A quick stop along the way, we encounter a little group of gorgeous "Mother Hens", who cluck their way along the railway line.
Back in Normanton, the town has restored itself to normal after the mad parties of the recent rodeo.
Jase almost had his head bitten off by Krys the Savannah King, the biggest crocodile ever caught & killed, at 8 metres long! Luckily, this Krys is made of concrete and not likely to harm tourists any time soon.
Normaton is home to a lovely old railway, and its station is run by a real character, a woman who makes "mobile art" by collecting, and grouping together, miscellaneous objects and hanging them on string. When I asked her politely whether her art was for sale, her smile slipped away from her face, her eyes darkened as a scowl spread across her face, her brows furrowed, and she snarled, "No, they're MINE." Hmmmm I'm not sure how I offended her exactly, but maybe she gets asked too many times, every day, by 'stupid' tourists. Never mind.
We returned to the Purple Pub, but this time, just for another quick look and cheekly photo. The Albion Pub, down the end of a desolate dead-end road, is gloriously decorated by a beautiful mural; an irresistible photo-opportunity.
Time to head off, eastwards.... towards Croydon tomorrow, and, very soon, the East Coast!
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| Laundromat- and Post-Office-in-one |
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| Mobile made from old scissors |
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| Mobile made from aerosol can lids |
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| The Tourist Information board has faded into oblivion |
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| The Albion |
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