Clowning around with photographer Greg White. We had been on the road for a fortnight doing somewhat excruciating feature stories for the Summer Reading section on bypass towns and railway hotels, neither of which struck us as very riveting. It rained the entire trip, we had been damp, cold, cramped and wet doing stories we didn’t want to do; and then we booked into this guesthouse just outside Carcoar. It was owned by a gay couple who had fled Oxford Street for the quiet country life, and from a fortnight of misery, we were suddenly sitting in a pagoda being served breakfast with Mozart playing in the background. The couple eventually were forced to abandon their dream when one of them died of AIDS, but I always remember their kindness and the absolutely luxury of the beautiful guesthouse they had extensively renovated together. Greg was a great photographer to work with.
