Bendoc in 1991 was a stop for a few years. The area was lush. However, by the end of 1991 not one leaf was allowed to be moved from where it fell.
Life became interesting as there were basically two professions. Those who lived off the land [ farmers or sawmillers] and those 'others' The tree-loving vegan oriented peoples.
The commonplace to meet was the local pub.
Trapped beyond the memoriesWell, I for one was not one of these people. Instead The children, Raymond and I were like trapped tourists in town.
Trapped in the sense that there was a time when we were traveling around the countryside and suddenly we were not traveling. A truck had sideswiped the van and there was no more travel.
But when you speak with an accent from another country, your children do not then attend a school in the area and you wear a leather hat, with 'partner' who happens to work with a local saw miller there are bound to be a clash or two somewhere.
Common ground was found thereTypical of the country people though the hands were reached out by the woman folk. They sensed some saw, the underlying blankness within me.
Other than the emergency people, the local policeman and the driver of the truck none else knew what had happened. This was one of those times where officialdom kept quiet. No one knew me. Noone had the internet [ this lifesaver of the future [ wikileaks in the making] was not out of major cities yet.]
The next trip to Bendoc was includedMany years later after the youngest had left home for a while. The trip back from Canberra, through Bendoc to Churchill, was made.
Find Bendoc here
There were a few memories that are now being shared. Before once again I head up that way. Because the years went by. Our friends have both gone beyond The next thing I heard in 2020 was Bendoc was on fire.