A warped history of my home town

A warped history of the place I grew up in

The year is 1979 and the Burke and Wills bus service has just brought in their first load of future Bathurst inhabitants. A mix of convicts, miners and Deni Ute Muster types. Soon they'll be just like the rest of us. Practically living at the pub, shooting kangaroos and getting booked for speeding on Mount Panorama.

In Mount Victoria, a maker of soap

And in Bathurst an antique fountain

From which water falls like rain

There is a Carillion tower

And many a gravel path

To walk along and hear the bells

My neighbour passes by on a Penny-farthing he built himself. Having turned away the good old horse that served him many days. Known for that around here. Top hat, vest, tie and a grey moustache. A real life Mulga Bill indeed! "Morning John! Bound for a new adventure I see"

"Oh yes, he said, blowing smoke after a long draw on his pipe. " I'm just planning out a trip to Conroy's Gap, finishing up in Castlereagh".

The ringer sounds the bells

And their hands smell of soap

This is their life path

A bird lands in the fountain

I look up at the tower

And pray for it to rain

"Well good luck with that, sir. Not that you'll need it. Riding is your special gift, after all".

His kids used to come over to my place unannounced. His daughter proudly showing off her ability to ride her bike with no hands. Let's just say that my attempt at that did not go quite so well.

Along comes hail and rain

And ACDC's Hells Bells

Lightning strikes the tower

I will clean the windows with soap

With water from the fountain

Horse hooves sound on the cobblestone path

And then there's the haunted castle up by the university there. You know the one, right? You don't? Boy, have you got some learning to do. And by that I do mean boys and learning. It's an all boys school with one very dark history indeed. Started by Bishop Quinn in 1866 as a place for young men to learn Latin, Aramaic, chemistry and maths. Then, in their free time; sewing classes. Bishop Quinn died on site in 1885 after a couple of students jumped out of a cleaning closet dressed as drag queens. The Bishop went into cardiac arrest and could not be resuscitated. The students had otherwise spent most of their years playing football, throwing paper aeroplanes and drawing phallic images. Also, the year sevens were always putting each other in the bins for some reason.

I follow my chosen life path

Avoiding the acid rain

My hair is styled like a fountain

And my shoes are laced with tiny bells

I wash my face with soap

And I look down from the memorial tower

At night, music from the Bathurst Music Entertainment Centre can be heard in the distance, playing background to the already present symphony of people crunching gravel underfoot and the sound of ducks splashing in Lake Spencer.