Meet Margaret

No no, Gaius isn't married at all, said The VeloDrone. Not as far as I know. Are you married at all, Margaret?

I'm a widow, said Margaret.

Oh, said The VeloDrone. Aha. Well, let us hurry along. It is getting near lunch time.

They retraced their steps past the Contemplation and up and around the cliff path back to the Exeloo at Marino Rocks.

Phew! said Le Bon David. That was taxing! I say, where is everyone?

They looked around, but the Field Geologists were nowhere to be seen.

What's the time? asked Margaret, looking at her watch. Oh it's twelve thirty. They'll have gone on to Hallett Cove, in the bus.

What! said Le Bon David. Why?

That was the plan, said Margaret. There's nowhere to sit here. We were going to have the picnic lunch on the grass at Hallett Cove. Never mind, we can walk.

No we can't, said Le Bon David. I've had enough.

We'll catch the train, then, said Margaret. The station is just up the road.

There's a train? said The VeloDrone. Does it go back to town?

NO! said Margaret. Well, it does, but we are not going back into town. Whatever are you thinking!

Nothing, said The VeloDrone. Alright, let's catch the train. Gaius owes us some of his chicken.

So he does, said Le Bon David. Two thirds of his chicken. I could just do with that. And icecream was mentioned.

And an introduction, said Margaret.

......

They walked up the road to the station and waited for the train. Half an hour later they arrived at Hallett Cove to find Gaius and the Field Geologists sitting on the grass polishing off the last of the chickens.

They sat down next to Gaius.

Where have you been? asked Gaius, wiping chicken grease from his lips. You've missed all the fun.

Not all of it, said Le Bon David. Gaius, meet Margaret.

Gaius looked at Margaret.

Hello Margaret, he said.

Coming Down

You're very sharp, Mr Vello, said Margaret. For a philosopher, she added.

I'm not just any philosopher, said The VeloDrone. I've been at it for a very long time, and so has David.

Why haven't I heard of you? said Margaret. It's not as though there are many philosophers about these days. There's that nice young Alain de Botton....

Yes yes, Alain de Botton! said The Velodrone. There is him. But perhaps you've heard of Voltaire and David Hume?

That's you? exclaimed Margaret.

One of them is, said The VeloDrone. Guess which one.

You are Voltaire , said Margaret, because David is too fat. I apologise for not knowing who you were. We weren't introduced. Well well, I am in luck!

The VeloDrone was already regretting that he had revealed himself.

In luck, he said faintly.

Yes, said Margaret. Because I'm learning French.

Aha, said The VeloDrone. David is excellent at French. Shall we go down?

They went down the zigzag path and found Le Bon David snoozing in the sun.

Bonjour David, said Margaret. Comment ca va?

Pardon? said David, waking suddenly. Oh Margaret. It's you. Why are you speaking in French?

Margaret is taking lessons, said The Velodrone quickly. And she's heard that you speak excellent French.

I speak excellent French for a Scotsman, said Le Bon David. Vello here is your man if you want a native speaker.

And here's something that will amuse you, David, said The VeloDrone. She thinks you're too fat to be me.

What does she mean? said Le Bon David. I've lost weight since I rode in the Tour de France.

You rode in the Tour de France! said Margaret. Now I'm really in luck. I'm thinking of buying a bicycle....

I think it's time we got back to the Field Geologists picnic, said Le Bon David. We were going to introduce you to Gaius. He rides a bicycle too.

Really? said Margaret. Tell me, your friend Gaius, is he married at all?

Picky Picky

Picky, picky, said Margaret.

I thought you were trying to be nicer, said The VeloDrone.

This is me being nicer, said Margaret. Now, would you two like to reconsider and climb up to look at the Tjilbruke Monument? It's worth it.

But it's so steep, said Le Bon David. Look at all those vertical steps.

We don't have to go up the vertical steps, said Margaret. We can go up the zigzag path and look at the plants on the way.

Oh alright, said The VeloDrone. I'm in. What about you David?

No, I'll wait down here, said Le Bon David. Tell me about it when you get back.

Margaret and The Velodrone zigzagged up the path, past various dead plants, and prickles of interest. At the top they were rewarded by the sight of a huge stone monument, made up of five stones, representing Old Tjilbruke carrying the dead Kulultiwi.

This monument has been here since 1972, said Margaret. The sculptor John Dowie said he found the stones at Tungkillo, lying near one another, as though the sculpture was simply waiting to be assembled.

Eerie, said The VeloDrone. And what's the rock?

Gneiss, said Margaret.

I thought it was meant to be his nephew, said The Velodrone.

Food for Thought

Margaret seemed to acquiesce. They walked over to the Kingston Caravan Park cafe where Le Bon David ordered a smoked salmon and avocado foccaccia and The VeloDrone ordered salami with semidried tomato. Margaret took a bottle of water from her backpack.

Now, said Le Bon David, tell us the story of Old Tjilbruke.

It's a story from the Dreamtime of the Kaurna people, said Margaret. This is their traditional country. The story explains how the seven freshwater springs between here and Rapid Bay came into existence.

Aha, said Le Bon David. Here's our food! Go on, Margaret.

