When we were planning this trip to QLD one of the essential
places on our list was
Lake Tinaroo. All the photos I’ve seen show a single van on a great expanse of grass with a huge lake in front of it. Of course the lake is devoid of any activity and looks peaceful and serene.
Also, while on this trip we hardly look at our watches let alone a calendar, even far less do we bother to find out if there is a long weekend involved.
So imagine our faces when we turned up at
Lake Tinaroo yesterday (Saturday of the Queen’s Birthday Long Weekend over here).
Each
campsite was a mini city with tents (mainly), camper trailers and the odd caravan occupying every square inch of available grass. Now that’s OK, after all it is a long weekend. So we eventually found a few spare square metres of grass at Fong-On
Campsite and set up. Every other
campsite on the way around was just as chockers.
But it soon became apparent that the predominant attendee this weekend were the CUBs.
CASHED UP BOGANS.
Young men with their green P plates, their attending trollops and their utes of every description, their wake board boats with all sound suppression removed from the V8 engines, a bank of at least 4 speakers bolted to the wakeboard tower so they can project their (c)rap music up and down the full length of the lake and into the ears of everyone on the banks, their jet skis lined up in rows, like their girls.
Of course each of the utes had to have a sound system capable of breaking eardrums.
The obligatory massive fire was ignited with some spare petrol and then they started what they came to do: drink as much as humanly possible in every waking moment. With this comes the language at full volume. Every second word started with F and every third word started with C. And that was just the girls.
As the night progressed they got louder and louder trying to outdo each other in every way. The girls had to go back and forth to the toilets, so they drove their car each time. As the grass got wetter with dew the tyres lost their grip so let’s rev the hell out of the motor. The blokes in their utes going back and forth to get more logs for the fire got closer and closer to some tents with babies in them while revving the crap out of their cars, with 6 or more drunks up on the tray.
We left this morning. One night was enough.
I sometimes wonder how Australia would go if we had to go to a major war. I look at these trumped up louts, full of bleep and wind, and think: how would they deal with a determined enemy?
I have come to the conclusion that we will surrender. There’s no viable alternative. Dads’ Army (everyone over 45) will hold out for a little while, watching these “dudes” wet their pants, but then it will be all over.
Might as well start reading the Koran now.