In Broken Hill

Just a brief stop on the way to Sydney. It's been an interesting trip so far. This afternoon's groovy gig was sandwiched between stints in my train cabin, where I rehearsed and relaxed.
I watched the state roll by, turn into New South Wales, and tonight we climb over the Blue Mountains on our way to Sydney. But not before I give another performance...
I thought I'd pop into The Musicians Club in Broken Hill, and see a wealth of music-related ephemera displayed on the walls. Maybe get my picture taken next to a life-sized statue of Jimmy Little or something. Not a chance. The place was filled with pokies and eateries. No sign of music anywhere, unless you count the annoying jangling of the machines as music. I certainly don't.

Progress.

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