In Armidale, In Absentia 

Well, the last week leading up some well-earned holidays was more hectic than expected and I got almost no time to write anything that wasn’t work related. Currently away from Melbourne visiting family in my hometown of Armidale. Life is lazy down here, especially at this time of year, so I’m excited about early morning, long afternoons, and late nights of writing.

I need to finish a short story I’ve been writing for my daughter before Christmas morning, then I’m planning to dig into the novel and finish a few special (and strange) articles for the website…

For now, some photos from revisiting old haunts in town! A lot of the best ones were abandoned buildings, which have long since been sealed up, fixed up, or demolished, but still found a few spots to reminisce.

The Old Train Bridge

Armidale has an old train line, but its only in use twice a day. It’s also only a block from my childhood home, so as you can imagine I spent a lot of time exploring the tracks, abandoned railway buildings, and under the bridge with friends. Armidale is also the end of the line, but wasn’t always, so I used to take solitary walks out of town along the tracks heading west.

This is the railway bridge viewed from the highway. The graffiti’d area is where we used to climb and sit, and occasionally add to the artworks.
Back in the day there were thick bushes here. You could make your way through them to a little track that led under the bridge. I guess the relevant authorities caught on because now it’s blocked off with a barbed wire fence and the path has been landscaped to a sheer drop.
It was easy enough to find a non-barbed fence to scale and then walk back to the bridge from the eastern side. What is it about railway tracks?
Finally sitting on the old stoop again. Though with a little more difficulty; teenage me was much slimmer! There was fresh graffiti, so thankfully it seems the security measures were a waste of money.

A Lost Meeting Place

When I was a teenager a friend and I used to regularly meet here to talk about life and read each others’ awful poetry. But back then it was surrounded by dense willows and other trees, and there were cement drains you could climb onto to sit. All that’s been cleared away now and it’s just a murky puddle.

Emo Playground

Night wanderings in the graveyard were a common adventure. Standard “teenage who dresses in black and is angsty” hangtimes.

Solitary mourner.
“That is symbolic as fuck!” – teenage Kinch

This was really interesting. The graveyard is divided up into seven (I think) Christian denominations. Then there’s this area for people of the Bahai faith with only one grave in it, surrounded by beautiful gum trees…

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