More of a day trip than a holiday.
When I was a kid there were maybe 1,500 people living in my old home town so not exactly a bustling metropolis. But when you are 10 you don't care. You ride around on bikes, go swimming in the local waterholes, make canoes out of sheets of corrugated galvanised iron and try to make sense of the mystery of girls. I'll call the place Greenville to protect the guilty. We moved away when I was 11.

Fifteen years later I'd grown up, or pretended to have grown up. Then work found me living in a much bigger town three hours drive away from Greenville. Because I had once worked in a bank for a year I was treasurer of a local car club. I knew the difference between an invoice and a receipt, which was more than can be said for some of the other members.

In the meantime Greenville was growing. By this time the population was over 6,000 and some of the local blokes were wanting to start a car club. They were going to have a meeting about it and could we send a few people out to advise them. 9am next Saturday, would that be alright?

So it was up at 5am, quick bowl of cornflakes, shit, shower and shave then jump in the car, nip around to pick president Darryl and his missus Helen who was secretary, meet up with Trevor and Barry in Trev's ancient rotary Mazda and head out on the road. We'd gone about 10 kilometres when Trev's car threw an engine seal. So after a roadside confabulation, I drove them back to Barry's place, they got into Barry's car and we set out again.

The result was we didn't get there until well after nine but it didn't matter, the Greenville crowd hadn't exactly all turned up. Finally things got started just before ten.

Things dragged on with the usual irrelevancies and pointless waffle. Noon came and went and about a quarter to one people were beginning to slip out the door. So we wound it up soon after that.

The three blokes who had set the whole thing up hung back a few moments to say "thanks for coming" and then disappeared. No invitation for tea and biscuits, a barbecue, nothing.

So the five of us went looking for something to eat. Everything was closed except the pubs and a cafe on the main street. Too late for a counter lunch at the three pubs in town so we tried the cafe. This cafe had belonged to a Greek family when I was a kid and had been OK. They did nice ice cream sundaes, and I don't think I've had a proper one since. My farming grandparents used to come into town and they always went there for one.

But things had changed in the Metropole Cafe. The Greek family had sold out. The place was underlit, I think that was an attempt to hide the decrepitude and filth. It didn't work. I took a look around and decided that I wasn't going to buy anything that was not in a wrapper. Helen and Darryl did the same and grabbed cans of coke each. Trev and Barry, greatly daring, ordered hamburgers from the surly woman behind the counter.

So where were we going to eat this feast? There had been shady trees with seats around them in the main street, but the seats were gone. Then I recalled that there was supposed to be a park outside the hospital gate. So off we went. The park turned out to be a single park bench well away from the only tree and the bulldust (finely powdered dry clay and silt) around it was more than ankle deep.The railway station platform would have been a better place.

Two years later Greenville was promoting itself as a tourist destination. Yeah, right.
(Codenwarra, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 4:49, 13 replies)

i haven't read this as it seems to be an endless whine about things i can't fathom.
however, i would like to urge you, Rob Fairholme, to fuck right off, please.
( janet aylia y'all motherfuckers need jesus, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 12:00, closed)

Is everyone on QOTW Rob Fairholme?

( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 12:19, closed)

Fuck off Rob.

(immadme, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 12:26, closed)

Fuck off Rob yourself.

( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 13:02, closed)

I think a more pertinent question would be "why is everybody in australia so fucking dull?"
Seriously. If a monkey bashed out that many words they'd accidentally type an anecdote somewhere.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 12:35, closed)

but are they crushingly dull?

( spanishfly is so fucking sexy people impersonate him, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 13:03, closed)

akj;oib;hr ab and then I had a banana6hagrig;aagi;gjmgv5n;hvw66bn 6
yes
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 13:08, closed)

We only put about half as much effort into internet message boards...
...due to the fact that over here it's occasionally possible to, you know, go outside and stuff.

Besides which, dull as it might be, this is still about the only story this week that doesn't involve people traveling to exotic locations and then violently shitting themselves.
(Joy Division Oven Gloves Death to false metal, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 13:30, closed)

I've not been inside since breakfast.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 13:49, closed)

Is this building up to something?

(eViLegion Chief Commissioner of the Scottish Lunacy Board, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 12:19, closed)

The first few words say, "When I was a kid there were maybe 1,500 people living in my old home town".
Is the rest of it their names, or something?
( Fork Has lost his bash virginity!, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 13:43, closed)

genuine lol
( Ken Oath, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 15:19, closed)

This is truly dull

( Locus213 Slightly to the left of Bakunin, Wed 20 Aug 2014, 15:27, closed)