Outback
A journey “Down Under” in 2003 made me start making collages on my Mac. I had taken care of receipts, train tables and photos from an amazing trip. Briefly told; three girls travelled around in Australia for a month. It was a huge moment for me to sleep under the open skies at the foot of Uluru, go day trip through The Olgas, to travel with the Gahn Express from Adelaide to Alice Springs and to see wild kangaroos and crocodiles.
But, there were three days in Broken Hill that made the strongest impression. Broken Hill is a mining-city in the middle of the desert between Sydney and Perth, and is about the size of the city of Hamar. On all sides it was desert. We got there with a week only train a Monday night in August (early spring in Australia). Our “strange” language evoked a stir on the train, and when people realized that we came all the way from Norway, we were entertained for the rest of the journey.
We stayed at an old hotel, which was an adventure. The hotel had a bar and the city’s largest balcony. There we met Jason, an artist that had escaped from his own exhibition opening, and Jeff who was a surfer and crook who hunted his ex from 20 years back.