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Rental crisis raises risk of homelessness

rental-crisis-homelessness — A roof over your head (eventually). Image by www.pixabay.com,

This topic was sparked by news from a near-neighbour who had received the dreaded ‘landlord requires vacant possession’ letter.

All tenants go into a lease today knowing that the landlord can decide to sell the property, at which point they will be evicted. A lot of landlords have been doing that over the last two years, taking a profit as property prices spiralled.

The rental vacancy figures in this town and just about everywhere else would suggest that once a rental property is sold, it disappears from the rental pool – at least for a while. The national rental vacancy is 1.2% – at a time when analysis of Census housing data suggests that 700,000 private dwellings are locked up and uninhabited. More on that later.

We all know people who are renting and finding it increasingly difficult to feed their families. In recent months, there have been many stories in the media about families struggling to find a place to live. Those who find themselves at the end of a lease with no new home in the pipeline are at risk of becoming homeless.

Even when we are told the reasons for the shortage of housing, solutions are less obvious. Mostly due to self-belief and a strong self-image, some people caught between a lapsing rental and a tight vacancy rate will find their way round it.

It isn’t hard to find caravan parks, farm-stays and outback tourism ventures that need residential caretakers. The successful candidates get to park their vans for free and quite possibly pick up a small stipend as well.

People in these circumstances (a) do not regard themselves as homeless and (b) they can enjoy the luxuries afforded by a 22 ft caravan and an annexe.

June quarter data from CoreLogic shows that Australia’s rental market continues to tighten as low supply levels cause national vacancy rates to dive. Rents continued to rise across all capital cities and property types over the past three months.

Dwelling rents in the June quarter were 9.1% higher across the capital cities and up 10.8% in regional areas, compared to June 2021.

CoreLogic report author Kaytlin Ezzy said the recent upwards trend in rents has occurred mostly in the absence of overseas migration.

“This sustained period of strong rental growth has seen national dwellings record the highest annual growth in rental values since December 2008, when rental demand was supported by record levels of international migration,” Ms Ezzy said.

Vacancy rates across national dwellings fell to a record low of 1.2%, down from 2.2% this time last year.

In March, CoreLogic contributed to a report in The Guardian that found rents in Queensland had risen by as much as $200 a week over the previous two years.

The report found that steep rent rises in parts of Queensland forced people into caravans, sheds and poverty – even before widespread flooding displaced thousands more people.

While the ABS has released 2021 Census housing data, it will be “early to mid-2023” until we see the homelessness data. The most recent official data was collected in 2016 and released a year later. The homeless tally then was 116,427.

The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW) estimates that in 2020–21, around 278,300 people received assistance from Specialised Homelessness Services (SHS). Around 111,100 clients were homeless when they first began support.

There are different categories of homelessness, apart from those who literally have nowhere to go and end up sleeping rough or in a charitable shelter. Then there are people living in sheds, garages and other unconventional buildings, couch surfing (staying with friends), hostels and unsuitable temporary accommodation.

Since late 2019, the onset of the Covid pandemic, the escalating price of real estate and an ever-increasing scarcity of rental properties has unquestionably added more individuals and families to the homeless tally. There is an increasing cohort of ‘hidden homeless’, that is people who are either not eligible to apply for support or feel they do not need it.

In Australia, some of these people head for the great outdoors. Accommodation demand driven by ‘Grey Nomads’ has produced hundreds of free camps and low-priced camp-grounds run by local show societies. The free roadside reserves, which may nor may not have a toilet/and or shower, usually have rules about how long you can stay. In Tasmania, many free camps allow you to stay for up to a month.

.Everyone’s circumstances are different, but we have met many people who had sold their house and bought a road rig. Many of the so-called Grey Nomads are retired tradies and public servants who can afford a $200,000 self-contained rig and go on the road for months at a time.

But if you travel the country and stay in free camps, you are just as likely to see a couple living in a 30-year-old caravan towed by an equally ancient car.

The big problem waiting for Australia’s new Prime Minister to tackle (after he has settled down our Pacific neighbours), is the housing crisis.

Believe me – it is a crisis. There are simply not enough houses to go around. This is particularly so in Queensland, where interstate migration has put the housing sector under massive strain.

There are reasons for the dire shortage of housing and they include delays in building new homes amid adverse weather in 2022. Then there are homes destroyed by floods or bushfires.

But as residential property analyst Michael Matusik discovered, the housing shortage is in part due to some 700,000 private dwellings that are “deliberately left vacant”.

Matusik reached this conclusion after analysing 2021 Census housing data, which showed there were one million unoccupied dwellings in Australia (about 10% of the country’s private residential accommodation).

The ABS defines unoccupied dwellings as: holiday homes (for owner’s use or rented out); investment properties without a tenant; newly built but vacant dwellings; habitable dwellings being renovated and/or vacant dwellings for sale or lease.

Matusik wrestled with those categories and calculated that after discounting the latter, 700,000 unoccupied dwellings were investment properties that were locked up rather than tenanted.

“Many of the unoccupied dwellings are in capital cities, especially Sydney and Melbourne where more apartments are in the dwelling mix,” Matusik wrote in his regular subscriber bulletin, Matusik Missive. “In these cities the proportion of overseas buyers, especially from Asia, and particularly from China, is the highest in the country.

“It is somewhat safe to say that something like 70% of the unoccupied dwellings across Australia are deliberately locked up.

“Assuming past immigration levels return, then there is a need to build some 150,000 new dwellings across Australia each year.

“If we could unlock these 700,000 empty homes, we would not need to build a new home for 4.5 years.”

While admitting this is ‘fantasy land’, Matusik says that any move to open up these dwellings would go a long way to improving short-term dwelling supply.

As we approach National Homelessness Week (August 1-7), some agencies will no doubt be calling for an earlier release of Census data on the homeless.

