From a romance that began in a European shearing shed to dawn prayers at Woolgoolga and a Father’s Day invitation in a Queensland cane paddock, September offered Ian ‘Macca’ McNamara another wonderfully unpredictable collection of Australian stories.
You never quite know where Australia All Over will take you. One minute Macca is hearing about a Dutch backpacker who ended up marrying an Australian shearer; the next, he’s talking to a barrel racer at a service station in Hay, learning about masala dosas or discovering why a group of women from Echuca–Moama have spent 16 years taking walking holidays without their husbands.
September’s broadcasts found Macca travelling through South Australia’s Riverland and meeting people whose stories reached well beyond the Murray. There were conversations about the changing fortunes of farming, the experiences of seasonal workers, the pleasure of travelling without a timetable and the friendships that can grow from something as simple as a Saturday morning walk.
Some exchanges were funny, others thoughtful, and a few managed to be both.
A Shearing-Shed Romance That Crossed Continents
Rob had spent years shearing sheep around Australia before a family connection took him to Holland, where a farmer had 2,000 sheep waiting to be shorn. That opportunity led to a decade of work across Europe, including Austria, which Rob remembered particularly fondly after the heat and isolation of some Australian shearing districts.
“Especially when you’ve been shearing in Wilcannia or something like that for six months, and then you end up flying to Austria and start shearing in Austria,” he told Macca.
His most enduring memory of Europe, however, had less to do with sheep than with a Dutch backpacker named Anjo, who happened to be working on a farm when one of Rob’s employees became ill. She offered to help in the shearing shed for a couple of weeks and enjoyed herself so much that she refused payment, explaining that she was on holiday and having a wonderful time.
“And you know what he said? If you work for nothing, I’ll marry you.”
It was an unconventional proposal, although it evidently worked. The couple had been together for about 30 years when Macca met them, and Anjo spoke warmly about the years they had spent travelling between shearing sheds and meeting people from all walks of life.
Rob recalled the old sheds along the Murray and Darling rivers, particularly those built when riverboats still played an important role in moving wool. These days, the couple are semi-retired and have bought a houseboat near Loxton, bringing them back to the waterways that had featured so prominently in Rob’s earlier working life.
For Anjo, the travelling and the hard work were inseparable from the pleasure of it all. “It’s not just a job, it’s a lifestyle,” she said. “You love it or you hate it, and we both loved it.”
Candy’s Life in the Fast Lane — on Horseback
At a service station in Hay, Macca encountered Candy, who was travelling from Lewiston in South Australia to Tamworth with two young quarter horses in her float. She was heading to the Australian Barrel Horse Association National Finals, where riders compete to negotiate three barrels as quickly as possible without knocking them over.
Candy had been riding since childhood, starting at pony club before progressing through eventing and showjumping. She took up barrel racing in 2005 and, by the time of her conversation with Macca, had around 18 horses at home and a competition schedule that took her across much of eastern and southern Australia.
“Be the fastest person around three barrels,” she explained when Macca asked what the event involved. “It seems not difficult, but it’s extremely difficult.”
She told him she was then the highest money earner on the Australian Professional Rodeo Association’s barrel-racing circuit, and that she had won the Hay Rodeo earlier in the year. Those were Candy’s accounts of her achievements rather than independently confirmed rankings, but her experience of the sport was unmistakable.
The financial rewards were another matter. Asked whether there was much money in barrel racing, Candy replied, “In Australia, no. In America, yes.” She estimated that establishing a serious competitive operation in the United States could require an investment approaching a million dollars, particularly once horses, travel and other expenses were considered.
Her Australian circuit already involved considerable travelling, with southern competitions generally occupying the warmer months and Queensland events drawing riders north during winter. On this occasion, there were two horses to transport, another long stretch of highway ahead and a national competition waiting in Tamworth.
Dawn Prayers, Masala Dosas and a Welcome for Everyone
John was sitting on the headland at Woolgoolga, watching the waves roll in, when he rang Macca in Renmark. He had just attended prayers at the local Sikh temple, where a small group gathered between 4.30 and 5.30 in the morning to sing and chant.
There was something special, he explained, about entering the temple in darkness and emerging after sunrise. He described the experience simply as “magical”.
John’s family history in the region stretched back generations. According to his account, his grandfather had arrived in the Grafton district in 1885, and he had grown up around Coffs Harbour with strong connections to Woolgoolga’s Sikh community.
The town was preparing for its annual Curryfest, with the 2026 celebration marking the festival’s 20th anniversary. John spoke proudly about the event and the opportunity it provided for people from different backgrounds to meet, share food and learn something about one another.
