Monthly Archives: August 2010

Don Quixote and Sancho Panza Give Grey Lift from Cervantes


I left Grey in good spirits, and feeling glad to be Grey. I felt like I could whizz down to Perth in no time, but fancied more company, so I started hitch-hiking from Cervantes, which is just above Grey.

A Great Hitch-hiking Lift from Don Quixote and Sancho Panza

I had only stuck out my furry thumb for a minute or two when a beat up camper van pulled up, and a guy shouted out: ‘Hey greyngo, you wanna de lift, come on pronto’.

I needed no more invitation and rushed to the van before hopping in. The driver introduced himself as Sancho Panza, and his more cavalier passenger as Don Quixote.

They said they had been in Cervantes all their lives, so they felt a great relief to be let out into the world.

Jo Brand and Russell Brand Join Us On the Brand Highway

As we headed down the Brand Highway, we saw an odd-looking couple hitching south, so Sancho and Don picked them up as well.

The hitchers introduced themselves as Jo Brand and Russell Brand, and were quite a good laugh. It all made for quite some van load, and vindicated my decision to hitch down to Perth.

Brands with the Badgers in the Badginarra National Park

The Brands got out on the edge of the Badginarra National Park, where they were met by a family of badgers they knew.

The van calmed down a little after that, but was still very jolly, with Don jumping about to some Midnight Oil and Men at Work tracks.

Sights on the Edge of Perth

We passed Cataby, which was full of cats; Orange Springs, which was very orange; and the Moore River National Park, which had less river than I expected.

I don’t know what was going on in Beermullah, and there were all sorts of weird but artistic graffiti paintings in Banksia Grove.

And then we were in Perth, with the space and time having sped by, and many great memories stored in my noggin.

* Hitching can be dangerous.


Grey Takes Grey Road to Grey in Western Australia


I picked up some speed after passing Coorow, and headed south-west towards Perth on the Green Head Road: this of course reminded me of my green other half, and I was quite nostalgic as I raced through Western Australia with Latham and Coorow now only memories.

Grey Finds Itself on the Grey Road to Grey

I was making good progress towards the Western Australian capital of Perth when I found myself on the Grey Road to Grey. I’m telling you, you couldn’t make this up!

The Grey Road was nice and grey, just like in Britain, and I had to drop in to the town of course. I was met by another surprise in the town, as there were welcome signs for me everywhere.

One read: ‘The Grey is Great’, while another had the message: ‘The Grey is Veggie Gravy Filled with Fried Onions on Top of Mashed Potato and Veggie Sausages with Cabbage and Carrots.’

Yes, I thought the latter was a bit over the top too, but I appreciated the thought as well.

I was going to continue onto Perth, but they wouldn’t hear of it, and put me up in the greytest grey hotel you could imagine. It’s moments like this that provide the magic of travelling.

Prince Meets Pink Floyd Through Pigeon Cooing


I travelled down Latham Road for miles and miles, sometimes enjoying the journey through peaceful nothingness, and sometimes trying to work out everything about Latham, and my experiences there.

Pigeons Line the Coorow Road

As I approached Coorow on the Coorow Latham Road, there were pigeons of all sorts cooing a poem that rang a bell somewhere between my lugs, so that my mind was kind of going: ding, dong, coo, coo, ding, dong, coo, coo…

Talk about disturbing the peace! I wasn’t too amused at first, but then it began to sound sweeter and more melodic the more I heard it, and by the time I had passed through Coorow and out of earshot, I had remembered that the poem was an old one of Marc Latham’s, and is available in his now published in paperback book: Bipolarity and ADHD to Folding Mirrors.

Musical Poetry

From what I recollect, it kind of mixed Prince with Pink Floyd, and went something like this:

Pigeons on the Wing

When doves cry,
we fly, fly, fly,
high, high, high,
up into the sky.
Where we can’t hear
ourselves, called rats
with wings.
Do they look up,
to see us,
pigeons on the wing.
Do rats shine,
as when we turn,
having fun,
in the sun.
With light glinting off,
our outstretched
slanted soaring devices;
as we’re carried by the wind,
lifted on air, riding the thermals.
Through blue skies to green trees,
where we coo in peace.

I kind of wanted to return to hear more of the cooing after remembering what it was, but I’d already lost enough time in Latham, and it was about time I reached Perth.

Animals Visit Werewolf Grey to Save the Day


Lassie, Lassie, is that you Lassie. I was in turmoil, and Lassie was going through my mind like a mountain pass: jumping over and between the grey matter of my bonce as it bounded along and through rocky ridges in its Hollywood peak. Lassie, Lassie, where are you leading me, what are you trying to tell me. Lassie, Lassie, can I trust you, or are you a false guide. Lassie, Lassie, you look so good, but you might be under the control of a malevolent spirit.

Animals Tell Werewolf Grey to Get Out of Latham

Then Lassie was joined by all the other animals I’d met on my travel so far: Vombat the wombat was on guitar, Digger the dingo was on bass and Dolly the Dolphin was on drums, with the others providing backing vocals behind Lassie.

Together they started singing We Just Gotta Get Out of this Place and I knew then I could trust the message; while one source is open to question, and may just be literary nonsense, several trustworthy sources suggest veracity.

Lassie is not Literary Nonsense

So I crawled out of bed and made it downstairs. I was shocked to see it was full of grey werewolves. I asked one how long it had been here, and it said it arrived one day before me. I asked another, and it said it arrived one day after.