Old Tjilbrike was a man of the law, continued Margaret. One day his nephew Kulultuwi killed an emu that should have been Tjilbruke's to kill. Tjilbruke forgave his nephew, but some time later Kulultuwi was killed by his two half brothers for breaking the law, or so they claimed. Tjilbruke being a man of the law had to determine whether the killing was legal.

Let me guess, said The VeloDrone, picking at a slice of salami. He found it was illegal.

Yes, said Margaret. He judged it to be murder. So he speared the two brothers and burned them. This happened at Warriparinga, not far from here. Then Tjilbruke carried the partly smoked and dried body of his nephew here to the spring to complete the smoking.

Le Bon David swallowed a piece of smoked salmon thoughtfully. The VeloDrone chewed on a sundried tomato.

Then, said Margaret, he carried the body all the way down the coast to Rapid Bay, for burial in a cave. Many times on the way he wept, overcome by sadness, for he had loved his nephew. In the seven places where Tjilbruke wept seven freshwater springs were formed. After that Tjilbruke no longer wanted to live as a man. His spirit became a bird, the tjilbruke, or glossy ibis, and his body became a rocky outcrop of iron pyrites somewhere north of Nairne.

Bravo the Kaurna people! A wonderful multi-layered story, said The VeloDrone.

Indeed, said Le Bon David. A story of creation, the law, human relationships.....

But there's one thing wrong with it, said The VeloDrone.

What's that? asked Margaret, taking a sip of spring water.

I thought human tears were salty, said The VeloDrone.

Getting On

Lick it! said Le Bon David. Lick the sand?

Well, you don't have to lick it, said Margaret, but you could.

Why would we? asked The VeloDrone.

Because, said Margaret grandly, it is wet with the waters of a natural freshwater spring! Come with me, and I'll show you.

They walked a little further round the bay. The sand looked rather powdery and dry.

Oh dear, said Margaret. You can see it sometimes. Perhaps it's better in the evening. The freshwater seeps out through the sand and drains into the sea. They say it's the tears of Old Tjilbruke.

She waited for The VeloDrone or Le Bon David to ask her about Old Tjilbruke, but neither of them seemed inclined to do so.

Is that the cafe over there? asked Le Bon David. I rather fancy a nice filled foccaccia, or baguette.

And a coffee, said The VeloDrone.

Margaret looked mightily put out.

Oh, come on, Margaret, said The VeloDrone. You can tell us about Old Tjilbruke later.

Before we do that, she said, I thought we might climb up the hill to the Tjilbruke monument, and see the interesting native vegetation on the way.

She gestured towards the hill. It was small enough but the path looked rather steep.

Margaret, said Le Bon David, I think it's time we had a little talk.

No,no, said Margaret. I know what you're going to say. I always end up overdoing things and driving people mad. I think perhaps they find me rather bossy.

She looked as though she might be going to cry.

There, there, said Le Bon David. Do you know what I think, Margaret? I think we should go to the cafe and have something to eat while you tell us the story of Old Tjilbruke.

Absolutely, agreed The VeloDrone. Then, we should wander back to the Field Geologists' picnic. I think we ought to introduce you to our good friend Gaius. I have a feeling that you and he would get on swimmingly.

of the....

We're not sitting on rocks! said Margaret crossly.

No, we're sitting on a hard wooden plank, said Le Bon David. I do know the difference. I was merely observing that sand is much nicer to sit on.

I agree with you there, said The VeloDrone. But only in part.

How's that? asked Le Bon David.

It's important to have a rest for the back, said The VeloDrone. Otherwise one can't sit for long. I have often had recourse to digging a small hole, with a pleasantly angled bottom, and a heap of sand for a back rest. That I find is quite comfortable.

As long as the sand is not damp, said Le Bon David.

Agreed, said The VeloDrone. It is advisable to cover it with a large beach towel.

Yes, one should always remember a beach towel, said Le Bon David. As well as a spade.

Is this what philosophers talk about? scoffed Margaret. Here we are, in the midst of the Contemplation, and you're on about beach towels and spades! Do you realise you're sitting on the words of a Croatian poet?

Sorry, Margaret, said The VeloDrone, looking down at the text in the wood.

But Margaret was sitting on it, which made it difficult to read.

"of the....." read The VeloDrone.

Never mind, said Margaret. You two like damp sand. You'll get damp sand. Come with me.

We don't like damp sand, said Le Bon David mildly. We just said.

No matter, said Margaret. You don't sit on this sand, you just lick it.

The Contemplation

Margaret strode ahead of them along the cliff path.

Phew! said Le Bon David. What a bossy woman!

Come on, said The VeloDrone. We'd better catch up. The sooner we see the Contemplation the sooner we'll get something to eat.

They caught up to Margaret, who had descended into a small bay in which they could see a ship's mast, an upturned cement boat and a flat wooden panel inscribed with text.

Oh no, groaned Le Bon David. Another artwork!

Sit down here, said Margaret. Isn't this tranquil. It's the Contemplation. It is the work of Marjiana Tadic, and it represents the relationships between cultural groups and individuals with the surrounding environment.

Lovely, said The VeloDrone. A sort of shipwreck.

They sat down on the flat panel and contemplated the Contemplation.

Look! said David. It's much nicer around the bend there! It even looks like there might be some sand!

You like sand? asked Margaret. Then you are a geologist after all.

I't's better than rocks, said Le Bon David. You can sit on it comfortably.