A Hurried Picnic

Every day on our recent holiday Lib and I had picnic lunch. It's what we love to do. The Alice Pink Desert Botanical Gardens, Ormiston Gorge, Trephina Gorge, Uluru, and King's Canyon were some of the venues, but it is the one we had last Friday in the dry bed of the Todd river in Alice Springs that is the subject of this post.

We'd got to know our way around by then. It was a hot day, about 36C. We pulled in to the shade of a red gum tree in 'Rotary Park' near Heavitree Gap looking for a table and chair.

"There doesn't seem to be a table," Lib said.

"There has to be. That's what the Rotary Club does in parks. Yes, there's one further on. See it? But the shade's better here. Let's eat from the back of the car."

An olive green Range Rover had followed our Hyundai Getz hire car into the park and was stopped about thirty metres away adjacent to us. An aboriginal woman got out and walked off by herself in the direction of the table and chair which was about 70 or 80 metres along.

"I wonder why she's walking off alone and leaving her car windows open," Lib commented. We went to the boot and made up a sandwich of salami, cheese, tomato and cucumber in sliced wholemeal bread after quaffing on bottled water. The aboriginal lady was standing by herself about 100 metres away. We sat in the front of the car with our doors open enjoying the sandwich.

Lib said, "She must be waiting for.... Geez, he just punched her."

I looked in the direction of the aboriginal woman just in time to see an aboriginal man throw a second punch, not a king hit but a cuffing round arm to her head. It looked like his fist was clenched. She didn't cry out or scream, fall, or run, and hardly flinched as she kept walking back towards her car. The man ran ahead of her and when he got about thirty metres away from the car he picked up a jagged rock the size of an orange and hurled it at the Range Rover. Bang. It landed flush on the bonnet. The man keep running to the car and opened the door, grabbing clothing and chucking it onto the ground.

By this time I'd moved to the back of the Hyundai, quickly eating my sandwich and packing up the picnic. I jumped back in the car and said to Lib, "We're out of here."

"Geez, you ate that quick," said Lib, laughing, and still only halfway through her sandwich.

"Yeah well, we've come this far without a scratch on the car and there's a $330 excess if we get one. And believe me, a punch up in the heat at my age with an angry aborigine on the bank of the Todd River is the last thing I'm after."

A quarter of an hour later I was in a newsagency buying a tattslotto ticket when there was a lot of aggro shouting outside. As I came out the same angry man was stomping away about 20 metres ahead of me. He walked straight through the car park, turning right angles at our car and walking the length of it. I was expecting him to lash out with a boot and inflict damage, which I'd fled the park to avoid, in a bizarre twist of bad luck. Relieved I was.