Walking along George Street, Bill and Geraldine were all ears. They had trained down from ‘Bungaree’ on the stock-route between Merriwa and Cassilis, finding the YHA on Cumberland Street with much difficulty even though the streets in The Rocks were lit up like midday. So much for a small footprint; what was good enough for city slickers should be good enough for the bloomin’ yokels up Cassilis way.
Gerry was agog as she trod the cobblestoned laneways. She persevered after turning her ankle in Greenway Lane trying to avoid the ruts gouged by the steel-rims of the drays. She had been keen to climb the Argyle Steps to the deck of the bridge itself.
Bill had toddled along beside her, quite taken by her enthusiasm. Now, however, it was his turn to play tour guide and he was headed to ‘The Fortune of War’, Sydney’s oldest, continuously licensed public house.
With acknowledgement to A.B. Paterson’s ‘The Man from Ironbark’