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Published: January 16th 2011
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A friendly localHalf of the state of Queensland is underwater, it is freak flooding and lives have been lost, very sad. We are camping out in the little van; the rain is relentless and is pounding down upon us and we have sprung a leak, or to be precise, a few leaks. A dribble soon becomes a steady flow. The small town we are in is called and is in the mountains not far from Brisbane. It is a lovely little place and has a strong community feel. The library is buzzing and here I can buy second hand books from the sale table for the equivalent of 30p as well as browse the internet for free. There are lots of nice cafes including an arts bar where older and younger people come together to listen to live folk music whilst dining in the candle light. There is a DVD shop doing great deals and a café serving excellent coffee and handmade Ice cream. It could be worse.
We got a tarp’ to go across the van and our lovely caravanning neighbours kindly lent us there heater for two days to dry out all our clothes. The Obi obi creak next
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Misty moist mountains to our camping ground- which doubles up as the local show ground/ tennis court/ gym/ fire station- has become a gushing brown torrent; it’s no exaggeration and has risen dramatically in the space of a day. Ankle deep in muddy grass (trying not to think about the leaches) we assist with filling and tying sandbags to be dispersed around the community.
Over two days we had imagined a rustling sound but had put it down to the wind, until it became so loud the next night that it woke Arnaud from his slumber. The next day we were putting all our shopping away, with precision we wrapped it in plastic or stashed it in tubs. There was nowhere for the sliced loaf so Arny stuffed it in the glove compartment, an ideal place we thought. He sits himself down to read the paper, no sooner, loud rustling. I manage to pinpoint it to the glove compartment, and sure enough, in the light of my torch, a little brown ratty fellow right on top of the loaf looking at me sheepishly. He couldn’t believe his luck that we had put a whole loaf of bread in to his home! Huh,
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On the way to our lovely little mountain village to get stuck for a week. what to do. It stared for a second whist I contemplated then darted of in to the dashboard and we were cussing.
We popped out for a DVD whilst we tried to concoct a plan. On our return Arnaud gets back to setting some sort of homemade trap fashioned with a plastic bag and a slice of bread whilst I sit myself down on the bed to wait. Then, out of the corner of my eye in the low light, is that a ratty silhouette or am I hallucinating? There he was hanging behind a thin bar in the back of the van as still as can be in the vain attempt to not be seen. It was actual funny to see the little rat acting like something out of a cartoon, as if I wouldn’t see him there! We tried to catch him in the sieve but he was quick the little fellow and made haste in to our wardrobe (a compartment under the seats). Arnaud managed to catch him by the tail eventually and we sent him off to a new life in the wheelie bin. Five minutes later feeling heinously guilty, we sent a couple of
slices of bread in after him, oh dear we are soppy folk.
The rain has stopped, a break in the clouds, sunshine, yay! Off to Fraser Island…….
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joan dacke
non-member comment
Ratatouille
Hi Emm I loved your ratatouille story. Lovely photos but a worrying scenario, especially for our friends in Toowoomba, the centre of which has been destroyed, but who have survived relatively unscathed. I can hardly believe you are in a disaster area. 'The best laid plans' etc., but hopefully you will have better luck up north, although I can't imagine what the roads and terrain are like. Anyway, bon voyage. Love mumX