Jobless and bored, about the first thing I did was go to the Cairns annual library sale in a cavern of a building in the showgrounds. What was on offer wasn’t rubbish; solid texts and worthy tomes and bright kids' books and stars like Rankin and Patterson and Reichs who travel at the front of the jet and sell a forest of paper per year.
Kids, and hippies, oldies with glasses and just stock standard ordinary people were there to hunt. There was a little artistic cabal; a woman in a pillbox hat and a hot woollen skirt their leader, and out of place and silly if she wasn’t so pretty. But everyone had a comfortable grace.