While we had another day of nothing planned for today, I fail to fully comprehend where all that time went. One minute I was getting up and having breakfast, then it seems the next I was sitting typing this and thinking about heading off to bed for the night. Such is the grey nomad way of life.

Actually, it’s this grey nomad lifestyle I’m blaming a wide range of ailments and concerns. I call it Grey Nomad Syndrome. It is responsible for concentration lapses, short term memory loss, impertinent and impetuous speech patterns and any other irregular behavior I can think of. I honestly think there is something to it. We’ve stopped living to a strict, work enforced timetable and suddenly our brains have gone to mush. An argument ensued today solely over whether we should take a 2 hour cruise or a 3 ½ hour cruise when we get down to Katherine Gorge in a few days time, which was followed by another spat over whether we were going down to the shops to go to the shops, or to go to the bank. All due to the dreaded GNS and now I can’t even remember who was right. Although I’m going to go out on a limb and say Bec, because surely I’d recall something so sensational as winning a squabble!

That’s all beside the point however and we didn’t barney all day long. In the intervening periods, I managed to upload another week or more worth of our very private holiday pics, to the very public forum that is Flickr. Be sure to check them out. There are a few fantastic shots of me scaring the bejesus out of a crocodile named ‘Chopper’. He was lucky that I was contained in that plexiglass tube!

I also got around to putting a couple of hooks up on the side of the van. One of the first things we did when we arrived here in Darwin was to make our way to the hardware store to buy these hooks. Now, almost three weeks later, I have finally affixed them to the van. Now we will be able to hang a drying rack out beneath the awning when the weather turns inclement. Whilst I’m not looking forward to the time, I am sure it will happen when we least expect it.

Another job that I have been putting off is making a strap for Becs Beast Access Device otherwise known as ‘Becs BAD’. (That’s the only way I’ll ever get to say Becs BAD, without copping a slap around the back of the head!) Anyway, before we left home, we had a small step stool with a rope tied to it, so Bec could hang it out of the door of ‘The Beast’ to help her climb in and out. The step we had was of an annoying size, which we had nowhere to easily stow when on the road. So it has found little use thus far. When out shopping the other day, we came across a nifty folding stool, which just needed a couple of holes bored through it to tie the cord to. I’ve been lazy though, as getting the drill out of the toolbox is a big job in itself, so I’d kept putting it off. No longer could I ignore the job though, and Bec is now the proud owner of ‘Becs BAD Mk II’.

This evening was reserved for a night out for me, while Bec stayed at home with the mutts. The Pro Bull Riding Rodeo is in town tonight, for one night only, and I’ve been looking forward to going since I read about it over a month ago. After her experience in Rockhampton (see: Day 23: A Beast Of A Time In Rockhampton & Day 25: Rocky Under Foot) with the bull riding, Bec had chosen to stay at home.

Both of the dogs were happy…

…to be staying home with Bec.

I’d been planning on going it alone, but our next door neighbours here in the park had a spare ticket after one of their mates fell ill and wasn’t able to make it. So I bought the ticket off them, and agreed to share a cab to the event. So that’s how it came to be I was sharing a mini van with my four new mates, driven by a crazy New Zealander, heading for the greatest show on earth.

When it comes to rodeos, the PBR is at the top of the heap. This is the cream of the crop, where all the best riders aspire to gain an entry, and all of the best bulls are laid on to test them out. Half sport, half theater it’s all spectacle. I fitted right in, with jeans, big buckles and huge hats being the dress of the night as we took our places on the lawn to watch the show.

As the bulls bucked, it was amazing that anyone could sit astride them for half a second, let alone the full 8 seconds that is required to gain a score, but there was a few that managed to go the distance. The class of these guys and the bulls they were riding were a class above any other rodeo I’ve ever been to. It must take an almost inhumane effort to hold onto that rope, as close to a ton of heaving muscle, bone and slobber crushes your most delicate bits and tries to toss you to the ground. Lasting the 8 seconds didn’t necessarily ensure an easy get off however, with many of the successful riders still thrown roughly to the dirt.

It’s all part of the ceremony though, and I am sure that I was not the only one in the thronging crowd waiting to watch a wreck. When it did happen, a rider getting bucked off, headfirst into the arena fence, before getting slammed by the still raging bull, the whole crowd immediately fell into a deathly silence. A spine chilling few minutes transpired, as medics rushed to the downed rider, before a raucous applause went up as he regained his feet and limped slowly from the field.

Near on three hours of non-stop, bull riding action where even the failures were cheered like heroes. I certainly concur, that it is indeed a spectacle like none other and worthy of its title the greatest show on earth.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.