Technology

 And it doesn’t stop. The next stop was Hermansburg, The preparations of the foundation of a future bush job. 

It’s hard when somebody from outside the team starts to interfere with our job. It doesn’t work. going all the time bush with the same team, you get a certain feeling. everybody knows what to do, and read each other minds, what makes a job cruzy. It all flows together without words. But this time, it wasn’t . Even to the point that we create certain flying objects out of frustration. 

But maybe it was me. Time was flying and i noticed i crossed over a certain timeline , i was getting used too. 16 weeks were gone. And this is the time frame i `m used to returning to my other side. 

Maybe my unconscious was telling me something.

But i still have a few weeks to go ,before i can return to my baby. It was changed, and is still changing for the better. There is a calling. And it becomes louder and louder. No ear plugs decent enough to protect me from that. A life in Euralia becomes a reality. A place with a door, A door to a world with my own strange behaviour rules. 

Even the bush was helping me out. Going bush and being able to communicate with the other side of the world , is not a thing that’s common. sitting under a satellite dish the size of a house , and seeing the warmth of the waves leaving and returning gives you the strenght to keep going for those extra weeks.

While working at the rock again, installing a oil delivery and recovery line trough the whole station another week and half fies by, The summer changed in winter in a few days. And in the mean time , in a country far far away, technology is brought into the abandoned farm. All my imaginary walks trough the farm deciding where all the light, power points and water taps earn there ideal spot , are being put from paper into the wall and floor. Another change i wasn’t able to follow up in reality. A fact is that , the place will be different since the time i left Euralia ages ago.

Time to breath again, a little break, before the last run . I got even the time to experience one of the more culinary surprises of Ozzie land. “The floating pie” A dish put together by peas, carrots, and all kind of veggies mixed together to become a soup, And in the soup a meat pie floating , ignoring gravity. Only one portion of the floating pie let your body sink into the dirt by gravity.

The last run started, The last days in Alice. In a few days off again, installing another pipeline in Tennant Creek , 500 k’s away. Maybe i see my old friend again, inspecting my luggage and Indulging myself in the best steak of the NT. Living in better conditions then my little home in Alice. A private bathroom, a room twice the size ,i’m writing this story in . And above all, no cleaning ,no cooking , no shopping and no dishes. 

Yep, there are different kind of bush trips, and this is definitely my favorite one.

Different places

Running from one place to the other. From a primitive community with no means of communication to a place with the high tech of nowadays.

Sleeping on the back tray of the truck for a week gets in your blood. But there was no better solution. A donga the size of a camper van , and working 13 hours around the same people , you hesitate to sleep in a metre of each other proximity. I ran outside and installed my swag luxurious on the back of the tray. Space around me , where people pay millions of dollar to achieve it. A view where people kill for. Dancing stars , beautifully pictures, shooting stars, moving satellites and moving objects in space  are singing me in sleep. this is the beauty of going remote.

It are hard days of work , even at moments you wanna kill somebody or even that you feel you are going to die. But at night , on the back of the tray of my truck, makes it all worth. Not mentioning the pay check. 

Just back in Alice, and back on the road. Yulara, I know that place? i have been there before
But this time the job was a newbie. ground works. Playing with the dirt for a week. We had to prepare the red dirt for a new gen set install. bringing the dirt a 200 mm higher and level. Lucky , yulara , was surrounded by 1000 km square of dirt.

Setting a quarry  up a few miles out of the centre of the resort city. Driving a few loads of pure red dirt to the power station. and prepping the dirt by mixing it with water were our daily jobs. I felt like a little boy playing on the beach, making sandcastles. But hé, now i know how to build a sandcastle that doesn't collapse by a breeze . i never knew that dirt could get that hard , by just mixing it with water and pressing it together.
On the end we even needed a jackhammer to get an example of the dirt, to see if our density was qualified enough to build a gen set up.

Specializing in driving a bobcat for hours , getting the change to drive a road train. Yep, this job was different then the other ones, the 26 Th gen set install. The meaning of king of the road is now totally acceptable for me. Sitting in a monster truck on the narrow roads, really makes you feel like a king. Camels, cows, cars, coaches, cars, kangaroos all seem like little ants trying to stay on the road while you passing by. Almost feeling like a god. cars and coaches slowing down and stopping on the side of the road, to let you by. 

This job was a bit more relaxing then the other ones. Waiting for an hour while the water tank is filling up , and in the meantime chatting away with the other side of the globe. 

Running back and spray the water over the mountain of dirt, and doing the same over and over. 

Yep, this was a good job, with all his surprises.

The storm

The relaxing days are over.  We are running from one job to the other. Wondering which day we are in , and what time it is.

First  ,it all started with a job in the workshop. Manufacturing the steelwork from a big building with a deadline is something the Alice is not used too. The saying, from the NT, not today, not tomorrow, not Tuesday and not Thursday didn,t work this time. The workshop was running around the clock, and i was one of the guys, that was so wise to volunteer. No more playing with naked bodies on paper . No more imaginary night walks in Euralia. 


Two weeks just flew by, waking up , working, sleeping, waking up, working, sleeping. Those were the only activities my body was able to do. But we made the deadline. An unique evenement in the long history of the relaxing town in the middle of the dessert.

Thanks to our effort in Tenant creek, the bush team didn’t had time to celebrate. Up to the next trip. A gen set install somewhere in the dessert, i can’t even remember how the place was called. It all becomes a blur.I wonder if it`s caused by my working rythm or the fact thatt i have a few years standing on my name.

