Obviously there are no supermarkets in the Nullarbor so all our supplies had to come by truck. Once a fortnight everything we needed arrived - frozen milk, frozen bread, frozen meat, frozen veges, canned everything, a chemical waste dump of cleaning chemicals, an alpine range of toilet rolls, enough linen for all the beds in Buckingham Palace, but mostly beer. VB and Emu. The real fuel of the Nullarbor. Once or twice something really interesting came though. Like the time I ordered Maccas for Terry's 25th birthday. The story made the West Australian. Wayne Tagg, the manager of Fremantle MacDonald's, had a mate in the port who snap froze 25 Big Macs for me. They experimented with leaving the lettuce in but in the end decided to send a fresh lettuce separately. Tomorrow I'll tell you where we ate them...
Roadhouse post #3
Leave a Reply.
It must be a good idea!
This blog is a kind of stream of thought. It's all about where I'm at right now with my writing, and all kinds of other things!