many times, the Great Australian outback, the final frontier?
A few months later, with a job secured it was goodbye
cable TV, farewell private patients. The Land Rover was packed, fuelled
and ready to go, another day, another adventure.
Eric’s huge grin got bigger by the mile and soon the city
had been left far behind. The English nurse was very excited too “Hey we could
get a dog, I’ve always wanted a dog” she said.
“A Labrador!” she added
sounding even more excited.
Eric, along with the English nurse and Banjo the yellow
Lab now live 600km from the nearest city, 275km from the nearest set of
traffic lights and a million miles from care.
A place in the outback, scorching heat and flies in summer, long cold
winter nights, lovely deep blue sky, and red dirt that runs through your
veins.
Eric really believes that he has finally found that elusive
something.... For the time being, that is!
A Pom Gone Walkabout, that's me!

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WITH ISSUE ONE - SEE PAGE 3 |
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HEAR THE LEIGH
CREEK COAL TRAIN IN GLORIOUS STEREOPHONIC SOUND |
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Pom,
Pommy, Pommy bastard
noun
-- Australian English, informal disapproving of an
English person.
Gone
adjective -- No longer present or in existence.
verb -- Move to or from a place.
Walkabout
noun -- Temporary migration undertaken by Aborigines,
also has
the wider meaning of a journey. |
The Great
Australian Outback

His bark
really is worse than his bite!
In my hometown of Loughcaster in England, a street fair has been held there
ever since medieval times. For three whole days and nights
during November the market place and adjoining streets becomes a
huge funfair. The aroma of candy floss, toffee apples and
hotdogs mix with diesel as white knuckle rides and sideshows
provide excitement for both the young and old.
I remember one such ride that regularly appeared during the
1960’s called “The Rotor” It was a rickety wooden cylinder in
structure with stairs that led to a viewing platform at the top
for the less adventurous. The real action took place downstairs
in the middle. The rotor as its name implies spun so fast that
the riders would be flung outwards with such force that they
would stick to the outer walls, rather like a top loading
washing machine. As if this wasn’t enough the floor disappeared
leaving a gaping hole in the street,
I thought that this was
quite a clever design feature, as it saved the operators the
bother of cleaning up any vomit once the ride had stopped.
I liken the Australian outback to a huge fairground rotor, where
a very powerful natural energy source has flung off the greater
population of Australia and banished them to live on the
perimeter coastal cities of the country. On the other hand maybe
I have been watching far too much Doctor Who.
It is true that the
Australian Outback is quite a powerful place, having
a strong unreleasing hold on the people who choose to live
there. The red dust gets under your skin and many find it hard
to live anywhere else, even with all the hardships that living
in an unforgiving land can bring about.
The Outback
is vast; it covers
more than three quarters of the continent of Australia, 3.5
million square kilometres of land in all.
It
has a unique natural beauty and character, which must be treated
with the respect that it deserves. Many a traveller has perished
in this quite unforgiving land.
The outback
is an ancient land, one of the oldest places on earth. The
aborigines tell of it’s beginnings in their wonderful dreamtime
stories of old, but where does the outback began and end?
Traditionally it has been said that you are only in the outback
once you are “Beyond the black stump” or “The back o Bourke”.
In
these modern times that we now live in, and with the increase in
the number of city people visiting the area, the outback now
unofficially begins beyond the last McDonalds and ends at the
back o the first Starbucks franchise in the city.

So just what is it
that makes the outback such a special place? Well for me it is
the remoteness, the solitude and the quiet.
I love the huge arid
deserts and the wildlife they support.
The harsh and rugged
landscape, the blue sky and wonderful sunsets. The outback is
full of interesting characters that have a refreshing outlook on
life. I admire their spirit, endurance and their determination
to make a go of it, even when battling against Mother Nature.
Maybe it is the unforgiving heat of summer, or the huge sheep
and cattle stations, stockmen and their families. Perhaps it is
the Royal flying doctor service which provides a vital medical
lifeline, or is it the School of the air which provides an
education for the outback children. Is it the aboriginal people
who first tamed the outback and learnt to respect and understand
it?
It is all these things and much, much more.
Yes the outback truly is a wonderful place to live and visit.
After all, ten billion flies a day can’t be wrong, can they?

Thought for the
day...
"If the grass
truly is
greener on the other side, then you are
going to need twice the number of goats" |
STOP
PRESS
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Two new exciting issues to
read as well as an online exhibition of Eric's Loughcaster
images that he took in the 1980's. Plus the latest blog
updates and images of the week.
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PomGoneWalkabout
a member of
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©Eric
Cullen Pom Gone Walkabout July 2008 |
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Ernie Steps Out
Prior to 1998 I had never been to
a Motorshow,
because as far as I was concerned cars were just a means of
getting from one place to another, hence the justifiable
ownership to me of a Holden Barina, aka Vauxhall Corsa to us
Poms.
So when I was given two free tickets to attend the Motorshow in
Sydney, I thought well why not, it will be a cheap day out,
won’t it?
I’d heard stories of how some people get totally
carried away by the glamour of the show and end up buying a
new car that they do not really need or more importantly
can’t afford. Half naked models spread over the bonnet of a Ford
Capri! You know that you want me? Yes I can see just how easily
it would be, but willpower that’s what’s required, a level head
and plenty of willpower.
Everything was fine until I came across the Land Rover stand; it
was Rule Britannia with a slight German accent. Deep down
something from within was stirring my Pommy heritage, small at
first but growing bigger by the minute. It was love at first
sight from the moment that I first lay eyes on her, there she
sat shiny and alluring, she smelt nice. The new Land Rover
Freelander, I just knew that I had to have one; yes I had
succumbed to the Motorshow disease.
A few weeks later after a test
drive and quite a bit of
lobbying
to the English Nurse to release
finances, we
were the
proud
owners of a
brand new shiny
Land Rover
Freelander 1.8 Xei
soft-top in
Epsom Green.
A whole
new world began to
open up for us as our weekends
and holidays
were spent
exploring the far
reaches of NSW.
Not
for us the shopping mall
car parks of Sydney!
Even with
all the problems and
frustrations that we had with
that early Freelander there was
still a certain pride that only
Land Rover owners will
understand. My love for Solihull
and England’s finest blossomed,
so much in fact that we
purchased another one, albeit a
different more rugged model.
Continued on page
2
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England will fit
into Australia 59 times, with a little leftover to spare.
There are 383 people in England for every square kilometre of
land.
Compare this to Australia where there are on average only 2.6
people for every square kilometre of land. If I stand on a chair
and look through my binoculars I can wave to my neighbour.
The most densely populated part of Australia blows out this average
considerably. On most summer days it will have over 10,000 people
all crammed into one tiny area. I am referring of
course to the famous Bondi beach, where much to the locals disgust, British backpackers on Christmas day
increase this figure to around 250,000!
Cor Blimey!
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