Right next to the public toilets is a roundabout, and right in the middle of the roundabout is what can only be described as a 'monument', dedicated to more ill-fated troopers who went after some other bushranger. The monument is in fact a Grecian column. With what looks like flowers, and curtains, and scrolls on the side. And what appears to be a tea pot on the top. ('That's an urn, Timothy', said Mum when I ventured the tea pot theory out loud.) Such works of public art raise profound questions (quite aside from 'what the hell does it mean?'): is this supposed to be realism? I was conjuring up visions of a period of history when ancient Greeks would draw back curtains before the wondering eyes of their fellow citizens to unveil tea pots, balanced precariously atop a Grecian column.
Well, Mum and I walked around the monument in a bemused fashion a couple of times, and then went back to the car. "The least they could do is have a monument in European style, with an important little man on a horse flourishing a sword or something in the air," I said.
And that is the last thing that I have to say for the moment about the pleasant little town of Mansfield, Victoria.