I asked the peak body, Homelessness Australia, for a comment; but remembered it was de-funded by the Federal Government in 2014. When one of their volunteers gets back to me, I’ll include their comment.

For now I’ll say that however bad the news is, it is better that we know sooner than later.

Impressions of Tasmania Part 2

impressions-tasmania-two — A lucky sunset shot coming in to Port of Melbourne

If you have a yen to go to Tasmania, here’s three key pieces of advice. Go in spring or autumn, take clothing and footwear for all seasons and, most importantly, allow more time than we had (18 days).

I’m taking up the travelogue as we arrived for three days in Hobart (having arranged to drop our car into the dealers to troubleshoot a faulty sensor). We checked in to the Hobart showgrounds, a spacious complex close to the city.

After luckily finding a good ‘local’ breakfast cafe in the city, we set off on a day tour of Hobart. The double-decker bus found its way into some tight spots (a lookout at Battery Point). Our driver informed us that Battery Point has the country’s most expensive real estate (per square metre). We spent an hour at the Royal Tasmanian Botanical Gardens, a compact but very beautiful oasis with a Japanese garden (and an ice cream van we didn’t manage to find). We went to the Cascades and heard all about an early settler, Peter Degraves, who had a plan to use the crystal clear water from the Cascade springs to build a brewery.

He formed this plan while doing time in Hobart gaol for fraud. On his release in the early 1830s he set about building the Cascade Brewery, which is still operating, producing beers and non-alcoholic beverages. It is not only a working brewery but a tourist attraction.

In the afternoon we headed off on a catamaran which took us to one of Hobart’s modern curiosities, MONA (Museum of new and old art). The catamaran ride was splendid, sailing at speed under the Tasman Bridge, catching sight of Australia’s $529 million icebreaker, Nuyina, which is based in Hobart. (Ed: The boat ride was nice – MONA was pretentious, IMHO)

Saturday was a day of highlights. First a day trip through the beautiful Huon Valley to Geeveston where friends introduced us to a gourmet café, The Old Bank, which serves local game dishes. Go there! In the late afternoon we set off to Rosny, which is a nearby suburb of Hobart where songwriter Fred Smith was performing that night. Fred recruited a local band to present his latest concert about Afghanistan, which includes the evacuation of 4000+ people with Australian visas from Kabul Airport. It’s a harrowing audio-visual presentation with images, videos and Fred’s narration, coupled with his insightful songs about Afghanistan and Afghans.

On Sunday we set off for Port Arthur. Like all road journeys in Tasmania, the distances are short but the roads require more careful, slower driving than we are used to on the mainland. I’d not been to Port Arthur before, but the ruins of the convict colony are evocative and the guides are knowledgeable. This is one place where you could spend an extra day, as the ticket to the historic site is also good for the following day. There’s such a lot to take in.

On balance, our colonial forebears treated convicts as brutally as they slaughtered the indigenous people of Tasmania. The cat of nine tails, which was traditionally steeped in sea water so crusts would form on the knots, was a particularly barbarous instrument of punishment. It was not uncommon for convicts to receive 100 lashes. Some of them died as a result. It’s not hard to conjure up the atmosphere when this place was home to 2,000 people, including 1,200 criminals we’d call recidivists (re-offenders) today.

From Port Arthur we drove up the fabled East Coast with its scenic wonders and wildlife. On advice from a friend we stopped at Eaglehawk Neck, a narrow isthmus containing another convict relic. An officer’s garrison was built at Eaglehawk Neck to capture convicts trying to escape Port Arthur. The Dogline at the narrowest part of the neck is where a line of ferocious dogs patrolled to prevent convicts escaping. We also took in a couple of spectacular blow-holes which are common on the Tasman coast.

Mayfield Beach Conservation Area, east coast Tasmania

We were aiming for Swansea but accidentaily ended up at a lovely free camp at Mayfield Beach. The Mayfield Beach Conservation Area was quite popular but we managed to manoeuvre our van into a site under some trees. It was right next to the road but after 7pm there was so little traffic it was not an issue. The park is maintained by park rangers but is in fact a scenic reserve. There are loads of places like this around Tassie and the best part is that, unlike a lot of Queensland free camps, you can stay for 2, 3 or even 4 weeks. (The Mayfield Beach camp sign says in small letters that merely moving to a different site after 30 days is not permitted).

Next day we did tourist stops at Kate’s Berry Farm, a popular place for people who appreciate good coffee and blackberry jam. Then we went to a strange place called Spiky Bridge. It is part of the infrastructure built by convicts with the aim of thwarting overland escape from Port Arthur.

Later we took the steep walk to the lookout at Wineglass Bay, admiring the young couple who took a two-year-old girl and a baby in a backpack to the top and back again. Those kids will grow up loving the wilderness and never know why. The mother took our photo up there, while we were trying hard to look as if we had got our breath back, given the so-so cardio fitness of a pair of 73-year-olds. Friends who have done this walk in the past tell us it used to be a rock scramble to the top. No fancy lookout and safety barriers then.

A Tasmanian devil, posing ever so nicely

We stopped the night at Bicheno at a caravan park because the Coles Bay national park camp site was full. The bonus was we could spend a good few hours at Natureworld, with its well-stocked aviaries, local fauna and a disease-free colony of Tasmanian Devils. We got there in time to watch these ugly critters fighting over a kangaroo tail. Been there, got the T-shirt. (Ed: they were a bit cute – like a Staffie!).

