Smouldering bush fires! Bev, my agent, must have a kangaroo loose in the top paddock, as they say in these parts. She's only gone and booked me a gig in Margate. Margate, Tasmania that is.
I don't know, you travel 12,000 miles to the other side of the world, only to find you're in a seaside town called Margate, on an island off an even bigger island. Not only that, but they seem to have as many fires here as they do in the other Margate.
Oh well, at least the tucker's good. I'm beginning to develop quite a roof over my toolshed!