So after a seven hour high speed car chase through the desert from
Woomera, S.A., the loathsome Flesh Beasts of the Department of Immigration,
Multicultural and Indigenous Affaris lost my scent. I made good my
retreat to Fitzroy with my prize - the never-before-heard-of Australian Visa
Extension for Working Holiday Visa Holders (No. 478). Time.
Time, indeed. A visa extension was not the only possible way to extend
my current antipodean lifestyle. Plan B had been to go to Kiwi-land
for two weeks. Because of the last minute nature of my situation (four
days to leave the country), flights were fiendishly expensive. To
compensate for this potential attack on my finances, I had decided that
on arrival in Auckland to immediately buy 24 tins of tuna and go bush walking
for two weeks. Fortunately, thanks to friend with access to high explosives,
and a 1982 Holden Commodore, a daring midnight raid on the DIMIA office secured
the documents I required.
Again with time. I now have 3 whole months to get into hideous
debt in the "Lucky Country". I need to secure employment as soon as
possible. Being unemployed is all well and good, but when you've been
scavenging through the rotting carcasses of the IT sector for work since
the end of August, you begin to feel a little bitter. On the up side,
the middle of an Australian summer is a fine time to find yourself on the
scratcher.
