Stops 27, 28 and 29

Dear Fate,

I have often wondered whether you exist. Are you karma, an energy directly relating to human action/reaction or are you more a God-controlled plan? If the former, then I guess the confessional booth is my next destination because my past sins have clearly caught up with me. My apologies. If the latter, God, I am really not amused.

I hope there is a reason I am in Mount Magnet. The idea of being here having learnt nothing except how to deal with idiots does not leave me with much hope. I have been dealing with idiots for many years and I do not believe that this skill needs to be worked upon. I much prefer the ‘avoid at all costs’ strategy.

So, if you could please contact me via email, phone or other telepathic communication channel with the specifics of your plan it would be greatly appreciated. If I do not pick up the phone, just leave a message.

Sincerely yours,

Kate Zarb


So, dear friends, I can barely remember where I was when I last wrote here so forgive me if there are gaps. Oh wait, you won’t know if there are gaps because I have not updated. Damn.

I think I was in Perth.

Perth, for those who have not been there, can be described as the following: Smaller than Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, bigger than Hobart and only marginally bigger than Adelaide. It has many buildings, most used for business and enough tourist spots to keep you busy for a maximum of two days. Otherwise, it is about as exciting as reading Dostoyevsky. It is something you have to say you have done, but you wouldn’t do twice.

It did not help that I had my phone stolen on my second night by a fellow backpacker who snuck it out of my bag whilst I slept. *grumbles*

The only two redeeming features of Perth were the Nick Cave exhibition at the Museum of WA and a Scottish girl named Robyn.

Both were a bit ‘goth’ and thoroughly entertaining.

So after a week I packed my bags and headed ‘south’ to Fremantle - about an hour away on the train and a lovely spot. Arty, filled with op-shops and enough people to make the blood pump but not enough to make the heart race. “Pinakarri” is an urban housing co-operative consisting of ten or so families (mainly single mothers) who formed a group of small townhouses on a suburban block and live communally at times and privately at others, depending on everybody’s mood. I really enjoyed it. There was many a night with bongo playing and wine a-plenty. Who can complain about that?

My job hunting was going slowly, so my initial stay grew from one week, to two, to three, until I decided that I was going to take the first job I was offered and do anything to keep travelling.

Why!?

The first job I was offered was as a barmaid in the Mount Magnet Hotel. Staying true to my promise, the next day I was on the bus headed ten hours north to a failing mining town; population 700.

Yes, yes. I can hear you say, “But Kate, what did you expect?” and sure I will admit - I did not expect much. So, imagine my surprise when it even failed to meet my lowest expectations.

I will not go into details. So far, I have been able to weave some hilarity through the many strange encounters throughout my journey. I will admit, I have left out huge chunks of boredom, compromise and uncomfortable beds to give you an overview of the last few months.

Let’s hope I can find some hilarity in this place that Fate, Karma or simply circumstance has placed me. If not, I am out of here because a place without hilarity is not a place I want to be.

I will pour the next beer for you.

XO Kate

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