Morgan rips it up

As I rinsed the last vestiges of pure white Cape Le Grande sand from the skirts of the Prado this morning, I reflected on my recent mission from Woodend to Perth. This time was different to the others, I was headed West to live.

Striking out on Australia Day, fellow photographer Chrissie and I hit the road with excitement. Hours of photography podcasts lay before us, shimmering roads radiating 60 degree celsius heat, and a week of potential.¬†After countless kilometres of dusty, post-crop, wheat belt, we found ourselves gripping a refreshing beverage at the Terminus Hotel in Morgan, South Australia. The Morganites partied like they didn’t have to work in the morning. Enjoying the base notes from the adjacent Commercial Hotel’s Australia Day band, I couldn’t help but note an unofficial dress code of ultra-short, torn, Daisy Dukes or boardies, and cheek-to-achilles tattoos, with an uncommon preference for the southern cross constellation and the Australian flag. A little town with a lot of spirit.

S.A, wheatbelt

Tomorrow, the Gawler Ranges.