Warm weather, wildlife and a slow pace of life – could a change of scenery be just what she needed?
BY GLYNIS SCRIVENS
I don’t believe it,” Lisa muttered. “How could I have done this again?” Here she was, driving into Kyogle. Again. Three times in a row.
How had she missed the turnoff?
She parked her rented Toyota in the main street outside a café. Life was different here. The locals seemed to move in slow motion compared to the busy commuters she normally faced every day in Glasgow.
Six weeks Down Under. Sunshine, blue skies and friendly people. That’s what she’d told her envious friends as they waved her off that chilly, drizzly afternoon at the airport.
But would the reality live up to her expectations? She couldn’t even find the farm she’d inherited from her uncle.
She sat at an outdoor table, soaking up the sunshine. A waiter approached.
“I’m looking for Barkersvale farm,” she said, after ordering an espresso. “I don’t suppose you know where it is?”
He smiled. “You’re not the first person to ask that,” he said.
Was that the hint of a Scottish accent she detected?
“You must’ve driven past the entrance,” he said. “Even the postman took a while to find it.”
“Can you tell me how to find it?” she asked.
“It’s probably best if I show you,” he said. “I’ll check with the boss.”
As he walked over to the counter to talk to the woman at the coffee machine, Lisa felt a mixture of unease and optimism. Was he planning to go in her car? She wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that. But at least he knew the way.
She felt relieved – and shy – when he returned holding a motorbike helmet and black leather jacket.
“I’ll join you out the front of the café,” he said.
“I’ll be in a white Toyota,” she replied.
A few minutes later, she saw him approaching. He sat on his motorbike the way some men sit on a horse. Lanky and masculine, with echoes of Clint Eastwood in The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. She liked what she saw.
She didn’t even know his name, she realised, as she began to follow him. Not far out of town, his bike stopped and she drew in beside him.
“This is it,” he said, smiling at her puzzled face.
Lisa looked more closely at the bushy surrounds. Near a large grey milk churn, she noticed a rough path.
“Surely you don’t mean that?” she said, pointing to it.
“The same,” he said. “That milk
