My thirteen year old granddaughter, Angela, and I were touring Northern Australia. We were on the train from Sydney to the Lightening Ridge Opal Mine, chugging through pastures of sheep, sheep and more sheep. I was describing the landscape into my hand-held recorder while Angela sat gazing out the window. The conductor came around to check our tickets and gasped. “You’re on the wrong train, miss.”
I could have swallowed my tongue. “How do we get on the right train ─ to Lightening Ridge?” I asked.
“Sorry, miss, you’re out of luck. I’ll have the engineer radio ahead to the bus depot. Take the bus to Warris Creek where you’ll pick up another bus to the nearest town of Dubbo. You’ll have a one day layover until the train to Sydney comes through again.”
We stood beside our luggage at the side of the narrow, deserted highway and watched the bus chug away in a puff of smoke. I took in our surroundings. Warris Creek was exactly that…a creek with musical frogs. I glanced down at Angela’s stricken face, gave her a hug and told her the next bus would be arriving soon…not to worry. But what if it... read more >>