Image by Kiifu via Flickr
We thanked the bees for the bungee to Bingie, and were about to leave, but then one introduced herself as Beatrice, before telling us not to buzz off straightaway, as they were having a bbq on the beach that night.
A bbq on Bingie beach with Beatrice and the bungeeing bees was too much to resist, so we quickly agreed in unison, and began to chill as the sun climbed to its midday peak.
Barry Joins Bee BBQ
We’d filled our bellies and were enjoying a tinnie
or two with beeautiful company
when I thought I saw a familiar face out at sea
and then realised it was Kalbarri Barry.
I asked what he was doing all the way over the other side of the ocean, and he said he was just holidaying with the family. I thought it was an amazing coincidence, but you know, these things do happen on the road.
Barry Suggests Shifty and Carry
Barry said they were setting off for Sydney the next day, and invited us along. I hadn’t shape-shifted for a while, so I suggested that I change into a bottlenose and swim with Barry and his family; pulling the others behind us on a makeshift raft.
They all agreed to the idea, and we constructed the raft after the bbq finished.
As the last embers of the fire lost their glow, we fitted the harness to the raft using the moonlight that silverlined across the ocean to our place on the sand.
Image by Kiifu via Flickr
The others stirred soon after, and Angry asked what all the racket was about. I explained about the bungees from Bingie, thinking he may get angry about their early morning high jinx, but he straight away pointed out that they were bungeeing from the north, so why didn’t we ask if we could hitch a lift on their bungees. I thought it was a great use of his mind.
Can You Ride Tandem
So when the next bungee jumpers appeared from the north we asked if we could hitch a lift up to Bingie. They said no problem, and that they’d arrange for four tandem bungees to be sent down next time.
So we packed up our gear, including a few spare spuds, and waited for our lifts. It was only a fifteen minute wait before we saw four bungees appear over the horizon, and a few seconds later they reached their destination just in front of us.
Bungee to Bingie with a Bee
It was a bit of a mad scramble, but we all got onto a bungee, and the next thing we were flying through the air on our way to Bingie. It was only when I was on the bungee that I realised the pilot was a bee.
It was really exhilarating, but didn’t take long, and ended too quickly for my liking. We all landed brilliantly in Bingie. They had a great landing site full of grey orbs on green grass, and I wondered if they’d been expecting me!
Image via Wikipedia
I awoke on the beach, and it was light.
There seemed to be a commotion out at sea
I wondered what it might be.
Before falling back to sleep. When I awoke again, it was raining. Once again I returned to the land of nod.
Then I was awoken by a regular splashing in our locality,
and wondered what it might be.
I thought somebody might have left a tap on, but then remembered we were on the beach and there were no taps nearby.
Bungee Jumpers Thud Spud Sands
Then I thought all the early morning activity might be the MoMo East returning from the deep after its epic battle with MiMo Moby, or Smiggin escaped from its hole, so I suddenly bolted upright.
I was relieved to see it was not MoMo, oh no; or Smiggin, thank holiculturing; but rather some bungee jumpers that seemed to be arriving from a great distance.
Bungees from Bingie
Adopting a posh phone voice I once heard spoken in an old film, I said ‘hey, hold on there old chap, don’t you think it’s a little early for that kind of caper?’
I realised he must be a local when he replied, ‘Strewth cobber, it’s never too early for some bonzer fun like this.’
I just had time to ask him where the bungees were deriving from before he started bouncing out. I could just about hear him say they were bungeeing from Bingie before he bounced out of sight.
Image via Wikipedia
We made good progress in the morning; reaching Eurobodalla by mid-morning, and Bodalla around midday. They were quite similar towns, but Eurobodalla reminded me more of Europe than Bodalla for some reason.
South Coast Cheese and Potato Point
We were going to stop in Bodalla for lunch, but then read about the South Coast Cheese just outside town. It sounded good, so we continued on to that, and were relieved to find that what we read was not literary nonsense. We picked up some right cheesy bargains at the factory shop; and I mean cheesy as in food rather than an inauthentic item.
We couldn’t wait to reach Potato Point after that, and had no trouble finding it, after following directions cut into pointing potatoes.
Reaching the East Coast at Potato Point
The Tasman Sea grew bigger and bigger as we approached the east coast; and washed over us like a giant wet towel after we all jumped in upon arrival.
We had reached the east coast after many months of travelling. I thought of Bonzo, and how he would no doubt have loved the refreshing relief of the neverending waves. But he was in a happy place.
After an hour or three,
we had a tea fit for King Eddie,
and Queen Eloise,
of potatoes and cheese.