We ended up staying in a caravan park again at St Helen’s when, if we’d thought about it, we could have travelled into the Bay of Fires and stayed at one of the many free camps on the beach. Ah well. We had a jolly fine day trip including a walk along the beach from Walsh’s Lagoon. You can walk the whole 11km from Binalong Point to Eddistone Point along the the Bay of Fires. The walk is mainly along the beach but the trek implies a bit of organisation in a group with a car at either end. Bay of Fires is distinguished from other beaches by its orange granite rocks (the colour is caused by lichen. There are also ancient middens along this trail, evidence of indigenous settlement. We reached the northerly terminating road (The Gardens) near sunset which is the right time to be there although there was a bite to the wind.

We got chatting to a guy with a vintage Chev truck built on a Holden chassis with a V8 engine. He was on his way to a hot rod rally at Ulverstone near Devonport. The things people spend money on, eh!

Next day we set off on a hilly winding road to Scottsdale, stopping along the way at the Pyengana Cheese factory (recommended) where we had freshly made scones with home-made butter and cream. We bought our rellies some cheese to go with their Huon pine cheese board.

From there we drove on to one of Tasmania’s famous short walks – St Columba Falls. It is a short, east walk apart from a bit of downhill to the lookout. Because Tassie’s been in a drought the tallest falls in the State were not roaring like they usually do. but spectacular none the less.

The 15 minute walk goes through myrtle and sassafras groves with an under story of ferns, moss and fungi. Later on the drive we stopped at Weldsborough to check out an ancient myrtle grove with the ubiquitous understory of moss, fungi and ferns, Very dark and prehistoric.

impressions-of-tasmania-two — Old growth forest in north-east Tasmania

Not everything in Tasmania looks like that. Earlier in the day I tried (and failed) to take a ‘Tasmanian Mullet’ photo – where the lower slopes of a steep hill had been clear felled for pasture, leaving forest remnants clinging to the top, like a monk’s tonsure.

The hilly drive to Scottsdale, east of Launceston, goes through the town of Derby which has become famous among mountain bike enthusiasts. There are several bike shops there which hire bikes and take riders in tour buses to the many organised trails through the hills.

We stayed at a free camp in Scottsdale, Northeast Park, which is named after George Northeast who first established a community pool and reserve there in the 1930s. The project was taken up again in the 1980s by the local Lions group who did a lot of work establishing picnic facilities and tracks for walkers and cyclists.

On our way to Devonport we stopped in at Sheffield, known as the town of murals, to catch up with friends. Saturday morning we queued to board the Spirit of Tasmania for a day voyage. The thoughtful people at Devonport provide a toilet for people sitting in their cars waiting to board. Four stars! And five stars to Bass Strait which turned on one of its swell-less days for a smooth voyage. We arrived in Melbourne at 8.30pm and then navigated our way through the suburbs to a caravan park in Coburg. (Ed: night driving on a Melbourne freeway not recommended when towing a van). t was the weekend of the Grand Prix so the van park was full and it took a while to sort out where we were supposed to park. But by 9.30 were set up – exhausted and ready for bed.

The journey home was Melbourne to Albury, then to Cowra which has a Japanese prisoner of war cemetery and a Japanese garden. On to Dunedoo where we ran into friends who were on their way to the National Folk Festival. Somewhere along the road I got a call from well-known folk singer Bob Fagan to say that my song, ‘When Whitlam took his turn at the wheel’, was this year’s recipient of the Alistair Hulett Songs for Social Justice award. It was presented at the National Folk Festival’s closing concert (in my absence). My songwriter friend Ross Clark who accepted the award on my behalf, has since been sending me photos of the award (like a garden gnome) posed in various locations as he travelled back to Brisbane.

I’ll leave you with this image, from Cowra Showgrounds, with a flotilla of road rigs (ours on the left) lined up ready for a 5am getaway. These are just a few of the 800,000 registered recreational vehicles on Australian roads. As the ABC reported this week, those on the road include families seeking lifestyle changes and ditching the school system after lengthy pandemic lockdowns and restrictions. Many are on the road permanently, both for reasons of lifestyle and necessity (more on that next week).

So that’s our land and sea return journey to Tasmania, some 6,500 kilometres in 30 days. Now you know why we needed to shout ourselves a night at Armidale’s Moore Park Inn and dinner at Archie’s restaurant on the last night. Hang the expense.
(all photos by Bob & Laurel Wilson)

PS: Last Saturday I got a call from an 03 number. I ignored it, as you do, but the number left a voice mail. It was a friendly young woman from TT-Line Company, better known as the Spirit of Tasmania. Had I lost anything on my recent holiday, Sally asked? ‘Ah, yeh, I still haven’t found my teblet’, I said, realising that when I’m anxious I revert to Kiwi. After a few key questions (make, size, colour), Sally asked for my pass code. It must be a different one to the one I use at home because it wouldn’t open. Not to be thwarted, Sally asked me if I had another email address (I do). I deduced she’d spotted my Gmail address when she tried to turn it on. I’m expecting it back any day now.

Homeless or “Houseless”

homelessness-grey-nomads — Goondiwindi Showground at dusk, photo Bob Wilson

I felt obliged to write about the vexed topic of homelessness after witnessing people sleeping rough in Queensland’s small towns. It shouldn’t happen, but it does.

The stereotype of a homeless person is the hobo asleep in the doorway of a city store, worldly goods in two carrier bags as a pillow. The reality is closer to an unhappy teenager, couch surfing with friends, or an 60+ women in a van on her own. Or Mum and two kids living in their car in a small town where they are less likely to be hassled. She’s cooking stew on a two-ring propane stove at the local park while using a public power point to charge her mobile. The kids are running about, being kids.

As we all should know, the official data (at the last Census in 2016), confirmed there were 116,000 people in Australia who were defined as homeless. However, the Australian Homelessness Monitor 2020 estimated the numbers had climbed to 290,000 by the close of 2018-2019 – that’s one in 86 people.

Queensland has big challenges when it comes to helping the homeless. The state is so physically large (1.835 million square kilometres) that social workers can sometimes rack up a 1,300 km round trip just to see one client.

