I'm sure many of you would never have heard the term, "back o' Bourke" before, although some people may have heard a similar term "back o' Beyond". 

" back o' Bourke" was originally used to define the region beyond the small Australian  outback town of Bourke in north-western New South Wales, but became a common saying to refer to any remote, sparsely populated country area.   

This is the first installment of a story based on fact.

 

 

 

Her frantic calls for help failed to gain the attention of anyone on her floor in the hotel.   Knowing she needed assistance, and quickly, my aunt headed for the carpeted stairs of the old building, said to be the best hotel in Bourke.  Even through her pain, her mind vaguely noted the faded, threadbare condition of the floral carpet.  After an agonizing journey down the stairs, she called several more times.  Again her plaintive pleas for help received the empty reply of silence. 

Still wearing only her nightie, she reached the solid wooden front doors before collapsing.  But my aunt is not one to give up without a fight.  With the perseverance that 68 years had bestowed upon her, she pulled herself up with her one good hand.  Despite the intense pain in her wrist, she opened the double front doors, grateful the deadlocks only needed keys from the outside. 

Bourke is not exactly the busiest town at any time of any day.  But at 7.20 on a wet Easter Sunday morning, you could almost be forgiven for thinking you had stepped into a well-preserved ghost town.  This made the open door across the road more than a little welcoming to Irene. 

With no traffic to worry about, my aunt, in ever-increasing pain, crossed the road to the fire station without incident.  The fireman on duty took prompt action.  He only needed one look at her wrist to know she needed immediate medical attention.  Without delay, he drove her to the emergency department at the local hospital. 

Some time later, back at the hotel, another drama began unfolding.  When the hotel staff first noticed my aunt’s absence, they thought nothing of it.  The reason most visitors come to their town is to go sightseeing.  But the fireman hadn’t thought to notify the hotel of Irene’s accident.  Apparently he presumed she would receive medical attention, and return to the hotel soon after.  Staff became concerned, however, when someone pointed out my aunt’s car still in the car park.  Further investigation found her handbag and car keys still in her open room.   A very anxious hotel manager, alarmed at the disappearance of one of his guests, made the dreaded call to the local police.  Once on the scene, the police conducted their own investigation.  It did not take long for them to list my aunt as a missing person, and the search began.