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Published: April 30th 2006
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Bundy Cricket Club
The Bundalaguah Cricket Club was established in 1921. The club is one of the most successful in Gippsland and was the old stomping ground of first class players Travis Birt, Ian Wrigglesworth, David Shepherd and Nathan King. These are the humble yet homely club rooms. When I explained to Matt Mulcahy that I was going to travel around Australia, the first question he asked was, ‘where are you starting?’ When I casually replied, ‘Bundalaguah,’ he shrugged his shoulders, took a sip of his beer and said, ‘where else’.
Bundalaguah is a small farming community in East Gippsland between Maffra and Sale. It consists of a dozen or more farms, a school, a cricket ground and plenty of beer-stocked fridges. The Simpson family first came to know of the place in the late 70s when Ian and his terry towling hat ventured up the Princess Highway with a Richmond CC team to play a practice clash against the locals. Dad was lucky enough to stay with Neil and Marion Wrigglesworth upon whose property the cricket club stands and, as people do when they meet Neil and Marion, he struck up a life long friendship. I was lucky enough to spend time up here with Neil, Marion and their 3 sons Geoff, Greg and Trevor as I grew up over the years and thoroughly enjoyed every stay. So for me, Bundalaguah was an obvious starting point for my trip.
With that small blurb out of the
Yep, She's a Bewdy
I decided to buy this John Deere Tractor as a little souvenir. Buggered if I know how I'm gonna fit it into my pack. way…
Today was the RDO (Rural Day Off, aka Sunday) so I thought I’d take the opportunity to make my first entry in the white shorts (away from home). I first heard of the Sunday RDO a few years back but Neil explained to me today that when you’re semi-retired like he is, all days ending in ‘Y’ are RDOs if you really want. Having said that, Neil has worked out that even if you're semi-retired, if you do everything at half pace you still have a full time job. He drives down the paddock at 30kph, takes 40 minutes for morning break, 2 hours for lunch and stops at the neighbours for coffee when time permits. Consequently I haven’t had much trouble keeping up.
So anyway, I left Melbourne on Wednesday arvo after a couple of days of final farewells and mixed emotions. Jason saw me off at ‘The Station Formerly Known As Spencer Street’ which was nice of him. Jase being Jase it was a pretty emotional time for all concerned. As he waved his white handkerchief on the platform and I realised it would be a long time before I saw him again the tears started to well in my eyes. But when the train pulled out and Jason ran down the platform shouting goodbyes the tears of sorrow suddenly turned to tears of laughter as he ran into a light post. Okay, so slapstick comedy isn’t as funny when you write it but hey, just trying to lighten the mood.
The last few days have been a whole lotta fun. During daylight hours I have done stuff like dug holes, shovelled sh*t (it was a pleasant change from writing it!) set stairs on the woolshed, herded and drenched cattle and marked calves. Now all this sounds pretty innocuous, but I should probably warn you (before you agree to go out and help your local farmer) that marking calves is actually a quaint little rural euphemism for cutting their balls off. I didn’t play a major role in this but I did have to help head clamp the young bulls and hold their tail back while Greg gave them the old snip snip. There were a couple of other blokes who helped out in the arvo - Baker and Tyson. Tyson was a typical, young, happy-go-lucky country kid while Baker was the wily old veteran with 370 games of Sale-Maffra football under his belt and probably about as many local women to boot. In the arvo session Tyson had the pleasure of holding the tails while Baker was cutting so I got a chance to sneak around the back and check out the technique (just in case there are blokes spending too much time around Bec when I return to Melbourne). Tyson must’ve noticed my grimace and said, ‘You next Simmo?’ Then Baker piped up, ‘may as well get it done before your trip - it’ll save you a lot of trouble mate.’ I love country humour - especially when you’ve only known the blokes for five minutes!
Now Chris Judd might’ve had a good game on Saturday, but I had an absolute Field Day. The 23rd Annual Bairnsdale Field Day to be precise (nice segue? I thought so). Neil and I ventured east to the Bairnsdale Aerodrome and saw more tractors, ploughs, livestock, tools, mowers, work wear and food than you could poke a stick at or put one foot on top of and say 'yep, she's a real bewdy this one.' Me being me, little of what I saw meant much to me, but I thoroughly enjoyed the day. The weather was perfect, there were kids and families buzzing around, old bands playing country music, blokes in cowboy hats and everyone seemed to be having a good time. I purchased a $150 000 John Deere Tractor as a souvenir (see picture).
The nights have been spent as all nights are spent at the Wrigglesworth's: having Marion’s Lamb Shank Broth for entrée, talking about cricket, drinking a beer with Neil, having a roast dinner, talking about farming, drinking a bourbon with Trevor, having chocolate pudding, ice-cream, cream and sponge cake for desert, talking about cricket, having biscuits for supper, talking about the drought, having a bundy rum with Greg and lastly having a Muscat with Neil while exchanging a few final words on the topic of cricket before retiring for a well earned shut-eye. If I don’t start working harder I will be the size of a small barn by the time I leave here!
Anyway, that’s all for now. In a nutshell I’ve been having a ball so far. Please all keep me posted as to what you are all up to. I’ll fill you in on other goings on in days to come.
All the breast.
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Geeves
non-member comment
Astounded
Simmo, your linguistic skills are impressive. Looking forward to your next entry. Its not often i get to have a laugh whilst at work. Sure, pulling cones behind the school gym with the year 9 girls is a laugh. But marijuana only last so long.