This FOMM started forming after we watched the Academy Award winning movie, Nomadland, on Sunday night.

Emerging into a chilly early evening I said, “Better get home and light a fire,” despite being well aware our cosy brick house doesn’t yet need much heating (Warwick recorded 1degree Celsius last night-Ed).

Nomadland, if you have not seen it, is a docu-drama focusing on a 61-year-old widow, Fern, who has joined the legions of people known in the US as van-dwellers. Fern has been hit by a quadruple whammy: husband dies, factory closes, job goes, town is abandoned.

Left with a house she cannot sell, Fern hits the road in a beat-up van she has modified for her own purposes.

In Australia she’d be known as a Grey Nomad, although as in the US there are two distinct classes of traveller. First there are the well-to-do nomads, able to afford a big road rig with all the trimmings. Most often they are self-funded retirees, letting their hair down after a lifetime working. In the US they’d probably be known as Snowbirds (wintering in Arizona).

The other type of nomad, perhaps like those portrayed in Nomadland, live permanently on the road, in whatever style of motor-home or caravan they can afford. Like Fern, these people do not regard themselves as homeless (so are therefore not a statistic).

They favour free camps, recreation reserves and roadside rest areas where local governments have sanctioned overnight stays.

Some just pull off into the bush, far enough away that they cannot be seen from the road. In Australia, free camps will usually have a toilet; some may have a shower and a few have electricity. Fees range from nothing to $10 or $15 a night, the latter usually only applying to camps that have power and showers.

So while we toured around playing at being nomads, in Nomadland, Fern lives permanently with these restrictions and more. In one scene she is tucked away in her camper van at night eating a pizza when a man creeps up and peers through the van window. Then he hammers on the door.

“You can’t park here!”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.”

In Australia, our version of van-dwellers gather together in large numbers at the better known “free” camps. They also favour the physical space and lack of bureaucracy found at local showgrounds. These facilities are popular with big rigs (buses, motor homes and fifth-wheelers). If you own such a vehicle it is hard to find a caravan park which can accommodate an 8m-long van plus towing vehicle.

In Goondiwindi, I counted 50 rigs staying overnight at the showgrounds on the edge of town, close enough to the highway to hear the constant roar of heavy traffic. For $25 we got a powered site, TV reception and (as always out west), patchy mobile reception. There was a camp kitchen, toilets and showers and a separate toilet and shower with disabled access. Also the all-important dump point (for vans with chemical toilets).

Many small town showgrounds charge between $15 and $20 a night, less if not using power. It is often an honour system, with no way of knowing how many people came in after dark and left before dawn.

It’s probably impossible to establish how many Grey Nomads live permanently in their vans and own no real estate. They’re not homeless as long as the money holds out and the vehicle does not break down. As Fern explains to someone who is hiring casual staff – “No, I’m not homeless – I’m houseless.”

According to Tourism Research Australia, about 2.6 million Grey Nomad trips were taken by 55 to 70-year-old domestic travellers in 2019. This was up 12% on the previous year. As we found on our journey north in 2021, restrictions on international travel are accelerating this growth.

In a submission to the Inquiry into Homelessness in Australia, the Queensland Government stated that in 2018-19 , one in 116 people in the state received homelessness assistance.

“While this was much lower than the national rate of one in 86 people, it shows an increase from the previous year.”

The submission said that 55% of Housing Register applications had been identified as being at risk of homelessness.

Homelessness in Queensland is driven in part by housing affordability pressures, increased cost of living, stalling wages growth and welfare payments that don’t keep pace with the cost of living.

The majority of the 43,000 people seeking Special Homelessness Services (SHS) were spread among three cities (Brisbane, Townsville and Cairns) and seven regional centres.

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders accounted for 33% (14,432) of all those seeking SHS (40% men and 60% women).

The largest cohorts seeking help were people fleeing domestic and family violence (31%), people with mental health issues (27%) and young people aged 15-24 (20%). My demographic accounted for just 6% (2,676), men and women (50/50) aged between 55 and 70.

I always had this somewhat romantic notion that being homeless and sleeping rough in tropical Queensland might not be a hardship. I said as much in the lyrics of Big Country Town: “We caught the ferry back to Main Street, there’s fellas sleeping in the park, beneath the blanket of the summer, they’re safe and warm there in the dark.”

Well, maybe in the height of summer, but on this caravan trip we shivered through a few single figure nights. As many Grey Nomads would know, sub-zero night temperatures are common in the interior of the country.

Meanwhile, as autumn turns to winter in Warwick, charities are doing their best to fill the gaps in services for those suffering hardship. Volunteers from the Seventh Day Adventist Church take their Community Van to Leslie Park every Sunday evening. The Salvation Army organises a ‘community gathering’ every Saturday, offering “a free meal, a positive and practical message and friendship.” These well attended free meal sessions attract more people than one might expect in a town of 15,000. Until you remember than one in 116 Queenslanders were homeless in 2018-2019, and that was before the pandemic.

More reading

https://bobwords.com.au/tales-of-quarantine-and-homelessness/

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-04-17/queensland-homeless-crisis-rental-shelter/100074284

Footnote; The Conversation, which I often cite, is on a donation drive to ensure it can continue providing independent, academically sound, not-for-profit journalism. https://donate.theconversation.com/au

Keeping your distance – way out west

There’s a misleading headline for you – ‘way out west’. At best we were 400 kms from home at any one time. All the while, though, we were keeping our distance, as Premier Annastacia Palaszczuk encouraged us to do. Regardless, she also said we should to go forth and do tourist things in the State of Queensland. Spend money and support our small towns, the Premier said, while reminding us to meet COVID-19 restrictions. These include keeping 1.5m distance from other humans, washing your hands at every opportunity and avoiding Victorians like the plague. (I added that bit, just for a bit of colour.)

