So we rolled into Meekatharra on Friday afternoon VERY tired of the bone-jarring track, the only highlight en route being that Ian ran over a huge bungarra which he put in a fire pit & roasted up for dinner at our friends' backyard camp in town. We also picked up Atlas and 7 giant bags of dog food. DJ, the resident seven year old, was fascinated by all the pets although I did wonder what his prior pet experiences had been like as his comments consisted entirely of "We used to have a cat/dog/bird but it's dead" and "Will it eat me?"
The bus and trailer were a rubble pile of fallen objects, dust and filth and we were too tired to clean up so Ian dragged the swag out and we all slept in a big heap outside, which was quite pleasant apart from the stereo snoring of Atlas on one side & Ian on the other. Smokey took one look at Atlas, who is about the size of a pony, and retired to the bus until further notice.
The lizard tasted great, sort of a cross between chicken and fish. If you have ever eaten swordfish it's a bit like that. The main thing is to not look at it until it's on the plate in non-lizard form. I'm pretty sure it won't make it on to MasterChef. But we will definitely be bringing a roasted rear leg when the Queen invites us round for the reciprocal overseas barbecue.
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| Dinner |
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| Ian's trailer in Main Street, Meekatharra |
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| First stop: cold beer at the pub |
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| Atlas, the monster hound |
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| His head is the same size as all of Honey |
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| His feet! Jesus christ! |
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| We're gonna need a bigger bed |
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