I spent four years in the 1970s hitching around Australia in search of work with no possessions other than those I could carry on my back. It wasn’t quite the same as the colonial days when a sundowner would turn up just in time to receive his rations but would disappear next morning before work started.

I was following the seasonal fruit picking work, which was paid piecemeal rather than hours worked (although I did once have a zero-hours contract for pruning). I usually only had enough to tide my over until the next job, the one exception was when I stopped drinking for awhile and saved up enough money for a plane fare to Tasmania – would have liked to have spent more time there instead of picking the apples in pouring rain to make the cider that was about the only thing I could drink at.

I enjoyed my stay in Tasmania and saved up enough money for a plane fare to Melbourne. I had lived there in my first three years in Australia and couldn’t get out of the place fast enough! Two hours later I was on a bus to Canberra. Freezing cold when I arrived early in the morning but I spent a couple of days exploring the capital before catching another bus to Sydney, from whence I could catch an overnight train to Brisbane.

I had a whole day to wait for a train further north and there happened to be a parade that day – Queen’s Birthday or summat similar. What surprised me most was that afterwards I saw groups of police on every street corner. I didn’t have to wonder why for long. The Premier of Queensland, Jo Bjelke Petersen, had imposed a ban on protests and this had provoked one. It was a minor protest but tied up a disproportionate number of police, there appeared to be many more than there were protesters.

I caught a train that night but had to switch to another to get to get me to my destination. The station master was kind and invited me into his office to stay warm until he got me a lift on a goods train.

I had to hitch the last few miles despite having money, and thought myself fortunate to be quartered with someone who preferred someone who didn’t drink. Sadly I was dependent on him for a lift into town and we always ended up in a pub at happy hour 🙄

I ventured further north seeking a job driving a tractor in the sugar cane fields around Rockhampton but turned south and spent four months hitching back to the border of South Australia, Victoria and New South Wales without a penny to my name. I was recruited for one day as an extra in a movie that was set on location. It’s called Little Boy Lost and I watched it for the first time quite recently on YouTube but couldn’t identify myself in the final scene.

I wasn’t paid, I had been recruited by a local community organisation, but I was fed and offered a bed for the night. Most importantly at that time was that there were people I could cadge a cigarette from. You might find it hard to believe that I would choose a cigarette over a pint of beer but the reason I’m able to do what I do is that I quit smoking just before opening my Twitter account. It’s a wealth hazard and money I save goes towards maintaining my internet connection.

I was on my way north again when I landed in Newcastle, NSW where I found accommodation in a hostel so I was able to apply for unemployment benefits and go on to study at university. What happened thereafter is subject I’ve written about elsewhere