Day 199 | On the move, just around the corner: silence is golden

It proved time to move on in the accommodation department here in Alice.

My temporary bed needed to be made permanent now I have found my 55 hour a week job, some more peace and quiet seemed to be the way to go despite my ability to crashout with chaos around.

Life at the backpackers meant there was always someone to chat to and be entertained by.

Rowdiness was a general feature, remember the exuberance of the mid-20 year olds in a foreign county, except for a brief respite at the weekends between the sun getting up and the diehard party goers returning, but not immediately to their beds. When they stumbled in there was usually a period of hi jinks until even the most robust extroverts dropped exhausted, maybe the drugs wore off, just before lunch.

One quietish Saturday night, well there’s always a band playing in the bar downstairs at the weekends, most of the resident yoof had evacuated the premises for a day long bash out somewhere in the bush, not quite the Burning Man experience but the same sort of dusty, distant environment with only the local fauna to disturb.

There were the usual waves of returnees as the night progressed, mostly just crashing around, some tuneless singing of unrecognisable songs and bursts of cackling. And yes, sound does travel well at night.

Around 4am a largish contingent dumped themselves under the front walkway, out on the street, ie, just below my first floor bedroom window. A car stereo was cranked up, the selection of music 80s lightweight rock, and it looked as if everyone had settled in for the duration.

Humm, dunno what happened, some sort of muddled brain snap on my part but I recognised that music blasting could last hours.

I emerged from the room and without hesitation unwound the fire hose just outside the door and let rip with the water off the walkway. No great consternation down below, it was still around 28ºC, ie, warm, and there was a whole lot of intense laughing from a bunch of people down there and minor levels of ducking for cover.

The music continued blaring but for some reason no one shut the car door, but now with no one to aim at the obvious target was the 20 year old 4WD ute with junk in the back tray, a fencing setup maybe.

Oh, the water was going in the car door, surely someone will shut it.

Surely.

Some time passed, just the pouring water and laughter below.

Eventually the door slammed, the music now muffled, the water deluge ceased, I wandered back to bed.

Still plenty of noise, as events were recounted down below, but before long someone was bashing on the door. Well I ain’t letting them in.

Half an hour later with first light appearing in the sky the team moved to the other side of the building to continue the raucous laughter, etc. More beer anyone?

A few hours later I realised the stupidity of my stand. I’d been recognised, that old xxxx, (hunh, I just rode a bicycle from Perth), one of the major instigators of communal nocturnal activities, just call me Cowboy, had briefly shared my room and was still staggering around, loudly, beer in hand. It’s now 8 30 Sunday morning.

What to do to avoid hospitalisation?

Confidence son, complete confidence.

From the balcony to the Akubra hat wearing one below.

“Hey Cowboy, I’ve got no objection to youse waking us all up at 4 o’clock mate, but I can’t stand your choice in music. We’ll have to organise a collection to get you some decent CDs.”

That broke the ice, ie, showed who’s boss.

“You filled my truck up with water.”

“Yeah, why didn’t someone close the door?”

I felt brave enough to move downstairs.

“Anyway, what’s a handsome bloke like you doing drinking at 4 in the morning, you should be tucked into bed with some gorgeous gal.”

Cowboy certainly ain’t the good looking type, the two broken teeth when he grins doesn’t add to the charm. He gets a photo of him with a gorgeous gal from his wallet.

“Oh, I’m engaged.”

“Nice.”

Later it appears it wasn’t exactly his car he was driving, the owner fronts.

“Cowboy said it was his truck.”

“Well it ain’t.”

“Well, I’m not charging you for the first carwash but next time it will be $15.”

They don’t know quite what to make of me.

Very quiet now where I am in sensible shoes accommodation.

Just the way I like it.