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People think that the social hub of any small village is the pub, but we locals know that the true socialising happens at the tip. We don’t have rubbish collection here in the village, so every weekend people load up their utes to take the rubbish to the tip.
The future wine makers love going to the tip with dad. It is a very colourful place filled with people, utes, big machines and of course rubbish. It is fascinating to watch people exchange their rubbish. One couple dumps a no longer needed baby cot and another picks it up and dumps their freedom in the process.
All the ‘good’ rubbish is left in one area where you can ‘window shop’ for that unwanted piece of treasure. Some of the locals are quite professional at tip scavenging. They hang out for certain things like computers that they can re-build, do up and sell on e-bay. One of my friends complains that her husband comes home from the tip with more rubbish than he left home with.
However, the most important thing that happens at the tip is the ‘bush telegraph’ communication. A journey to the tip is as much about standing around and having a chat with the locals as it is about the dumping and exchange of rubbish. Every weekend, Mark comes home armed with information about the village - Important things like how much rain people had at their property, how the crops are faring, cattle prices at the sale yards, micron counts on fleece and whose husband has been caught looking for greener pastures. Forget the hairdresser - the tip man knows everything.
It is often the case, when people recite little anecdotes, that I ask where they heard their information. Inevitably the answer is usually “at the tip”. Of course we all know if you heard it at the tip then it must be gospel.
This article has 3 comments.
“My husband is the biggest tip scavenger. Drives me crazy. Very funny
-- Georgina (June 5, 2010) ”