...once bitten twice shy, thrice bitten...

…up at the new local produce shop in cobargo, called 'sweet home cobargo', nick the co-owner, told the story of the days he did hitchiking in malaysia…of the three races, only the indians picked him up - never the chinese or the malays…he offered no insight into this curious bit of experience... I, being a malay myself, can't give any either...the malaysian lingo for a white man is 'mat salleh', an everyday malay name which is in the case of westerners, corrupted from 'mad sailors' harking back to the days when drunk colonials were roaming the streets of the empire...nowadays we do these things in the confine of bali... but I don't think this has any bearing on why nick wasn't given lifts whilst hitching for a ride over there; I'm sure the malaysians harbour no hard feelings towards an aussie and as far as bad blood between them and the brits are concerned, they have moved on since independence 55 years ago... which got me to recall the day I found myself up close with two hitchhikers here on the coast's princes highway...

…I think it was partly because I have moved to the country, to the south coast, that  my attitude to people's sincerity  and general anxiousness to others doing you in or ripping you off has been lax to say the least… in canberra where I have lived for 30 years, you tend to get wary of people in pubs and nightclubs who try to bludge  drinks off you or even rip money off you; these bullshit artistes don't mug you or anything crass like that - they know you and you them… some have been drinking with you for yonks - no, they are more subtle than that… one comes up to me after not saying hello the whole day stuck in front of his favourite poker machine, and says that he needs to get home to get his wallet and whether I can lend him the taxi fare… and it's pretty established that lending people money in a place where there are pokies is the last place you'd expect the debt to be repaid in...another asks whether I can buy her a drink, a bottle of breezer please, thank you… and throughout the night she does her usual round of asking men around the pool table to buy her the not-so-cheap drinks… then there are the assorted sob stories from those you have known for years who tried to elicit ten or twenty dollars off you… there was a well-paid public servant working for the tax office who was always broke due to his gambling habit and who got me and others to buy him his beers though he never shouted back, got usually drunk and slept in nearby glebe park because he had no money for the cabfare home… he went to work the next day straight to the office building across from the  park bench… I have known this guy for more than ten years…

central tilba, overlooking from paradise hill

…so being at the coast my guards are naturally down… one sunny friday afternoon at the turnoff to central tilba on our way to narooma, we picked up a young couple - kylie and john… my friend the driver, had never in her entire life, ever picked up a hitchhiker as was her policy… until that day… conversation was cordial enough - they gave me a tip on where in narooma you can have a good game of pool, like at lynch's; they said they were from the town and that was where we dropped them off… as we drove off, my friend suddenly had this weird urge to check her bag lying on the backseat floor where her purse was… the $110 cash was gone… I said to her that we just put the loss down to local weekend tax… hopefully, with the $110, kylie and john would have a smashing weekend at the place to be seen in: narooma's pub-with-the-million-dollar-view…

…a proverb that is clearly not true : the best things in life are free...
...but then again if you like beautiful vista, pleasure from a hobby, 
fresh air, the sea and sand, breeze in the trees, 
love and people that you love, sound of a creek, 
rosellas in the backyard, things you love doing, 
freshly laid eggs, looking at the clouds, ...