The Angel of Bang Kwang Prison by Susan Aldous, Nicola Pierce

industrial process on earth. There were years of heated debate over whether or not to mine the uranium, but money won out in the end. There was good reason for anger and fear of the mine and the damage it could do to the environment. The Kakadu National Park was established in the area in 1979 and houses more than a third of Australia’s bird population. It’s also contains some of the country’s best preserved archaeological sites, along with extensive rock art galleries. Aboriginal people have been living here for countless years so you can only imagine the importance of the area to them.
    We had to be cleared by security before we could access the camp. That was a tough life, especially for the 15 women working alongside the thousand or so highly testosteroned, boorish, loud-mouthed men. Now, this might sound like Heaven on earth to some girls out there but I tell you honestly that the place was utterly devoid of romance and sentiment! Of course there were some sweet lonely guys who quickly became favourites with me, Pete, and Brian. The three of us got on very well and kept each other sane during the hot, hot evenings when the working day was over.
    I worked with the handful of women in the kitchen. These women were tough; they had to be, and though I admired them I didn’t envy them their life-style or want to ape their toughness. We didn’t stay there past a couple of months and I was glad to leave. It was a strange isolated society that was built around manual labour. Life was regimental thanks to the rules of the camp. There was nothing cosy about the place—the men slept in cheap mobile homes that thankfully had air-conditioning. There was a drive-in cinema and plenty of bars but that was it as far as their social life went. I befriended one of the women, a mother of three young kids, and would accompany her when she went to the city to buy supplies once a month. You could buy stuff at the camp but it was generally marked up. The wages in the camp were really good—they had to be to attract people to work there in the first place. Anyway, getting back to civilisation once a month was worth the long drive. I couldn’t wait to have a coffee in a nice café and stroll through shops that would normally not interest me in the least. I felt I had returned from living on a strange planet and actually got some pleasure from looking at the relatively busy high street in Darwin.
    There was also a lot of wild life; well, more than I was used to in Melbourne. The nearby rivers ran into the ocean so you could frequently see sharks cavorting not too far from crocodiles. On one of our trips I saw the biggest snake I have ever seen in my life. It was a massive python and was slowly making its way across the quiet road. We drove over it and it was like going over a ramp. I was astonished to look back and see it continue on its way as we did ours, none the worse for having had a car loaded down with supplies on its back. That snake summed up life in the uranium mine camp; no matter what, you just did what you had to do, without fuss or ceremony.
    My years with Pete taught me that I was a born traveller, and paved the way for much of my life, constantly on the go. I just felt so free with my one small suitcase and backpack. I had few clothes and possessions but felt rich in myself. There is an amazing hitch-hike/backpacking network to be availed of; we met and befriended so many like-minded travellers of all nationalities, it was a complete revelation to me. I loved Perth and Queensland. The people in these two places were exceptionally friendly and I especially loved the mix of building styles in Perth—modern and colonial. Then again I loved the fabulously beautiful and cosmopolitan city that is Sydney, with its many beaches and parks. I’m a sucker for the beach!
    Nevertheless, I think one of the most memorable places was, for me, the cliffs of Nullaboor, not least because I thought I was going to die from the whooping