But still , there our moments that are engraved in somebodies memory.

Having a joyride in a box while going up with the crane hook, while marvelling about the wideness of the outback. History markers of times long gone, just standing there in the force of nature. waiting to disappear from history. And sometimes when those markers are lucky, a noble soul rescue them to bring back there former glory. Anyway , they Will have a go at it.

Driving the endless Stuart Highway , having a break at the remote roadhouse where life is still untouched by the invading society. Where life is not ruled by extreme safety conditions and behavior codes so we not accidentally are accused from sexual harassment and racism.

A door

The final modifications are done, far away and only seen in pictures.

It ‘s frustration seeing a baby growing up without being there. Depending on other people to see how it is growing and changing.

And it changed to its final form.

The windows are placed. A door is placed. An entrance to a world that is my own, with his own rule. The simple rule that i love. I never knew that a door could be from such importance. The next time i enter a door, it will be in a different way. It s a gateway to somebodies private world with the rules he likes to obey and where everybody who passes that gateway should behave at, and if not, you shouldn’t pass that door.

And now i have my own gateway. A door that i could walk trough, and knowing that i only have to obey my own rules. 

Now it is just a matter of time, Euralia is still inhabitable. No heating system, electricity that is running in the middle of the air. But the plans are made at the other side of the world. The last fase of making it a livable place is started. Soon there will be water, heating and electricity.

Being at the other part of the globe, makes it hard to feel how the light shines trough the new windows in to the house. You just imagine how it will feel, when you walk trough that gateway. But it is probably how a parent feels about his kid. It just feels good. It makes you  proud . 

So, here i am . Counting the days and hours. Looking at pictures from a distance . Waiting till the day comes that i for the first time in my life will be putting a key into a keyhole. Opening my private gateway to my imaginary world that is becoming a reality.

New friends

Off again, 500 k’s driving. Tennant creek was the destination. Back again, this place was my first bushtrip ever. Bringing up memories of times long gone. Being married and barely adjust to the australian customs. A rooky in bush trips. 

But now it was all different, the divorced rooky has become a fucking expert, and accustomed to the  way of bush. 

It went all smooth. Dismanteling a radiator from an inmense genset, load it on the truck, and installing again 1000 k’s further in Yulara, another place with memories. we did it in a record time. The power and water people are still talking about our effort. Even at places 2000 k’s away. But that was we needed. It became a snowball. And work is floating in. To much now to handle it all.

The time i spent in tennant creek was refreshing. Staying in a motel, where the steak is a piece of meat that just melts in your mouth. Not the ones were you have a fight between the knife and meat, and if you are not careful, you still have the change the piece of meat wants to get stuck in your throat an try to knock you out. 

I even made a new friend over there. A green frog jumped inside to say hello and to inspect my luggage. He even took the liberty of posing for the camera.

The room i was in, was even bigger then the place i live in . it was one of the rarities that sometimes happens. Going bush with a better quality of life then when you actually living at your own place.

The rock, a place that always calls me back. Even there i made some new naked friends. I reckon the wildlife of the bush reconized a fellow in spirit .

Yep, i have become a bushman. That hard it s even an enoyement at the other part of the world. Bush is acting as a grown up man, with all his own responsibilities and freedom he has. Do the good thing you survive, do the bad thing you die. As simple it gets. A simple rule to follow. 

Spare time

Damned , i’m still alive. The world is still existing. The end will be for another day. I just hibernated to survive the end, and now i have to update my blog. Months are passed. So lots to write about.

I’m back in my little castle of two by two. Back in the land of Oz after those endless flights. Straight back to work. No time for jet lag.
It was a time to put things in perspective. The job was pretty relaxing , just 8 hour days of work. A lot of spare time. Time to think and time to do other things then going to work.

Euralia needed electricity , water and gas. The first plans were made . After a hot day at work, at night i was living in a farm in Belgium. Walking trough the house turning lights on and off, taking a bath , cooking . An imaginary activity and slowly all my light switches and power contacts, the taps and toilets, were getting there correct place. The next step of making Euralia habitable could start.

It was really very calm at the workshop. Walking around and fucking the dog . Times were changing in a town called Alice Springs. The town known as a community depending only on each other because there isolating and remoteness is slowly disappearing. Alice was becoming part of the big country. Safety and quality standard are becoming big issues.The time to be an adult in a work environment is gone. For everything you do, there need to be a job safety analyse. It takes you an hour to dress up with safety gear to do a job ,earplugs, safety glasses, double shield protection, long paints, rigger gloves, steel boots.etc. Soon we ll have to fill a safety sheet to take a piss. Yep, freedom to be a man , responsible for his own stupid fuck ups is gone. We all are becoming children of a higher institution.

But hè , i’m on the bush team. Once on the road, and the bitumen changes to that beautiful red dirt, and the horizon fills up with just only scrub and distance, i become that man again. The freedom to get a welding flash, or to burn yourself , or even to brake a leg becomes mine again.

But it’s very quite, to quite. Time to pick up an old passion . Time to express myself in artistic ways. To let my unconscious do the talking. My frustration about safety and dictation.
So i started drawing again. In the early mornings my pencil was the only thing that was talking. It took me a while to get back into it. Bodies were malformed, to long legs, arms to short, or they look like they had a work accident while not following the safety rules.
I managed after a while to create something that looked like a human body. The days were passing, and my drawings were getting better. My walls started to look like an exposition
room.

It was silent , on all fronts. Days were just passing by. It was a silence before the storm.