On the first day, we stopped for the few minutes it takes to navigate into the viewing enclosure built so tourists can enjoy the art work at the Yelarbon silos (above). The last time we drove from Warwick to Goondiwindi, this controversial project had not been completed. I include this link not to rake over old coals, rather to showcase the solid regional reporting that is at risk now that so many country news outlets have been shut down or relegated to online-only.

Before Yelarbon, our first stop on a 10-day circuit through western Queensland was Inglewood, where a wind chill made the noon temperature of 12 degrees feel like 5. We stopped at the Shot 2 U cafe for lunch, since our first day out was a day off for the cook. This cafe was serving takeaways and limiting the numbers of people who could be in the building at the same time. She Who Prefers Gluten Free found that this cafe ticked all of the boxes so we bought a container full of gluten-free, dairy-free brownies. It’s like the Premier keeps saying – go out into these small towns and spend some money. That’s not what they are saying in other States right now, but on the other hand, Queensland is/was COVID-free.

On we travelled to the Moonie Crossroads Roadhouse, where we parked our van and adjourned to the lounge for whatever was on the menu, while keeping our distance. The German tourist who works behind the bar happily found and served a piccolo of bubbles to celebrate Bastille Day. Next day, we set off on a short drive to Glenmorgan and Myall Park Botanic Garden. This 132ha property is privately owned and operated by a trust and contains many Grevillea species, bred and cultivated by the Gordon family. They named the best known of these species after their daughters – Robyn, Sandra and Melinda. It’s a wonderful little oasis of native flora and fauna which last year was at risk because of the effects of ongoing drought. Some 300mm of rain in February helped the property bounce back.

On our trek through Moonie, Glenmorgan, Roma, Theodore, Kilkiven, Maleny, Brisbane then home, we were followed in part by three single women of a certain age who decided on a short road trip for much the same reason as we did, ie to ‘get out of the house’. They travelled together in one car, stayed at motels, ate in restaurants or cafes and spotted rare sights like this ‘B-Triple’, on the road. (photo by Sandra Wilson).

Also taking a break from four walls were Brisbane friends we bumped into by serendipity in the small river town of Theodore. Like us, they had decided to get away from the house for a while. Many of their regular activities have been curtailed so as we all know, after a month or two of living under one roof, you get a bit stir crazy. After a spontaneous picnic lunch, and keeping our distance, our friends continued on towards Winton.

In Theodore, where we spent a couple of nights, we spotted four vehicles with Victorian number plates. Theodore has a police station, so you’d have to assume they have been checked.

Nevertheless, anxiety-tainted emotions arose; worries about contagion, proximity and the fear of the unknown. Hypothetical worries maybe, but you never know. Perhaps those with Victorian plates had been in Queensland since March, or earlier.

Some Grey Nomads, particularly those from colder climes, spend a lot of their winter north of the border.

Other travcllers seem to be worming their way into the State and not caring too much about leaving an accurate trail. Last I checked, there were still 185 people ‘missing’ after filling in forms at the NSW/Qld border. They are all supposed to be in quarantine for two weeks, but many still cannot be found. This implies that they used fake registration and/or address and contact details. Police have arrested several people this week, so we will watch the story unfold when they appear in court in September.

Crikey, as we say here in Australia when we really mean WTF. It would only take one contagious person to go into a licensed bar or restaurant and the viral ball would start rolling again.

I wondered if the authorities at border control are scanning drivers’ licences, as routinely happens when you go to licensed clubs. Or would this infringe our civil rights?

On the way to Theodore, we stopped off at the Isla Gorge lookout. If you want to climb down into the sandstone gorge and go exploring in this national park, you need to check in with the ranger, take a detailed map and make sure someone knows what you plan to do.

As it stands, you can pick your way carefully along a steep, unfenced track to a viewing point, but venturing further is only for the brave and thoroughly prepared tramper. You can stay overnight, but you need a permit and must be self-sufficient.

Everyone has their own comfort level when travelling. I spotted a young couple, rugged up and huddled around the camp fire at a Roma farmstay, before retiring to their little dome tent (as temperatures approached 5 degrees. At Wandoan we chatted briefly to an older couple in a little car who were exploring the Showgrounds as a likely place to camp. As we were setting up our caravan (and connecting power), the couple put up a small tent, table and chairs and a portable barbecue. It got to 3 degrees that night, so no, we were not keeping our distance!

If you want to go bush but feel like you need a guided tour with all the creature comforts, refer to Everald Compton’s recent blog). He and his wife Helen recently took time out for a bush holiday. Everald was born in 1931, so those of us who like to go bush with a swag and a nylon tent can excuse him a bit of luxury. They joined an organised tour with Nature bound Australia, a bush touring experience, where guests are ferried around in the operator’s four-wheel drive.

“We chose how many days we wanted to go on tour with them and agreed on an itinerary, after we had interesting advice from them about the many options that rural Australia offers. None of our chosen destinations had yet experienced COVID19.”

“Our itinerary took us on back roads through delightfully small communities and our accommodation was in bed and breakfast homes on farming and grazing properties, with other meals at wineries and quaint cafes in interesting places.”

Everald concluded that the bush adventure proved to be the right antidote for COVID-19 angst.

“A good bush holiday is all about reconnecting to nature and the guiding restorative power it has on our lives,” he wrote.

I’m sure our friends, creating their own versions of a bush adventure, would entirely agree. Just avoid interstate vehicles and, if someone wants to shake your hand, use hand sanitizer before you touch anything else.

Caravan maintenance and the art of journaling

No 6 in a six-part travelogue.

caravan-maintenance-journaling — Theresa Creek Dam at sunset. Caravan maintenance and the art of journaling.