Macca was particularly interested in the food, especially when John mentioned masala dosas. He explained that a dosa could be served plain or filled with spiced potatoes, often accompanied by coconut chutney, and encouraged Macca to try one rather than sticking to his familiar meat-and-two-vegetables diet.
Their discussion eventually moved into religion and cultural identity. Drawing on his own understanding of Sikhism, John emphasised the importance of treating people as individuals and welcoming visitors regardless of their background or beliefs.
He spoke about the meals provided at the temple and the way sharing food could bring strangers together. The same principle guided his approach to the curry stall, where he enjoyed talking with customers rather than simply handing over their meals.
“The more you engage with the people, there’s a beautiful energy happening,” he told Macca.
The invitation to visit the temple was warmly extended, although Macca seemed less enthusiastic about getting out of bed before dawn. Fortunately, John explained, afternoon prayers were another possibility, and there would still be food and chai afterwards.
Two Triumphs, One Marriage and the Freedom of the Road
Leah and Craig were travelling through Hay on separate Triumph motorcycles, with Leah riding Craig’s former Thunderbird and Craig aboard a 1700 Night Storm. They were heading towards Dubbo, hoping to take in the Bathurst circuit along the way, although the precise itinerary was still open to negotiation.
“We never plan, we just jump on the bike and go,” Leah explained.
The trip was also a birthday celebration, as Leah had turned 61 the previous day. She worked as a nurse and estimated that she rode between 9,000 and 10,000 kilometres annually, sometimes using her Fridays off to explore the Riverland.
Craig had recently retired from operating tractors on a large citrus property, although he still had a small vineyard to keep him occupied. He enjoyed the freedom of the road and the chance to travel without having to think too much about anything else.
“Just getting out there, mate. Looking around, nothing to worry about,” was how he described it.
Their motorcycling had also taken them to Alice Springs as part of Black Dog Ride, an initiative associated with mental health awareness and suicide prevention. Leah spoke about the fundraising they had undertaken through their involvement, while making it clear that the trips themselves were something they both enjoyed.
Macca asked Leah what she liked about travelling with her husband, prompting one of the more memorable answers of the month. “I don’t have to talk to him. But I do love him.”
With separate motorcycles, plenty of open road and no rigid schedule, the arrangement seemed to suit them both.
The Fijian Workers Behind Australia’s Fruit Harvest
Among the people Macca met in Renmark were three men from Fiji who had been working in the district’s citrus orchards. Tona, Manik and Jerry were part of a group of 15 seasonal workers whose Australian employment took them between different fruit-growing regions as crops came into season.
They had spent three months picking oranges and were preparing to travel to Grafton for blueberry harvesting, with Tasmania expected to follow for more work involving berries. The men described a nine-month stay in Australia before returning to Fiji, where Tona also farmed crops including cassava.
Macca was interested in the practical side of their work, particularly the large collecting bags used during orange picking. The men confirmed that the bags could become very heavy, making the job physically demanding over a full working day.
They nevertheless spoke positively about their earnings and the people they had encountered during their time in Australia. Their comments reflected their own experiences, without necessarily describing the conditions faced by other seasonal workers.
“Good money, good people. Nice to meet the Australian people. Thank you so much,” one of the men told Macca.
He thanked them for their contribution to Australia’s fruit harvest and reminded them that relatives back in Fiji might be able to hear the broadcast. For workers spending much of the year away from home, that possibility added a personal dimension to an otherwise ordinary morning beside the Murray.
Forty Wet Seasons in Kakadu and a Riverland Boy Who Went North
Andy Ralph had grown up around Monash in South Australia’s Riverland, where his family history was closely connected to the development of irrigation farming. According to Andy, his grandfather had been allocated a block after returning from service in France during the First World War.
Andy eventually found his way into radio at Berri before deciding to move north, a decision that had kept him in the Northern Territory for about four decades.
He was now living in Kakadu and working in Arnhem Land, close enough to the northern coastline to joke that going any further would put him in the Arafura Sea.
With temperatures reaching around 38 degrees, the region was beginning its transition towards the wet season. Andy explained that the seasonal changes in Kakadu were more complex than a simple division between wet and dry, something reflected in the traditional seasonal knowledge of the region’s Aboriginal peoples.
After approximately 40 wet seasons, he had seen how much the timing and intensity of rainfall could vary. The previous year had brought a late wet and significant flooding, while his hope for the approaching season was for early showers, a good monsoon around Christmas and a reasonably settled finish in March or April.
Despite spending so long in the Top End, Andy retained an affectionate interest in the Riverland, including the fate of Renmark’s Big Orange.
