When no one could live in Lorne, we couldn’t give a toss,

The place is full of plutocrats, another paradise lost
When we couldn’t live in Byron, we were a little histrionic
There’s a problem with just being, just a little bit Byronic
But away from the sunny beaches, the interior’s bloody hot
Who’d wanna burn in summer, stuck to your little plot
But beachcombers, tree-changers, they’re all the bloody same
Now they’re kicking me dunny door down, bound for Castlemaine

(Traditional vagrant song C. 2017)

Dear reader it’s been long obvious that any delightful leafy or beauty spot is ruined by over-development. If it be desirable, it’ll be converted into something very undesirable. And if you loathe resorts, the “resort-ification” is almost complete. A paddock in Port Lincoln is paradise in contrast to this creeping homogenisation and pasteurisation of the soul. It’s called “progress’. We laughed when Lorne became too expensive for baristas. The irony was excruciating. And besides the death of Lorne, in our considered opinion can be dated either to the rebuilding of the Cumberland Hotel in the 80’s or the privatisation of the foreshore with the Erskine Resort. Either way it was a beach resort gone Chapel Street Sth Yarra, very shiny. And the aura of the 70’s cock rock, surfies, chicks and chiko roll eating blokes a thing of the past. Apparently people still go there, but they’re the same who enjoy Portsea, and the falls in Winter, They flock that way. They find comfort in numbers, sameness and being resolutely the same. It’s ‘Nice’. Though, not quite as “nice” as the one in France.

Lorne. So expensive. Can’t even get a lawn mower man to live there

Same thing happened in Daylesford. Now it’s too expensive. It suited us further north. Kept em at bay. We spurned the over indulgence of massaging, herbal remedies and absorption in self. We loathe that sort of thing further north. We like cold showers, porridge, and being beaten by Swedish masseurs before a long walk, with singing, and the odds bit of lederhosen, keeps us pure in sprit and deed.

Daylesford. The water is more expensive than gold!!

Now there’s that creeping susserus of change in Castlemaine. Lived there on and off for twenty years and the prices are going through the roof. And they reckon the same thing is happening, the forces of Air bnb is creating a vacuum. Sure to be kicked out of my rental home soon. Suffering from a newly diagnosed neurosis, “Transientis-forebodus”. The fear of being up-rooted’. As people get nuffink from the banks they’re long to short term rentals and the old, the addicted, the weak, the impecunious are being squeezed. And why not?

It’s time the poor moved to to Whycheproof, and Inglewood. Housing is cheaper in St Arnaud. Some suggest that Broken Hill is a good option. But like a fusion between Lorne and Byron, plenty of sand, and a bit of a tree change. That’s why the over-cashed retirees, (who happen to be the baby boomers) are heading north. It’s ‘Nice’, and as a consequence it’ll be soon DEAD.

Homeless dog with male companion.

And that’s the market at work. For poor people, Stuff em. Orbost is cheap. Shepparton and Seymour looking good. And on the rail. No jobs for barristas. Just plenty of work for barristers, solicitors and the aptly named “Justice System”.