
The spectacle of Sydney’s ‘Flying Pieman’
It’s one of those yarns you hear sitting around a pub on a Friday evening and accept with a grain or two of salt.
It’s one of those yarns you hear sitting around a pub on a Friday evening and accept with a grain or two of salt.
Dotted around the Riverina and outback New South Wales are several intriguing old river red gums with hand shears embedded in their trunks.
With tantalising tales of lost treasure and the potential to rewrite Australia’s history, the legend of the Mahogany Ship is unlikely to disappear in a hurry.
The headline in Sydney’s Daily Mirror on 14 March 1985 screamed: “Great mysteries of the world… Flying Rabbit hunt is on”.
Regular readers know this column is partial to a ripping monster yarn. So, when I first heard whispers about the Monegeetta Monster, to say I was champing at the bit to find out more would be an understatement.
It’s rugged out Bungonia way, near Goulburn in south-eastern New South Wales. The tiny town is surrounded by forest and steep gorges and pockmarked with some of the mainland’s deepest cave systems. If a large new mammal species was ever to be discovered in a hidden valley, then it’s more likely to be in the wilds of Bungonia than in many other places in the county.
If you live on Australia’s east coast and enjoy beachcombing, there’s a good chance that during the first half of this year you noticed lots of pumice stone at the high tide mark.
Thornton Beach is a popular tourist stop, but not for the scenery and swimming. Instead, it’s the ‘bouncing stones’ that lure people.
Nope, the hieroglyphs seen engraved on rocks within Brisbane Water National Park were not the handiwork of Egyptian travellers who sailed to Australia some 5000 years ago.
The photo of the so-called Nullarbor Nymph spread like wildfire.