He recalled once suggesting on radio that somebody should sneak out at midnight, paint the landmark yellow and rename it the Big Lemon, an idea that probably said as much about his sense of humour as his views on roadside attractions.
Macca hoped to visit the Northern Territory again, giving the two men another chance to catch up after years spent at opposite ends of the country.
Evie and Isla Give City Children a Taste of Farm Life
At the Royal Adelaide Show, Year 11 students Evie and Isla were helping introduce visiting children to farm animals at the Learning Centre, where the motto was “Look, Touch and Listen”.
Both attended Urrbrae Agricultural High School, which gave them opportunities to learn about agriculture, animal care and the environment alongside their regular studies.
For children growing up in metropolitan Adelaide, the show offered a chance to see animals close up and ask questions that might never arise during an ordinary school day. Evie and Isla enjoyed helping younger visitors make those discoveries, and their enthusiasm was evident when Macca asked about their plans after graduation.
Isla hoped to study veterinary science and was interested in the university pathways available through agricultural education. Evie was drawn towards environmental science and conservation, particularly work involving animals and the natural environment.
Macca remembered being interested in agriculture himself when he was younger, and he spoke about the importance of encouraging students to consider careers connected with food production, animal health and environmental management.
The conversation also included a mention of a grandmother named Rosalind, who was a regular listener to Australia All Over. It was a small personal detail amid the bustle of the Royal Adelaide Show, but one that connected the girls’ enthusiasm for agriculture with the familiar pleasure of hearing someone you know on the radio.
A Century-Old Bridge and Bob’s Pistachio Surprise
Wayne and Bob were neighbours in the Renmark district, although their interests led Macca from local railway history to the economics of growing pistachios.
Wayne was chairman of the Renmark Paringa Community Museum, which was preparing for the centenary of the Paringa Bridge. Opened on 31 January 1927, the bridge is distinguished by its vertical lifting span, designed to accommodate river traffic.
The museum was also restoring a railway carriage dating from 1938, part of an effort to preserve the district’s transport history. Wayne recalled how the railway had once provided an important connection for local producers and residents, before changes in road transport gradually altered the way people and goods moved through the Riverland.
Bob, meanwhile, had been growing pistachios since 1983, when the crop was still relatively unusual in the area. He explained that pistachio trees required patience, with growers often waiting around six years before obtaining a meaningful harvest.
The methods had changed considerably during his time in the industry, particularly as mechanical harvesting replaced much of the work once done by hand.
Bob believed pistachios were performing comparatively well at a time when some other crops, including wine grapes, were facing difficult market conditions. He was nevertheless cautious about the possibility of too many growers entering the industry and creating an oversupply.
Macca also wanted to know whether pistachios were good for you, prompting Bob to offer a rather unexpected answer. “Aphrodisiacs,” he declared.
Macca made him repeat the word, and the conversation briefly wandered away from agricultural economics before returning to the more practical concerns of growing and selling nuts.
Six Generations of Fruit Growing, and a Business That Had to Change
Michael Roy’s family had been involved in South Australian agriculture for six generations, with a history he traced back to nineteenth-century European migration and the establishment of farming communities in the colony.
Over time, the family had worked with livestock, cereals and horticulture, eventually concentrating on fruit production around Renmark.
Michael’s present operation grew crops including apricots, pears, plums, nectarines and peaches, but he explained that producing good fruit was only part of what was required to keep a farming business viable.
About 25 years earlier, someone had advised him to stop thinking solely as a grower. Michael gradually came to see the importance of controlling more of what happened to his produce after it left the orchard.
He told Macca that his business now handled production, processing, packaging, marketing and freight, allowing him to take a more direct role in selling the fruit rather than relying entirely on intermediaries.
The operation employed a permanent workforce, supplemented by seasonal workers during the harvest. Michael recalled one employee who had been associated with the business for 65 years, a remarkable period of service in an industry where physical work could be particularly demanding.
During the hottest parts of a Riverland summer, he explained, fruit picking often had to finish around lunchtime.
Michael also spoke about the commercial pressure he believed growers faced to harvest fruit before it had fully matured. In his experience, allowing fruit to ripen longer could improve flavour, particularly when it was destined for drying rather than immediate sale.
He made additional claims about the nutritional benefits of dried fruit, although those would require separate scientific evidence before being treated as established health advice. His broader point concerned the relationship between ripeness, flavour and the commercial decisions growers had to make.
Macca was interested in the quality of local apricots, and Michael had brought along some jam for him to try. An invitation to visit the farm followed, although Macca was quick to establish one condition. “I’m not going picking, man.”
Sixteen Years of Walking, Talking and Leaving the Husbands at Home
The women Macca encountered in Renmark had been taking walking holidays together for around 16 years, beginning when several members of the group were approaching their 50th birthdays.
