Bundy Mundy

Christmas was three days away. It was still early summer.

I’ll let that sink in.

In Northeast Ohio, it’s late December when this holiday occurs and winter is in full effect. There is snow falling and you’re usually bundled into a thick winter coat. You may be looking out of the window at winds whipping the powder around in a snow squall outside as you sit comfortably sheathed in a wool sweater and sip hot chocolate swimming with tiny marshmallows. It’s a wonderful time of year, even for those of us who don’t celebrate the holiday. It’s a beautiful sight to see twinkling, colored lights playing off of the white surfaces all around them. There will be snow on the ground for several weeks before the cold begins to recede and the green begins to return, but it’s Ohio and this is what you’ve come to expect in December.

But here in Queensland, December is the start of summer. It’s a strange thing to imagine people trying to sell the idea of Christmas during what would be the heat of June in the US, but here it was playing out. There were lights here and there, but no snow and no cold. It was bizarre. I kept hearing Christmas songs in the shops, but I just wasn’t buying it. The most iconic shot I think I captured to encapsulate this odd situation was that of a stack of tires someone had arranged and painted to look like a snowman. There was another I saw which was meant to resemble a Christmas tree.

In 2017 Christmas had hardly even registered, as it was the first year I had worked in a shop run by a brother. As a consequence there were none of the trappings that my previous workplaces had had; no Christmas party invitations to turn down, no decorated tree, and no repetitious holiday music. I had even fewer reminders in 2018 and 19 as I was working from home. Then this year came and it was all just oddly surreal and unconvincing due to the perceived weather disparity.

Today was the 23^rd. It was only one day earlier that I conducted my first official Watchtower study as the conductor. After the meeting I had gone to the Monto Grand Hotel with Egans and Elmers for a bit of a high class pub feed. (Fun fact: if you mistype Monto as ‘Monot’ you will either get French actress Louise Monot or a town in Bayrut, Lebanon.) The other option in town was the Albert Hotel Monto or to drive North to the Mungungo Pub or South to the Mulgildie Hotel. As far as restaurants go, that was pretty much all there was. (The “Monto Coffee Lounge” and “Cafe Delicious” count as cafes rather than restaurants, though they also serve food.) There was another establishment featuring Indian Food, but it was gone now. All of these featured a restaurant section as well as a pub and bottler where beer could be bought. They also all seemed to feature seafood platters consisting of various fried items. This was what I always ordered, partly because I love seafood, but partly because fried food had become such a rare treat for me here. Being in Queensland, I would probably be remiss to not to go and have a Victoria Bitter in a pub one evening just to say I did.

It was while we were at the Monto Grand enjoying our meals that it was suggested that a trip to Bundaberg for some shopping was necessary and that I was welcome to come along. It would be on Monday. ‘Bundy’ is the preferred term for this city and although I’ve never said it it, I’ve heard some people pronounce Monday ‘Mundy’. So the name “Bundy Mundy” stuck. The next day Tony, Michelle, and Anne picked me up and we set off for Bundaberg and the shops. The trip would take about two hours in total.

My original plan to reach Monto was to take the train from Sydney to Brisbane to Bundaberg and then have someone drive over to pick me up. But Fiona had warned that driving at night was something to be avoided due not only to active kangaroos but also to cows being out on the roads after dark. I didn’t entirely understand why there would be cows on the road at night, but our trip to Bundy now shed light on what she had meant. There is one particular stretch of road where one passes over a sort of painted grid. Farmers often have metal grids consisting off thin, parallel, horizontal bars at the entrance of their properties because the cows will not cross them due to their hoofs not being able to navigate them easily. What’s really strange though is that even if cows see what they perceive to be a grid, such as lines painted on a flat surface, they will still not attempt to cross them. Usually cows are fenced into paddocks on the other side of barbed wire fences abutting the road, but along this stretch they can roam freely into the road for quite a long stretch. However this means that those who are not paying attention at night or who are unaware of these animals will sometimes hit them, destroying their car and the cow as well.

