I’ve always lived close to a coastline, and most Australian cities are situated near one. Historic sailing routes often ended at ports with fertile soil, freshwater, and safe anchorages. Colonies settled, families grew, and towns and cities evolved with the passage of time.
But Australia has a mighty desert right at its heart. Almost all of the Australian interior is dry, a stark contrast to the watery scenery that the city folk are used to.
I lived in Brisbane, a coastal city — for over three decades. Whenever vacation time came around, I, like many other holiday-makers, travelled to other coastal cities. I never once thought about going to the Outback. That place was for farmers and film-makers. The only time I saw the Outback was on television or at the movies.
But in ’07, I hit the road to see our Aussie centre and see what Australian movies showed the rest of the world. I camped. I drove. I breathed in the bulldust. I got hot and sweaty, drove for five hours, and never saw another soul. There’s a lot of space out there in Outback Australia.
Like the native wildlife in the Outback, older Aussies (Grey nomads) who move about the interior do so according to the seasons. When it’s hot and wet in the north, they head south. When it gets too cold in the south, they return to the warmth in the north. They do this every year. Recently, younger people have enjoyed taking the road to do the same and discovering the mystery of the Outback in what they call gap years.
I get it. I do. I now understand why they enjoy being so far away from the bustle of city life and coastal lifestyles. In my ’07 trip and my ’13 trip across the Nullabor Plains, I found a deep sense of isolation in the Outback. It’s profound. It’s not like pandemic isolation, where one is locked into a space with running water, streaming movies and access to social media. There’s none of that out there. There’s nothing but a big sky and lots of space. Space from each other. Space from routine. Space from the city comforts. All that white city noise disappears when you’re at the edges of existence in the Outback. You can listen to your soul. You can hear the heartbeat of the land.
It’s a pretty world out there, but it sure is desolate. I like that. I certainly like living in a lucky but unforgiving country.
-Michael
Discover more from Michael Forman – Author of Dark Fiction & Drama
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