I sensed a pattern emerging, but didn’t want to follow the thread, so I stumbled towards the door, and was quite surprised that it opened first time, and I had emerged into sunshine having left Latham’s Hotel California.

Eagles Lead Werewolf Grey on Long Road Out of Latham

The same Eagles that had led me to the hotel were flying above, and they now led me to ‘a dark desert highway…’ where ‘cool wind in my hair…’ calmed me down. It seemed like a long road out of Latham, but after a few hours I could see it no more.

Is Britain Sunny Now? Grey Dreams and Nightmares


I seemed to sleep for ever. I dreamt that Britain was sunny all the time now, and that everybody and everything was joyous under the continual blue skies and bright sunshine.

I thought that Britain might be so effervescent now that stars had fallen down to Earth in the form of birds to re-energise their glows amongst all the brightness.

I thought that Green may have forgotten me already, and that it was now enjoying its time with Blue and Yellow: I remembered that if you mix blue and yellow you get green, so maybe they were all just meant to be together all the while. Maybe the Grand Council does know everything.

I also wondered who that Grey Werewolf I’d seen was. Was it connected to me, or was it another me: was there a message within the vision? Was it there to lead or follow, or was it just to show me how grey and ragamuffinish I look?

When I awoke my grey fur was soaked through, and I felt rather queasy.

Grey Follows Eagles to Hotel California


Hi, you won’t believe this, but I’m still in Latham. I’m beginning to think I belong here or something, and exist only in Latham!

Returning to Latham as Another

After I had my fANTastic ant encounter I returned to slumber and slept for what seemed an eternity. I think I reached the borders of the aboriginee dreamtime, but then had to return.

I was hungry and thirsty, so I thought I’d return to Latham to re-energise.

I had a bit of an out of body experience as I returned to the town, and felt like I was almost still in dreamtime.

The sign was the right way round this time, clearly spelling out: LATHAM.

As I was walking through town I saw some people playing football and then the ball went astray; landing at the feet of what looked like another grey werewolf.

The werewolf kicked it back, and then got talking to the players, before going to a bar with them, just as I had sometime before.

Following the Eagles to the Hotel California

I was feeling perplexed, and thought I’d better find somewhere to stay to get myself back together.

I looked up into the hazy midday heat, and a couple of eagles seemed to be trying to lead me somewhere, as they waved their wings in a southerly direction.

So I followed them until they flew down and rested on a hotel called California. I thought it was a bit of a strange name for a hotel in Western Australia, but I suppose it wasn’t that extraordinary really.

In fact, it all reminded me of the ‘Hotel California’ song by the Eagles, and how they sang about not being able to leave the lovely place. It was quite a coincidence actually.

I went straight to bed.

The Wisdom of Ants is Pants when Hungover


Sorry I haven’t blogged for a while, but things have gone all weird in Latham, and I seem to have lost track of space and time, as well as self.

Ants Exist You Know

I was going to get up after my day on the ale in Latham, but then I felt groggy and my head hurt so I lay back down.

Then I heard something saying: ‘You think you’re big you do, don’t you.’

I looked up and could see nothing around. I thought I must be hearing voices in my confused state.

But then I heard it again: ‘You think you’re big you do, don’t you.’

And this time it was followed by: ‘Oi, you big bundle of grey fluff, you think you’re big don’t you, you can’t even see me down here.’

Talking with Ants

So I looked down and saw an ant, carrying a massive weight on its back, and working hard farming aphids. I felt quite guilty, sleeping off a hangover, while that wee chap was working so hard.

Then it said: ‘Well, when you get a chance, read Marc Latham’s ant theory article on Existential, because it might make you look on ants, humanity, life, the universe and the Great Scheme of Things in a completely different way…or maybe a little anyway, and you might even notice how similar us ants are to you werewolves.’

I was just about to respond, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. I went back to sleep, and dreamt of antstronauts exploring the universe.

Latham is Weird Off the Rails


I made good progress on the way to Latham, but never really felt like I was getting nearer: like some things you just can’t reach. I also passed some signs to Perth on the way. It was a bit of a roundabout way to get to Perth, but Latham did sound rather interesting, as Lassie’d suggested.

Reaching and Walking All Over Latham

I shapeshifted into an emu for the last part of the journey and made good progress after that. I didn’t know I’d arrived when I got there, because the Welcome sign said MAHTAL rather than LATHAM, like there was expected to be some kind of mirror effect or something. I thought it seemed kind of weird, so I quickly changed into a human.

But it seemed really nice when I got inside, with lots of people happily playing sports and doing fun things in forested parks and pristine lakes.

However, then I crossed the tracks and it didn’t seem nice at all, with lots of people surviving in the sewers and slaving in sweat shops; and this not surprisingly led to a rather depressing and hostile atmosphere. I felt more at home on this side of the tracks funnily enough. I think Green would have preferred the other.

Meeting Twentieth Century British People Used as Forced Labour

A ball fell into my path, and I kicked it back to its owners. They asked where I was from, and I said I’d just been sent over from Britain. They said that was funny, because the same had happened to them as child migrants fifty years before.

Moreover, as I hadn’t been allowed contact with Green, they never heard from their families. They had also been used as forced labour, so at least I was a little better off, being free.

They said life had improved now, and bought me lunch in a pub where we continued our chat. It was a nice atmosphere in the pub, and although I only intended to drink a schooner or two, once I had the taste I found it difficult to leave.

I awoke the next day on the edge of town.