Many had worked in agriculture or related industries around Echuca and Moama, and they decided they needed more opportunities to enjoy themselves away from their everyday responsibilities.
Walking became the common activity, but the friendships soon developed a life of their own. Over the years, the group travelled across Australia and ventured overseas to New Zealand and Vietnam, finding new places to explore and plenty of time to talk along the way.
Macca initially assumed they were runners, having recently spoken to someone involved in parkrun.
“We’re not runners, Macca. We’re walkers,” Sue corrected him, while another member added that they were walkers and talkers.
Joanna was more interested in explaining what the group had come to mean to its members. “Friendship, love, support, women looking after each other.”
They had helped one another through difficult stretches of terrain and supported each other through personal challenges, with the annual trips providing a regular opportunity to reconnect.
Macca wondered whether men were ever invited to join, but the women were quite content to travel without their husbands. The men apparently had their own tradition of gathering for a deserted husbands’ dinner while their wives were away.
The walkers insisted that nobody in their group was ever left behind, which gave Macca an opening to ask whether the husbands might disagree. The women seemed perfectly happy to leave that question unanswered.
Susie and the Saturday Morning Ritual Beside the Murray
Renmark’s Saturday morning parkrun had become a regular gathering for locals and visitors by the time Macca met Susie, who had been involved with the event for around a decade.
She told him the local course had reached its 463rd event and generally attracted between 50 and 70 participants, although holiday periods could bring considerably larger numbers.
The five-kilometre route followed the riverfront, and Susie particularly enjoyed hearing visitors comment on the scenery.
Macca was less enthusiastic about the running itself, joking that someone ought to find the man responsible for inventing parkrun and sue him.
Susie explained that running was entirely optional. “You don’t have to run. You can walk.”
That accessibility was part of what she valued about the event. Some participants arrived intending only to walk, then gradually began jogging and eventually found themselves trying to improve their personal best times. Others were content to enjoy the company, exercise and familiar Saturday morning routine.
Susie had watched her own children grow up around parkrun, progressing from youngsters attending with the family to runners in their own right.
She volunteered as a run director every few weeks and participated herself on other Saturdays, making the event both a community commitment and something she continued to enjoy personally.
On the morning Macca visited, she estimated that roughly half the participants were visitors, an indication of how the Renmark course had become part of the wider parkrun network.
For Susie, the riverfront setting was a source of pride, and the regular gathering gave her another reason to appreciate the town she called home.
Pino’s Father’s Day Invitation — Breakfast in a Cane Paddock
Pino had an invitation for Macca that involved a sugarcane paddock near Ingham, a harvesting crew and a breakfast tradition his family had maintained for years.
Every Father’s Day, his wife brought food out to the workers, who stopped harvesting for about half an hour before returning to their machines. Pino thought it would make an ideal setting for an Australia All Over broadcast and invited Macca to join them the following year.
The only complication was the working day, which began at three in the morning.
“If you want to start at the same time as we do, at 3 am, well, you can be here at 3 am,” Pino offered, adding that Macca would be welcome to climb aboard the harvester and travel through the cane with him.
Their discussion moved into the progress of the North Queensland sugar season. Pino estimated that harvesting was around 58 or 59 per cent complete, with the crop broadly comparable to the previous year, although he remained concerned about rain interrupting the remaining work.
Macca was interested in the ownership of Queensland’s sugar mills, and Pino spoke about several of the major companies operating in the industry. He also expressed disappointment about the closure of the Mossman mill, reflecting on the changes affecting communities where sugarcane had been an important part of local life for generations.
He hoped the industry would remain viable and continue providing work in North Queensland, although he made no attempt to predict what the future would bring.
The conversation eventually returned to breakfast, with Macca suggesting that perhaps they could arrange a visit without waiting until Father’s Day.
Pino was happy to consider it, but there was an obvious advantage to coming on the traditional date: that was when his wife would be bringing the food.
Whether Macca ever found himself broadcasting from an Ingham cane paddock at three in the morning remained to be seen, but the invitation was genuine, and the prospect of breakfast among the harvesters was clearly appealing.
Listen to the podcast episode here.
Disclaimer: ‘Australia All Over’ is a program produced and broadcast by the ABC Local Radio Network and hosted by Ian McNamara. Brisbane Suburbs Online News has no affiliation with Ian McNamara, the ABC, or the ‘Australia All Over’ program. This weekly review is an independent summary based on publicly available episodes. All original content and recordings remain the property of the ABC. Our summaries are written in our own words and are intended for commentary and review purposes only. Readers can listen to the full episodes via the official ABC platforms.