Image via Wikipedia
Once they’d finished their banjo duel, Angry shook the badger’s hand and introduced himself. The badger said it went by the name of Badge. It’s parents emerged from their sett then, and Badge introduced them as Brock and Brocc.
Staying Dry in Dampier
Angry mentioned that we were having trouble finding our way through the forest, and Badge said ‘it was no surprise, as many people read that it is a small forest, but that is literary nonsense; it is a big place.’ We agreed.
Brock said they’d been expecting us, after the badgers of the Badginarra National Park had told them we were on our way. Then he offered us a badger barge they had, and said it would see us through the forest.
We were overjoyed at this, and Angry gave them his guitar in return. Several other badgers came out to see us off, badgering and barging one another to get to the front.
Barging Through Dampier
We had a wonderful time barging through Dampier, and it was nothing like the experience those poor people had in the film Deliverance, which I’d half suspected we might suffer after the duelling banjos reminded me of the film.
We reached higher ground in the late afternoon, and after having a gander in Nerrigundah Elle thought she could see the east coast. I thought it was a good use of her body.
I also wondered if reaching the east coast, all this time after starting off on the south-west coast, might be a sign that this journey may be nearing its end. I felt melancholy and optimism course through my veins, fuse in my heart, and surge upwards to mind.
Image via Wikipedia
The pigeon mothers of Cooma put on a fine feast for us, and we thanked them with full contented stomachs that rumbled no more. They said it was the least they could do, after we’d showed their Coorow relatives the utmost respect.
Tara to Cooma
They put us up in some lofts they’d converted for our visit; there was even a longer one for Elle, and a smaller one for Angry.
In the morning they cooked us up some pigeon porridge, which they call pigidge. It was made with goat’s milk, and was oat so delicious.
But then it came time to say goodbye, and we left Cooma with a heavy heart and stomach.
We could hear them cooing their farewells until we entered deepest Badja State Forest, and the chattering of badgers took over.
Banjo Badgers of Badja Forest
It was nice to walk through the thick forest at first, but then we reached the swamps, and it looked like it could get tricky.
We were looking for a clear route through when Angry said he thought he could hear a banjo being played in the distance.
We thought he’d turned more crazy than angry for a minute, but then we could all hear it.
We followed the direction of the sound, and before long our lugs delivered us to a clearing, where we could see a badger picking at its banjo. Angry pulled out his guitar and started playing along, and soon they were raising the canopy with their badger beats.
Image via Wikipedia
We didn’t know what Cooma could provide at the late hour we arrived. Our bellies were all berried out, and seemed to have been racing to rumble the roarest more than our legs had been spinning to speed the slickest. But our hopes rose at the Cooma city limits, as we were met by a pigeon in a pinny.
Pigeon Mothers of Cooma
She welcoomed us to Cooma, and cooed that her name was Patricia; one of the many pigeon mothers of Cooma. However, she had been named after her grandmother, who was a member of the Partridge Family.
She said they’d heard we were on our way from the pigeons in Coorow, who’d carried a literary nonsense message about us across Australia; which had now turned out to not be literary nonsense at all.
When Literary Nonsense is not Literary Nonsense
They knew the Coorow pigeons often indulged in literary nonsense which sometimes turned out to not be literary nonsense, so they’d prepared a big meal for us at the Cooma canteen.
It had gone cold a few times, as we’d taken longer than expected, but they were heating it up again now.
Image by KLW NFC via Flickr
We left Smiggin Holes where it was, and headed east on the dust sandy road. I thought we’d left the Lord of the Rings influence behind, but that was nonsense, because I was reminded of it again when we stopped for supper: a berry dal in Berridale.
Can Berryer in Canberra
We were berry impressed with the amount of berries in the dal, and it made us all feel much berrter after our Smiggin Holes ordeal.
So we thought we’d try to go through the pain berryer; making a long endurance journey just for another type of berry. Angry suggested trying Canberra, as he thought we could berryer there.
And you know what, he was right, you can berryer in Canberra; I thought it was a great use of Angry’s mind.
It didn’t take long before we were berrying an incrediberryble Canberra can of berries down into our bellies. I don’t know what type the Canberra berries were, maybe cranberries with the r left out, but they sure did taste good.
Missing Dairymans Plains Makes me Complains
We headed back down south once our berry ballooned bellies had settled down, but we made slow progress, and it was getting late as we approached Cooma.
I’d been regretting our decision not to sidetrack a little to Dairymans Plains, as it sounded good for a pint of milk, piece of cheese, creamy yoghurt or raspberry ripple. And there’d probably be more berries in the raspberry ripple?