As we start out on the last six days of a six-week caravan adventure, now is the time to dig into my journal for publishable insights and ironies. We found quite by accident an oasis in the outback called Theresa Creek Dam, 22km south west of Clermont. The dam was built here in 1985 by Blair Athol Coal to supply Clermont with drinking water.

It’s a tranquil lake spanning some 8,100 acres with abundant birdlife and a special kind of light. The dam is also an angler’s paradise, stocked quite recently (2015-16) with 14,200 barramundi and 34,147 golden perch. There’s also jewfish, saratoga and red claw. All kinds of boating is allowed, but you must have a licence to go fishing.

So after some hard driving across the flatlands of central Queensland, known for beef cattle and abundant reserves of coal, we took time to sit by the cool waters and reflect on the journey. We also did some running repairs on car and caravan. I say ‘we’ advisedly, as I am the sort of impractical bloke who will try three ways of doing something before the fourth and correct way.

This trip has not been without its mishaps, starting with the realisation, three days out, that the three-way caravan fridge wasn’t working. It cost $230 for a fridge mechanic in Charleville to tell us the bad news, that the fridge, given its age and resale value (nil), was not worth fixing.

So it’s had a good innings, this fridge, which the mechanic said was still working on gas, or at least it was until we took the van on dirt roads. She Who Plans Ahead Even When Being In The Moment reckoned it would cost $500 just to get the old fridge removed and a new three-way fridge (about $1200) installed.

The alternative, we figure, is an upright 12-volt fridge which will also cost about $1,100 but the installation will be a piece of cake. It can then run off the car battery when driving, the van battery when camped and the solar panel can keep the latter topped up. (Meanwhile, we pretend we’re in the 1920’s and use the fridge as an icebox, replenishing ice every couple of days. Ed)

In other on-road adventures, we bought a new car battery in Clermont. The old on failed once at Mt Surprise for no real reason other than to suspect the original Ford battery (four years old) was about to cark it. We got a ‘low battery’ warning a few days ago when starting the car, so got it tested in Clermont by the local RACQ approved repairer.

caravan-maintenance — Handy Mandy and the art of caravan maintenance

The other challenge was the caravan wardrobe door, which fell off while we were bouncing our way across the dirt road shortcut between Hughenden and The Lynd. Fortunately, the mirror on the inside of the door remained intact. Not so the hinges, which apart from matching all other hinges in the van, proved a curse to replace. Uncle John, who is possibly more handy than She Who Screws With her Left Hand (make of that what you will), tried three different hardware stores on the Atherton Tablelands and came up empty. He suggested a hardware store in Cairns which (a) was hard to find) and (b) couldn’t help us anyway. Persistent as always, SWSWHLH found a set of offset hinges in a caravan supplies shop in Townsville. But there were only two to (the only) packet. Not to be deterred, SWSWHLH took a hinge off a back cupboard, replacing it with the damaged one off the wardrobe, figuring that it ‘would do’ as it is not load bearing. So yesterday, with my assistance, She hung the wardrobe door and what do you know, it closes and locks. Yay. Estimated cost $4.86.

Anais Nin and my 40-year journaling habit

All of these little challenges are detailed in my journal, a long-running series of notebooks which contain not only factual observations, but also fiction and my interpretations of life as it progresses. It’s hardly the erotic adventures of Anais Nin, but as any good psychologist could tell you, it can be cathartic and even helpful to pour one’s feelings out in a journal that will hopefully never be read by anyone else. My executors have their instructions.

My journal contains sentiments which could be misinterpreted in the context of a loving relationship spanning many years. For example, Ms Acronym is apt to interrupt my sudden brilliant flashes of creativity, encouraging me to go birding, walking, do the laundry, work out what we’re doing tomorrow etc just when the small kernel of a new song has started rattling around in my head.

And as she no doubt caustically observes when scribbling in her own book, when travelling I tend to get dazed and confused in the late afternoon, readily confusing left and right and north and south. I grant that one’s spouse could find that exasperating, as I so often insist my way is the right way (when it is abundantly clear it is not).

She Who Keeps A Journal While Travelling has another writing exercise where she is supposed to spend 10 minutes writing down her feelings and then burn the paper. I apparently blundered into this exercise, rummaging around in the fridge (kept cool with ice boxes), saying “Honey, where are the carrots?” (My riposte was milder than you might suspect. Ed.)

Other minor mishaps on this escapade were usually due to somehow getting lost, which we either found amusing (or not). On leaving Glenmorgan for Surat (we’d been at Myall Park, a fascinating botanic garden in the bush), our GPS told us to turn left and continue down a corrugated dirt road which, half an hour later, had not yet met a bend. As my journal now tells me, some weeks after we stopped being annoyed about it, if we had not taken this road less travelled we would not have seen a mob of wallabies, a Bustard, a feral cat, four dead dingos hanging from a tree and a drover on a horse, durrie hanging from the corner of his mouth, who gave us a puzzled look and a laconic wave as if to say ‘are youse lost or something’. Later we deduced we had taken a local access road through various pastoral properties, emerging some 120 kms later at Surat.

We share equal blame for mishaps and forgetfulness. Someone left the van step on the footpath in Augathella while we went to take photos of murals. “Maybe someone nicked it,” I said, in an attempt to be charitable.

We drove on to Morven, planning to have a leisurely meal at the pub then watch State of Origin II. Alas, the pub burned down two years earlier so we ate canned stew and watched the game on the Ipad. I believe it is called finding strength in adversity.

My best act of dazed and confused was going into the ladies loo at Morven Recreation Ground. I came out of the shower wearing only a towel to find a woman about my own age looking less than excited to find a paunchy, near-naked old man in the ladies’ loo. “I think you’re in the wrong place, mate,” she said, in that charming understated outback way, adding “Ewes means girls, mate.”

