Medowie Dumpster dining

The sun is down in Medowie and the Bakehouse bins have provided a savoury loaf feast. The charming girls of Newcastle and my mates made me stay a little longer despite the interest I created for the boys in blue. Today was the first time in my journey I've been stopped by nosey police. It was also the first time I found dumpsters a resource. I've found a camp behind a church.

Letter : Newcastle was fun, apparently made more fun by a rumour that this swaggie possessed a healthy repetoire of bedroom manouvres. It therefore came to pass that a number of women were allegedly swooning over this swaggie as he came into town.

On walking into Newcastle I recalled the impression that this town is ever so slightly ashamed of it's industrial "bread and butter' and has planted trees to create a visual barrier to the unsightly evidence; what was once a sign of progress is now something to cover up.
I found myself walking through coal loading terminals along the wharves, attracting the attention of the police for the very first time on my journey. I was beginning to think they didn't care. After attempting to convince me that "I wasn't real bright" and that I should take another way, I offered a 'yeah but no' answer. I changed the subject, asking what New South Wales laws I should watch out for, and the conversation died off. The next day I saw a sign which said my route had been a 5km shortcut and that Newcastle police are either very protective of their industry or terrible at judging shortcuts.

Whatever the case, insecurities like this show a change in the wider idea of what progress is. It's an early sign for what the world is moving away from.

When the light faded from the sky I had reached the township of Medowie. The Bakery industrial bins were overflowing with sealed bags of a variety of savoury breads. It was a special dinner with food that was but minutes from the display shelf.

With a fully belly, the camp behind Medowie Church seemed fine, on 'crown' land adn without a 'no camping' sign as the officer decreed. What is 'crown land' ?, I wondered, and how do I tell if I'm camped on it? Sleep arrived before the answer.

Swaggie