Issue Details: First known date: 2007 2007
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'Some dozen years ago, I rented a caravan in Adelaide for our family. It has a solid, glittering roo-bar in front and a prison-like wire-grating on the windscreen, fragmenting our view of the wide landscape into little safe squares. When we picked up that impressive vehicle, the rental manager routinely cautioned us that we should by all means stay on sealed roads, and he asked, just to make sure, "Are you going anywhere north of Port Augusta?" - "Yes," we said, "we would like to travel up to Alice and the Red Centre." - "Stuart Highway," he said, "but watch out, there's everything different there, you can get lost in no time, and you never know..." - "Know what?" we were about to ask, but that seemed too much of a sophistry in exchange for the goodly advise given by this good man, who did not look like a philosopher . Though a philosopher of sorts he may have been, following the thought-lines laid out through centuries of coping with dark and ill-defined spaces.' (Author's abstract)

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Last amended 28 Jun 2011 12:31:45
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