Longreach to Winton via Mystery Road

longreach-winton-mystery road — Apex Park outside Longreach (photo by Bob Wilson)

From Hughenden: No 3 in an outback adventure series

So we’re driving into Longreach from Barcaldine, a journey rarely punctuated by a bend in the road, when snippets of a song jump into my head.

“I dunno why they call it Longreach, it doesn’t seem that far to me,” goes the line from one of Mick O’Halloran’s songs. .

Unlike much of the outback, at least you know when you’re coming into Longreach, 1,175 kms north-west of Brisbane, because of the unmistakable landmark which is the Qantas Founders’ Museum. We found our way to the town information centre and paid $6 for the privilege of camping for two nights at Apex Park, 4 kms west. The photo doesn’t quite do justice to the sight of 90 or so caravans, fifth-wheelers, slide-ons, camper trailers, A-vans, converted buses and the occasional tent, squatting in the dust alongside the Thompson River.

There’s a barbecue and covered picnic tables, flushing toilets and it’s only five minutes from town. But we were all a bit too close together for comfort and there were irritants like drifting smoke from camp fires, the grumble of generators, the untimely crowing of feral roosters and the bloody flies! I’ve been on a quest for a pair of his and hers fly swatters but so far on this trip they’ve been out of stock everywhere we looked.

I could not help noticing how many more vans there were in the morning, implying that some arrived late (or early), as it the habit of the lesser crested grey nomad, nabbing the best sites. I’m not suggesting they do it to avoid paying $3 – nobody’s that much of a tight arse.

Apex Park is reached via the Landsborough Highway west of Longreach across a series of bridges forming a long causeway across the Thompson River flood plain. The Thompson is a 3,500km long inland river that runs across channel country into Lake Eyre. While Longreach, like other western Queensland towns, has relatively low rainfall (average 450mm a year) floods are common because the many tributaries of the Thompson join and spread during heavy rain. The causeway’s 16 interlinked bridges stretch 24 kms across the flood plain, one effort to minimise flooding in the town.

We drove to the other side of Longreach for a late afternoon walk through Iningai Nature Reserve. Named after the traditional owners, this example of Mitchell Grass Downs country along the Thompson River has been allowed to regenerate since goats left it a dusty desert in 1950. There’s a fine example of a Coolibah tree, under which one can pose for the inevitable photo. The reserve is touted as a bird watcher’s paradise but we didn’t see many, maybe because night was gathering fast. Tip for bushwalkers – always carry a torch.

Onwards to the town seeking to claim the crown of South Australia’s Quorn as the country’s best known outdoor sound stage. Major films like Mystery Road and Goldstone were filmed in the Winton district. We were in Winton primarily to enjoy the Outback Film Festival, established in 2013 after the successful premiere of the aforementioned Mystery Road, starring Aaron Pedersen as a surly black cowboy detective. Some 400 people packed in to Winton’s famous open air theatre for the event, which remains the main venue for the film festival. Some films are also shown in a theatre at Winton’s rebuilt Waltzing Matilda Centre.

We saw some great films in the four days we were in Winton including Mystery Road, Sweet Country, Brothers’ Nest (starring Shane and Clayton Nicholson), documentaries (Night Parrot, Black Panther Woman and Backtrack Boys stand out), and a gory sci-fi film, Upgrade, which was a last minute replacement for That’s not my Dog.

If you get bored with the show you just look up, let your eyes adjust and take in nature’s starry, starry night. When Upgrade finished about 10.20 we were heading to bed but noticed that comedian Lawrence Mooney was doing an R18 late show at the North Gregory Hotel. Mooney came out in character as PM Malcolm Turnbull and wasted no time establishing the tone with a few swear words.

“Are there any kids here?” he asked. “If there are, f*** them off because this is an adults-only show.”

Mooney’s sharp satirical sword spared no-one; Millennials and Gen Xers copped it, so too the Greens, Labor and a few Senators singled out for special mention. Two people walked out when he made a joke about farmers and suicide and one heckler in the front row kept up such a running commentary Mooney resorted to telling her to shut the f*** up. You attend late night comedy shows at your own risk.

Grey nomads also copped a spray, although they were so under-represented in the Monday night audience there was little risk someone would take offence at his suggestion that serial killers should stop preying on backpackers and focus on grey nomads instead “because nobody cares”.

The telling part near the end of his show was Mooney asking the audience of 30-40 people how many actually lived in Winton. One woman raised her hand only to say she used to live in Winton but had moved away.

I had vague ambitions about driving out to Middleton, where Mystery Road was shot, until I figured out it was a 360km round-trip. Every place of interest around here is at least two hours’ drive away.

The Outback Film Festival, A Vision Splendid, is a bold project for a small outback community to sustain. It deserves to be supported (and you can still find time to go fossicking or dinosaur spotting).

On Wednesday night we got glammed up and went to the 100^th Anniversary celebrations of the Royal Open Air Theatre, which included dinner and a special screening of the silent film classic, The Sentimental Bloke.

It meant skipping the spectacular sunsets you so often see in the flat country spreading west, but there are sure to be more as we head north to Hughenden and the Gulf country.

The alert among you will observe that this was posted on Thursday, as we’re going bush and will be out of WIFI range for a few days. I’m off to buy some block ice as our caravan fridge decided to cark it (Aussie expression meaning it died). After our visits to the Stockman’s Hall of Fame in Longreach and Barcaldine’s Australian Heritage Centre, which tell stories of the hard life of country people in the 1800s, getting by without a fridge for a few weeks is no great hardship (as long as you don’t forget to buy the ice-Ed.)

