Crispy as a goat

Back in Alice Springs now after a couple of nights in the bush, one in a very comfortable tented cabin complete with heat pump (these desert nights are damned chilly, you know) and last night in a swag under the stars, only just warm enough with three layers plus duvet plus thick canvas plus blanket over my head. But brilliant stars, especially once the moon had set, so hooray for the snorer who woke me up so I saw them.

We had a night and a morning with Craig le Rossignol, who's even more of a mixture than his name suggests, as he's mostly Aboriginal. He was excellent value: could talk the hind leg off a dingo, intelligent, articulate, thoughtful and happy to answer any questions we had about his culture - if only we could squeeze them in.

He showed us all sorts of stuff, but maybe the most bizarre was the kangaroo tail he threw into the campfire. His sons were in charge of singeing off the hair - before going back to their PSPs.

We ate the tail for smoko today: like lamb, very tender and good, though I was glad to get to a shower today to scrub the smell out from under my nails.