Looking Around Broken Hill

                                  

                                   Royal Exchange Hotel Broken Hill

After arriving and having a day or two of rest, it was time to look over this very historic town. The Broken Hill area was started by pastoral farmers in the 1850s. The actual town was founded as a mining town in the 1880s. Of course, native people had inhabited the area for tens of thousands of years, but who is counting. They never made permanent camps because of the lack of water so the Europeans knew the land belonged to them because they wanted it.


The town itself is not very large; the 2011 estimate is just over 20,000 people here with no mention of the number of wallabies or feral goats. Feral goats seem to be the most populous of animals in the area. They seem to thrive on the scrub brush and multiply like rabbits, or even better. The people, not so much. Less than 300 babies were born last year in the entire western ranges of New South Wales.

The town is clean and the streets are very well taken care of by whoever does that. Most streets are four lanes wide as they had much room when the town was laid out. However, the earliest houses are very small, by our standards, and crowded close together. It would remind you of Britain or continental Europe which shouldn't be a surprise as the working class people are the ones who lived in these houses. As we are coming back to the late 1800 mindset toward workers in our country, the "ruling class" of those days thought of workers as just another tool for them to use to gain wealth.
                                   
                                             Trades Hall - 1921   

There is a monument in the middle of town which is to the women of Broken Hill who "stood by their man.”

Too long of a story to tell here but the women of Broken hill organized, more than once, to support their men and gain enough to be able to actually live and support a family. Conditions back at the turn of the 19th century into the 20th were worse than grim.
                                                 
                                                  Monument to Women's Brigade

Other than being cold all the time it is pleasant to walk around Broken Hill. There is a mall out west of town but their main shopping area seems to be thriving. It is almost like stepping back in time; a busy Main Street, people nodding and speaking to you and friendly merchants.

The common greeting is “ ‘Ow yer goin’?” Not many use the “G’day” greeting here to me as I am a stranger, I guess, but it is still alive even if this isn’t Sydney. Aussies have a very fast speech pattern and out here more speak “Stryne” than don’t, so I have difficulty figuring out what they said. After making a small purchase I was asked by a teenage clerk, “Izthettheluot?” in a high pitched voice up in the soprano range. She had her pretty head ducked, as I am not at all good looking, and had to repeat it twice. On her next try she asked, “Iz theah ennytheeng aelse?” By that time her first question had filtered through and I understood it and bravely said, “No, thanks.” She smiled at the retarded old man and gave me change. Similar scenes have been played out several times. When they get excited and start talking they talk as fast as an America teenager.

They do love their sports here. I love Aussie rules footie (football) and watch as often as I can. It is a strange sport to an American and I don’t think our footie players could stand a chance against a good Aussie Rules team. It has to be seen to be believed but imagine a player running as hard as he can and being tackled by 3 or 4 opponents as hard as they can. None of them are wearing anything but game shorts and sleeveless shirts. They can also kick the ball 50 – 80 meters while running full tilt.

It is faster than soccer, rougher than gridiron, more complex than Rugby and makes no sense to anyone other than an Aussie. The team I was barracking for lost one match by 103 points.

The coach quit during the next game.

       
                         

The joys of travel

      Getting from there to here is sometimes not too delightful. I do enjoy traveling, as you probably know, but this last trip left my nerves in  a state of exhaustion. Realizing that different cultures do things differently, I am prepared for some "bumps" in the road, as it were. However, unnecessary bumps leave me with a bad taste in my travel-mouth.
      I am in Broken Hill, New South Wales, Australia and, "yes, I have been here before." This trip was somewhat better than the other trips to Australia as I did not have to go to nor spend even a minute in Los Angeles International. I believe its name is Tom Brady airport,  but who is counting. I flew from Dallas which was great for me. The people at customs were friendlier and I know the Dallas airport a lot  better.
      I must say, parenthetically, that Tulsa is still a pain. There is no place for us old guys (or boot guys or anyone) to sit to take off our shoes which makes it pretty difficult if one is not a retired acrobat. I have mentioned this to them before so you can see the influence I have had. Perhaps a letter to the editor is in order. Hmm, wonder if it would be printed?
      If one isn't too busily wrapped up in one's self there are many interesting things and people to react with whilst traveling. I saw a large group of smallish children all in purple T-shirts in the Dallas airport. As I walked past I approached the man with them and asked if they were middle school kids. He replied they were and we struck up a conversation. I  had just purchased a sandwich as my lunch was very light and I wouldn't eat again until midnight, some hours away. I should have kept walking after the initial contact as I barely got to finish my sandwich before boarding. The man was traveling with 39 seventh graders and four women, he needed somone to talk to.
      This part will be hard for some to believe, the part where I actually left a chance to talk to a stranger and an adult at that. He had lots to say and kept getting between me and the sitting area. Finally I said that we could sit "over there" and talk. We did and I found that the Japanese, and most oriental people, were rude and thoughtless. Wow! I was glad to know that as I assumed people are pretty much as you meet them. Most of the time they mirror what they see in you.
      Then he acted like I was delaying him and he signed off and went back to his group. I was able to go get some water then. Wheew. Oh, his group was headed to Sydney on a people to people program.
      Sometimes luck is with you. My seat companion was a very cute young lady heading home to Melbourne. She was almost cute enough to be one of my granddaughters and also very bright. She and I talked and laughed and joked for a long while . Then after eating she zonked out and slept the rest of the night. As we talked, the next morning, she told me her father told her to take two Advil P M and she could sleep. It worked for her so all of you take note. I hope to try them on the way home as I did not sleep at all.
      We landed in Brisbane which is not pronounced BrisBAINE as most Americans call it. It is pronounced like mountain, i.e. mountun, or fountun. Not mounTAINE or founTAINE. (Glad I could straighten you out on that. It will be important the next time you are on a quiz show.)
      We went through  strict security at Brisbane and the middle schoolers lost their freshly purchased Dr. peppers. I lost my water bottle from the flight. Then at Sydney we all went through security again and then through customs. It was not a fun experience given the fact that we had landed 35 minutes late, had to get luggage which took two forevers, make our way through customs.......
      I'll conclude this part later. It was the stressful part and may have some good information for you.
        Until next time.