(diaryland) July 1, 2001 - 9:37 p.m.

So yes, I'm back from the little island at the bottom of the world. There isn't much there. Well, there's ruins, tracksuit pants and ghost gums in marshes. And boiled lollies. And rain. And old pianos. And grandmothers. And dogs that roam around.

Most of the time it rained. Other times, it didn't rain. When it wasn't raining, there were rainbows. I swear, I saw at least three every day and one day I saw at least twenty. So rainbows are now a bit passe for me. I'm not knocking them; it's just that I've suffered from extreme rainbow overexposure.

One day, Rosie and I got stuck in a wooden maze. About half an hour later, we found ourselves stuck in another maze. Such is the cruel, harsh landscape of rural Tasmania. We paid five dollars each for this 'fun'. Also, another day, we went to a cave. There was a red fungus growing in the depths of this cave and it looked like a throbbing penis. But being fungus, it didn't actually throb. It stayed quite still. I shouldn't write things like this. I really shouldn't. Nope.

Anyway, before we went to the cave, we had to drive there. A lyrebird ran across the road in front of us. I've never seen anything quite so daggy in my life. The bird ran like a lanky nerdy teenager with toiletpaper hanging out of its pants. Then it disappeared into the forest.

We found the best graveyard ever. I took a photo of it. We went dancing in a silly club in which we were the only presence on the dancefloor for a while. I think Rosie now has nightmares about our dancing.

Hm. What else? I saw an ugly, evil child at the cinema today. It tried to run away with a bollard. That is all. I will show pictures later when they are developed (not of the child, by the way, of other stuff. stuff that's actually good).