Newman. I so want to love it. But there is something fishy about this place.
It is a green oasis in the middle of some of the oldest rocks on the planet. For me it epitomises what the Outback is about: vast rolling hills, clay pans, gibber plains, spinifex and stunted trees, all with heaps of character. And endless skies, set on fire at the end of each day. That’s what I signed up for.
The town of 7,000 is nestled into one of the eastern most valleys of the Ophtalmia Range, surrounded by hills on three sides and open to the desert in the east. Lots of awesome views! All to totally different aspects, especially if you have a 4WD. And that’s really a Must if you want to explore this rough and rugged part of the world.
We arrive on the back end of a large rain system. The Fortescue River is full of water. The city’s dam is overflowing, creating beautiful spots to camp and swim and kayak.
First morning, dog and I explore the surrounds, walking the golf course all the way up to the water towers to great vistas. I am surprised how big this town is, despite small lots and narrow streets. Mining at Mt Whaleback, behind me is an entirely different story, but more about that later.
Continuing on, the rest of the morning is filled with shopping for food, cleaning and laundry utensils. Then up to Radio Hill Lookout for our first panoramic fix, taking in the lush, green city, the air is full of exotic scents. Wow!
The afternoon I spend time at the public pool right in the middle of town. It’s only a couple of hundred meters from our house and new work place. Can’t believe my luck as I am doing my laps - all by myself. A melange of tea tree and lemon perfume drifts across from the nearby park.
Everything in this town is only a stone throw away or a maximum of 30 minutes walk. We will give our 4WD beast a well earned rest at home while we explore the old fashioned way. Walking is great, but fly nets are an absolute must! Pesky little creatures! Not that they taste bad, but you never know where they have been, before committing harakiri in your throat.
Late evening is spent taking dog for another run. After 38 degrees, the bitumen still casts an incredible heat. It is close to physically painful. Dog and I find a nice walking trail through hills and natural bushland. One could forget that we are still within shouting distance of the town. As the sun sets, the eastern plains turn into an inky ocean black. The lights of Eastern Ridge and Jimblebar look like headlands. Car lights bobbing across the plains could be mistaken for boats skipping across the waves. Somewhere seagulls laugh.
The town has a nice centre square with a brand new big tv used for monthly outdoor movies. Opposite is the architecturally impressive Parnawarri Shopping Centre. Together with the East Pilbara Art Space and the new Puntukurnu Aboriginal Medical Centre, it certainly sets the tone for the town. A staggering number of groovy statues and murals are scattered throughout the city. Love, love, love the parklands and the big ovals, filled with half naked, sweaty footy players at night.
The town is lacking a good café.
Dôme Newman, our new home, has got great bones but a bad reputation as being slow, dirty, unfriendly and the food being of a questionable quality. We certainly have our work cut out. On day one, we roll up our sleeves and start with the windows, they eyes to any business. They have not seen a cleaner in three months and are downright filthy! Being this close to open cut mines, the air is heavy with dust. It settles everywhere. And it’s sticky. After a first session, my cleaning cloths are not salvageable. Curious onlookers are inviting me to do the same at their place. They won't be able to afford me!
The people of Newman are seriously nice. After several raised eyebrows, I manage to start conversations with tourists and guests, later with the general public. I join the chamber of commerce and the local book club. There are a lot of opinionated people, but once you get to know them, they are interesting and seriously worth chatting to. Especially as the population is so diverse: Balinese, New Zealanders, Philippinos, Germans, Franchies, South Americans, Chinese, Thai, African and even some Australians. Only a very small number are still residing here from the town’s beginning, 50 years ago. Hardly anyone makes it past seven years, and that’s already considered a ridiculously long time. People are here to make money. And do it fast. And then they bugger off. The majority of the population would be between 20 and 55 years of age.Granddad, a local celeb, just turned 70 and is certainly the exception. No wonder the local cemetery is tiny: no-one hangs around long enough to move in. Undertakers a dying breed in Newman.
So what is it that makes this place odd?
No shortage of dog food: Olli is helping himself to whatever he needs, alongside the road. I always wonder how one loses bones while wandering down the street. There must be a lot of chickens with leprosy, randomly dropping legs. Of course, as a responsible dog owner I have to make sure that he still gets his greens. Veggies never seem to wander around losing limbs or leaves…
That’s rubbish: Newman was once nominated for the Tidy-Town Award. And then all hell broke loose. There is crap everywhere! Some brave locals roll up their sleeves and spot-clean, just to have them spoilt again less than a week later. There are people here that seriously believe that littering keeps council workers employed. Bring it on!!!
Welcome residents: Upon request the council shares with New-manites mosquito repellant and a fridge manget listing the local snake handlers. And there are a lot of them - outnumbered only by the amount of garbage collectors and obviously mosquitos. Very reassuring, don’t you think?
Welcome tourists: The local visitor information centre is seriously nice. Ask them for a road map to the shires beauty spots. Even the spoilt ones. The chance that you find them is minute anyway; unless making sense of outdated instructions and finding roads that simply don’t exist anymore is your idea of a great day out. Perseverance is worth it though. A lot of the places are seriously nice! I do wonder though, what happens to the poor souls that don’t make it. Abandoned vehicles everywhere. Probably out of fuel. Or water. Or food. Or nerves. Or all of the above.
Where to live: Motel rooms are sparse and expensive. The idea of caravan parks has been abandoned until just recently. There is far more money to be made by renting out flats to mining companies, so why bother looking after visitors. Even if they intend to invest in the town and bring in more business and workers. Well, there is no affordable housing anyway, or business premises, so why bother.
Housing Jackpot: If you are employed by the mining industry, there is a great chance that you
A. make shit loads of money - seriously shit loads!
B. get supplied with free or heavily subsidised housing
C. don’t have to look after the place as it comes with free cleaners, gardeners and pool boys.
D. get free food if you live at one of the mining camps.
As a result people do not care. Just have fun. Like there is no tomorrow. The amount of muscle cars in town is staggering. Caravans and camper trailers in every second yard. Together with quad- and motorbikes. Even big yachts! Surprising for town, that’s 450 km’s from the ocean. I can see how, this eventually creates weird world views and a sense of entitlement. As in: how hard mining employees are doing it as their rosters only allow them to see their family in Perth every third week - for a whole week. Until then they work 12 hours every day. Did I mention that most of the companies pay for the air fares? And the Christmas Party that is set up of mining employees puts all of the towns festivals together to shame.
Curiously, this is true for the bottom end of the social ladder as well. Just without the toys, the parties and the service personnel.
Service Paradise: There are people in town who try to do a decent living, work their arses off and get nowhere as everything in this town is expensive. And hardly a prospect of bettering yourself. And that leads to a really high turn over of inmates (I chose this word deliberately) and a really odd service attitude, again at outrageous prices. Besides now two cafés, there are quite a number of take-aways doing mostly deep fried food, a curiously high number of fuel stations (doing even more deep fried food), a couple of supermarkets, a seriously under resourced hardware shop and a sad furniture store. No clothes or shoe shop, not even an oppie (hang-on, one just opened!), no cinema, no car wash (and that’s really needed). Toy store? Arts & craft? Butcher? Bakery? Naa.
But, if you can look past all this, the town and the surrounds are seriously nice.
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