About 500 Days

Personal account > Photo collection > Greg Jackson > Bristol

Revisiting a collection of prose, letters, photos and thoughts from over 500 days journeying in and around Australia.

In this time I made and then left best friends, and a different life.

She was beautiful & hard.

Wake up for 8, passport, ticket, leave at 8.45: Footscray 1, North Melb 3, Brunswick. Take all money out. Leaving the country at 1pm. Head to Hillvale / munro for 10. Pick up negs / tee. Get to airport for 10 in Jackaroo.

“pingadingding, you’ve reached the pingking”

With last nights broken feels of admission, guilt + lust, the little moments of passion flooded through, only to be thwarted by my immediate and unwanted anxiety. Why am I the one that cares? The few nights spent stroking angels hair, if not just laying feelings bare to each others throat lumps of what could have been and what could be told. I never thought I’d make an angel cry.

The west was carved with diazepam and sweet lips doused with the taste of alcohol the touch but nothing more. I do this to myself. Night degrades to morning and the three nights to what could be been as I start the journey back home to reality, as if the past life I left wasn’t real enough.

My personalised Sal paradise, kept under lock and key by the angst of teenage readings of beat poetry. Pushing to be re-read at in appropriate times when the mundane is at the door and the adventures lost the key.

She jumped my bones

It’s okay to be a spectator

Sometimes you have to sleep with the devil

Aggressively single

That time I took a mermaid home

Stroking angels hair

Fun’s fun, but who needs it.

I had to make a personal call whilst Joe filled up the beast and then he went to the dunny for what felt like fucking hours. I thought the prick had actually left me stranded until he finally emerged. We ate some pasty goods because they obviously so fucking good (Joes sorta sucked lol eat shit Joe – no pun) and then we made our way north to the bay of fires. Alright. This is where our day turned from good to the fucking greatest.


We pulled up to crystal blue waters, white sands and red scorched rocks. We bailed from the car and ran around like mad men, digging the shit out of this incredible beach. So much so that we decided we had to stay, which was for free btw. A quick stop into St. Helens for a couple of supplies (um beer and red wine of course cunts) and the attempted theft of some fire wood and we were back on the road to the sickest place we’ve seen on this island. We ate quickly, and then I got the fire cracking. Tunes ablaze and fire pounding, we sunk our Boags draughts, spilt and drank our $5 reds, stole some firewood off old people (it was wet though – cunts) and star gazed.

It was a killer night, easily the best so far. We ended up fair wasted and figured it was time To crack open the 10mg vals to really dig the night, and oh boy, did they work a treat. So much so that I even set the car alarm off in a pharmaceutical stupor that had to be rescued by the equally as wasted Joe. We snoozed it off nice and toasty.


Thank you Melbourne, Hillvale, Munro, Footscray & everyone else.