Bowenwood

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A few weeks before we left, wanting to surround ourselves with the austral culture, we went to the public library to get panoply of Australian works. Books about Aboriginal culture, instrumental album of the sounds of didgeridoo, children’s tales featuring an awkward possum and of course, the classic Crocodile Dundee, just to name a few. All of them relevant. However, the movie, “Australia”, starring Wolverine and the ever lovely Nicole Kidman (rrrrwoinw!) stuck out on top for its stunning images and mesmerizing story (and for its complete absence of reference to Vegemite).

Imagine our astonishment when, on our way up North, we encountered the village of Bowen, main shooting location of the feature film “Australia”, eighteen months ago. According to the many leaflets from the Bowen Tourist Information Center (home of the Giant Mango), what was before a quaint small village became over night, an Australian movie metropolis for six weeks during winter of 2008, after the arrival of mega American movie stars. So much so that the municipal council decided to print “BOWENWOOD” in giant letters on the village water reservoir, to ensure Bowen with the title of Movie Mecca and to convince other mega productions to come and shoot in the glorious city where everything is possible.

Eighteen months later, Stephanie and I walk through the streets under pouring rain, looking in vain for a youth hostel to accommodate us. One would believe who’s preventing us from finding a dry bed for the night are all these Hollywood stars occupying every single room in town, but unfortunately it’s not the case. Rather, a series of planks barricading windows and “Closed” signs are the culprits for our prolonged stay in the rain.

You see, Bowen didn’t get the return on investment it expected form the “Australia” adventure. Of course, each star took every possible promo picture, made the Front page of local papers when they choose to patron a restaurant instead of another, posing with the owner, holding a steak in hand, but once the cameras stopped rolling, everything left in Bowen was a series of billboards at the marina and lots of red sand Hollywood forgot to pick up afterwards, still littering the place almost two years later.

Having finally found a hostel to accommodate us (which seems to have opened its doors only for us that night), we slept in a room smelling of humidity. On a small 15-inch TV, we are watching Gran Torino (Clint Eastwood in great shape even though he is 79 years-old) and Strictly Ballroom because, after all, we have to promote Australian cinema. During 4 hours, we are transported somewhere else. Movies have the ability to bring the spectator to a completely different reality. It’s easy to see how Bowen’s residents could be fooled to believe their story too could have a happy ending. But it only happens in Bowenwood. I mean, Hollywood…

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