The air out here at Stonehenge Gully has a way of holding its breath just before the work begins. I am standing on the edge of the site for The Batch, looking out over the red dirt of Central West Queensland, and the silence is heavy. It is mid March, that sticky time of year when the peak summer heat starts to tangle with the humidity of the late wet season. The flies are thick today, a constant reminder that out here, the environment is always the boss. I have not broken the ground yet, but the plan is locked in for the batch, and the gear is officially on its way.
My mind keeps drifting back to a metallic blue 1984 Toyota Corolla. I spent two weeks touring the South Island of New Zealand in that car, playing pub gigs and hauling our gear from town to town, setting up the P.A. and playing. Every night was planned, and we had a roof over our heads everywhere we stayed, but that car was our world for the duration. It was the vessel that held the tour together. I remember one particular night when we pulled up to a bunk room at a local pub. It was so tight you literally had to step outside just to change your mind. It was basic, it was cramped, and it was entirely functional.
That tour taught me a valuable lesson that has stayed with me through my 30 years in Australia, humans do not need a mansion to find peace. They just need a space that works.
The Mud Map: Designing the batch for Purpose and Grit
I am holding the mud map for the batch in my hands now, the paper already feeling the grit of the outback. I am bringing that exact Corolla philosophy to the first official build on this property. The Batch is not a sprawling guesthouse for the silver spoons down the road in Guinnessvale who spend their afternoons lounging by the town pool. It is a beachhead. It is a compact 3.4 metre by 3.0 metre external footprint designed for the people who actually do the heavy lifting.
In this part of the world, every extra square metre of space is just another area the sun is going to try and cook. By keeping the layout lean, I am making the building easier to insulate and far more resilient to the climate. The batch mud map shows a layout divided into three critical zones. The Bunk Zone features two sets of bunks pushed hard into the corners, providing four beds total. The Aisle is a narrow 500 millimetre gap down the centre, which is exactly the right width to get from the door to your bed without wasting space.
I have positioned The Batch exactly five metres away from the original wooden thunder box. It is situated upwind so the smell does not travel toward the living quarters when the breeze picks up. It is a simple trade necessity that you only appreciate after you have spent enough time living on the land.
The Trade Standard: An Ex Sparky Perspective
Because I have spent a lifetime in the trade, I cannot help but do things by the professional book. Even though I am still waiting for the delivery truck to pull up the track, the infrastructure is already fully mapped out. I have spent decades wiring up other people dreams and putting hot points up customers back passages while working in the Queensland heat. Out here, the stakes are higher because there is no one else to call if your system fails.
I am keeping the electrical and data layout for The Batch, simple but professional. As you can see on the mud map, I have marked out a single double GPO in the mudroom area, which is all you need to charge the essentials without overcomplicating the circuits. I have also marked the positions for the internal lights and the data and telephone connections. Even in the middle of the scrub, connectivity is a lifeline. Whether it is checking the weather or uploading the latest story from the gully, the infrastructure has to be reliable.
The Final Wait: Preparation for the First Hole
Right now, I am just a man with a tool belt, good tunes and a piece of paper. The gear is moving toward Stonehenge Gully, and the anticipation is building. There is a profound satisfaction in the pre construction phase of the batch. It is the time where the vision is still perfect, before the sweat starts and the dust gets into everything.
Once the truck pulls up, the first job will be getting the petrol auger into the ground to sink the piles. I need to break through the surface crust and get deep enough to ensure the building stays exactly where I put it. It is going to be a long build over many weeks, but I am ready for the challenge. I am just a simple man trying to make a go of it. The metallic blue Corolla tour taught me that you do not need much to be happy, but my 30 years in Oz taught me that whatever you have, you should build it to last.