Some of the road to Bundy was unpaved, so we both trailed and drove through swirls of billowing dust. After a while of this we came to Mt Perry, where a recently decommissioned Leopard AS1 tank authoritatively beckoned from a park alongside the road. We stopped to climb around on it and get some pictures. Having only recently been introduced to Girls Und Panzer by a friend, I still had tanks on my mind and was only too happy to get up close and personal with one. (Sadly no Japanese girls were on hand for the occasion.)

Several kilometres further and we came to Gin Gin, where we stopped for a pie at the Travelers Rest Café. As mentioned previously, the people here love their meat pies and this had been the widest selection of them I had yet seen. I ordered a mushroom and chicken pie, which was quite good, and also got to try Lamington flavored crisps. Lamingtons are a beloved snack consisting of coated sponge cakes squares, similar to a Twinkie or Zinger, but without the filling. Combining this taste with the crunch of a chip was kind of mind-blowing.

We finally arrived in Bundaberg and I tried to orient myself according to the memory of an overhead image I had studied a year earlier as I was trying to figure out possible lodgings and places to eat. There had been a large river, but I saw no sign of it now, and being thoroughly disoriented I quickly gave up trying to figure out where I was. (Turns out I was only a block or two from the train station and hotel I had considered staying at one year ago.) We found the Hinkler Shopping Center, entered the garage, and parked the wagon.

Malls here are a little bit different from those in Ohio. For one thing the parking is sometimes under the mall on a sub level and sometimes next to it, but covered with awnings. For another, the malls are usually single level affairs more like a cross between a mall and a shopping plaza. Like American malls, the stores are usually always the same ones for the most part, but though some were familiar, some were entirely new to me. For example there was a K Mart, Woolworths, and EB Games, but there was also a Coles, Gold Mart, and Reject Shop. As expected, there were phone providers, optometrists, shoe stores, and banks, but unexpectedly there was a Flight Centre Travel Agency (featuring workers dressed as stewardesses), SkinKandy Body Piercing, and a Justice of the Peace. One thing I later noticed, though, was that all three of the shopping centers I’ve visited here have almost all felt identical in that the layout and shops are almost always the same.

Michelle and Ann broke off to shop around while Tony and I headed for the nearest café. We talked for quite a while as we drifted from place to place killing time. Tony and I had a lot in common and so making conversation was easy and it was a nice chance to get to know him better. We drifted in and out of stores and at one point sat down on some patio furniture that was on display at a Bunnings and chatted awhile in all-weather comfort.

Tony’s dad was a real character. I was told stories about the crazy things the man did, said, and made his kids do. One example involved a piece of sage advice he imparted to his son in which he said (loosely) “A man’s name is all he truly owns, so it’s very important to always use people’s names when talking to them”. He then proceeded to never call Tony by his name, only ever addressing him as “fella”. On another occasion the family had moved to a different place and Tony had had to attend a new school with a different school uniform. However he had been forced to continue wearing the outfit from his previous school because it was still “in good shape and perfectly wearable”. He had a lot of funny stories like that.

It was in Bundy that I saw the one shop I truly wish I could have peaked into: “Nemo’s 24 hour Car and Dog Wash”. I suppose the name says it all, but what a weird mashup. It reminded me of the time a friend had passed by a plaza in which one business had replaced another, but the old sign was still up, consequently advertising the place as “Fashion Square Meat Market”. I sincerely hope to visit Nemo’s next time I’m in Bundy.

Before leaving for the day, we stopped in to Subway to have a sandwich. One thing that throws me each time I go into a Subway here is the fact that they don’t have chips (crisps). Part of the experience for me is always getting a bag of Baked Lays potato chips. Also they don’t have Provolone cheese and their cheddar is white. Peppers (Bell or otherwise) are referred to as “capsicum” and “chutney” is a featured spread. These are small details, but being in a Subway here is always a reminder that I’m in a world I don’t fully understand.

The day ended with us dodging cows on the way back to Monto and listening to odd musical selections from The Galvatrons and The McFlys, to The Muppets and Weird Al.

One thing I didn’t talk about at length in this post were the differences between the Target in Ohio and the Target in Australia. But since the Target in question is three hours away up in Rockhampton, I suppose we’ll just have to jump back in time by a week and travel there next.