'Boo hoo', he said, flicking at his bottom lip, 'toughen up boys, this is springtime! Wait till summer, then it gets hot!' We're in the hottest part of Oz. It can get to 52 degrees here. Do these people have regular skin!
It's very hot.
Phil and I are carrying and laying stone pavers, baking, Anne's helping, melting. This is the Outback and it's 42 degrees celsius. Unprecedented heat. The sun - it beats down with a relentless fury as if to drive us to despair!
No amount of water helps. The mantra 'Pee clear twice a day - hydrate or die' has a curiously forlorn ring to it.
The sweat is pouring off us in rivers, evaporating as soon as it hits the parched, dry earth. A red faced Welshman sits on the back of a Toyota 4x4 and looks buggered.
Our heads are pounding; the rocks we're carrying are blisteringly hot. The earth 'neath our feet scolds us. A cigarette is lit off an all too rosy cheek.
Why are you so cruel mother nature? To harm and torture innocents like this!
Our tenderised flesh grown ever pinker.
Oh, for the goodly rain of home! The miserly sunshine! The gloom of cloudy days!
It's sunshine again tomorrow they say.
Bloody typical.
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