Elephant captured on Nullarbor Plain

elephant-nullarbor-plain — Photo by Mario Micklisch https://flic.kr/p/peLSQA

An African elephant dubbed ‘Ferd’ by social media followers has been cornered in an industrial shed near a roadhouse on the Nullarbor Plain. Ferd escaped from the Perth Zoo three months ago and has been spotted variously in WA and the Northern Territory. Facebook posts claimed sightings on Groote Eylandt.

Shed owner Tony is making a bit of cash on the side charging travellers $10 to pose for an elephant selfie. The Grey Nomad website www.welikefreestuff.dot described this as “exploitation” and lamented the lack of a seniors’ discount.

“It’s weird,” said Tony. “Everybody takes selfies to post on Facebook but nobody actually wants to talk about the elephant in the room.”

At which point you can see this story about Ferd the elephant is not unlike the proliferating fake news stories on social media which commonly use a headline and intro like this to suck you in. The more insidious fake news items, however, are portrayed as legitimate news stories and are often picked up and shared.

Satire is not fake news and vice versa

Some of the fake news websites which churn out stories cast themselves as satirists, but it is a loose label, apt to blow off in the wind. A yarn about an elephant wandering the Australian desert is probably satire.

It is satire when someone suggests the Pope is marrying (famous female pop singer) and running for the White House. Fake news is a story about the Pope endorsing Donald Trump (quickly debunked by hoax tracking website www.snopes.com.

WTOE 5 News, which broke the story, claimed that news outlets around the world were reporting on the Pope’s unprecedented endorsement. But Snopes found that no reputable news publications confirmed it, because WTOE 5 News, masquerading as a local television news outlet, does not publish factual stories.

But social media is not so discriminating. As Harvard University’s Nieman Journalism Lab pointed out, this fake yarn, which appeared in July, was shared almost 1 million times, versus 36,000 shares for the story debunking it.

One such story prior to the US election suggested the Amish had committed their vote to Donald Trump. Only 10% of Amish vote at all.

Another story suggested Barack Obama was abolishing the oath of allegiance in US schools. Sounds believable but simply not true.

Before people caught on to the idea of making money by spreading fake news on social media, the so-called supermarket tabloids cornered the market.

Here you will see obviously misleading headlines like “Diana is still alive” or “Hillary Gay Crisis” or “Aliens settle in San Francisco”.

By contrast, fake news stories circulated on social media prior to the election were entirely plausible – until you read to the end or read the website’s disclaimer.

But who has the time to (a) read the whole article before (b) sharing it or (c) checking out the veracity via factcheck.com or snopes.com?

Fake news here to stay

David Glance, writing in The Conversation, says fake news is driven by advertising and is here to stay. Glance, Director of Centre for Software Practice, University of Western Australia, says a great deal of the recent fake news targeted at Trump supporters appears to have originated in the Macedonian town of Veles. Websites with legitimate-sounding names fed pro-Trump fake news, which in turn generated large revenues from traffic generated through Facebook shares.

Glance says it may be tempting to think that news from reputable media organisations is more reliable, but they too are still influenced by partisan opinion and the pressures to advertise and generate traffic and sales.

“Ultimately, there is no protection from fake news other than to adopt a sceptical view of all news and take the truth of it on balance of likelihood and confirmation from multiple reputable sources.”

Facebook and parent company Google say they are going to crack down on fake news sites. The New York Times reported last week that Google would ban websites that peddle fake news from using its online advertising service. Facebook updated its policy, which already says it will not display ads on sites that show misleading or illegal content, to include fake news sites.

Paul Who?

So who are the people who spend their days (and nights) churning out fake news? Some publications have identified Paul Horner, described by Wikipedia as an internet news satirist and writer. Horner confesses to being as described and highlights a few of the stories he has written that have been picked up and shared by internet news sites. The Amish was his, so too Obama banning the oath of allegiance and Horner has recently told the Washington Post that he helped get Donald Trump elected.

Horner’s various websites pose as legitimate websites, but if you jump to the disclaimer, the author leaves himself an out by clearly stating that “…all news articles contained within are fiction, and presumably fake news.”

As David Glance observed, mainstream media is not immune to fakery, or at least allowing embellished news to be published. The blame is placed upon gutted newsrooms, where veterans with 20 years’ or more experience are replaced by school leavers and interns. The Guardian quoted an (un-named) journalist who described the pressure to perform online:

“So much news that is reported online happens online. There is no need to get out and doorstep someone. You just sit at your desk and do it and, because it is so immediate, you are going to take that risk. Editors will say, ‘The BBC got that six seconds before we did.’”

Some editors defend the bull at a gate approach as online news can be instantly updated (or taken down), when errors become obvious. FOMM can confirm this strategy as we have occasionally corrected minor errors on our website (it’s Hillary with two l’s, Bob).

Fake news is nothing new. As David Glance says, quoting French philosopher Michel de Montaigne (re the turmoil and divisions of 16^th century France):

“Is it not better to remain in suspense than to entangle yourself in the many errors that the human fancy has produced? Is it not better to suspend your convictions than to get mixed up in these seditious and quarrelsome divisions?”

Fake news stories only a problem if you read them

Facebook has been blamed by some commentators for helping The Donald get elected, but it’s a specious argument. Filmmaker Michael Moore said people in America’s forgotten ‘rust belt’ made their minds up about Trump years ago.

Moore was interviewed in July by www.cnn.com (a real news website), where he talked about the reasons why Trump would win.

“If he’s able to pull it off, it will be because on that day, a lot of angry white guys, a lot of guys who have a justifiable right to be angry — guys and women– who have suffered during the last decade,” Moore said.

The Pew Institute says 13% of Americans (about 41 million, 41% of whom are over 65); do not have internet access because: the internet is too difficult to use (34%), they have no interest in going online (32%), or internet access is too expensive (19%).

Moore’s angry white men were never going to be swayed by fake stories about the Pope or the Amish, if indeed they read them in the first place.