Victorian bushranger Ned Kelly is known for his handsome beard, wacky armour, and penchant for ruthlessly slaughtering innocent people. He is not, however, known for taking relaxing holidays in sunny Queensland. So how did this seven-metre-tall tribute end up in Maryborough? Your fearless reporter, Bigs Bardot, headed to the scene to find out!
My quest for the truth started by asking Ned himself, but the oversized outlaw wouldn’t snitch. He’s the strong, silent type, you see. The investigation continued inside the adjoining service station which does not, tragically, sell Big Ned memorabilia. The receptionist could only theorise that Ned might’ve been the original owner of the station. Nice guess, but unlikely.
A wild-eyed resident of the nearby Ned Kelly Motel stumbled over to breathlessly inform me that the Big Ned Kelly watches him in his sleep, at which point I decided to take my inquisition literally anywhere else. Even the lovely ladies at the Visitor Information Centre didn’t know why Ned was built – although they did admit to finding him cute. Oh, Ned, if you’re not stealing horses you’re stealing hearts!
Buckets of fun!
My research yielded little useful information. I did, however, get to spend the afternoon with a particularly impressive Big and foster some lifelong friendships with the locals. Unlike the slightly smaller Big Ned Kelly in Glenrowan – you know, the place where the real Ned was caught – it will probably never be known how and why this gentleman of the road came to be.
During an early meeting with Ned, I was outraged to discover a wasp next nestled in his crotch. Thankfully the little pricks have been removed, and this buckethead is safe to insect!
Maryborough really should be home to the Big Mary Poppins, because it’s the birthplace of the magical nanny’s creator, author P. L. Travers. Maybe they could pop a bonnet on Ned’s head, give him an umbrella, and call him Mary. How supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
Have you heifer herd the udder-ly moo-diculous story about the two-story cow who become a Sunshine Coast icon, fell into a life of depravity, climbed out of the gutter to become a leader of the lost, and eventually retired to a leafy farm near beautiful Toowoomba? Yeah, I know it sounds like a load of bull, but be-hoove yourself because it’s true!
The Big Cow was calved in 1976 in the rural village of Kulangoor, just down the road from the incredible Big Pineapple. She was the feature attraction of a working dairy farm, where visitors were able to yank a bemused animal’s boobies when not climbing inside the belly of this Big. What a delightful teat!
Seven times taller than the Ayrshire cows she’s modelled on, the beefy beauty was created by Huge Anderson…. sorry, make that Hugh Anderson. He enjoyed the task so much that he went on to craft the Big Bulls in Rockhampton, so certainly didn’t go into it calf-hearted.
Put Out To Pasture
Sadly the farm was abandoned and this bo-vine-looking Big fell into disrepair, much like the Prawn and Ploddy the Dinosaur. The farm was used for a number of purposes, most notably as a halfway house for recovering drug addicts. When I visited in 2017, an aggressive man with a spider tattooed on his forehead offered me a package of illegal drugs. “Sorry,” I told him as I handed over my wallet and shoes, “my only addiction is oversized roadside attractions.”
Whilst distressed to lose my Video Ezy membership card and collection of Tazos, I had no beef with the lunatic, and was pleased that the withdrawal symptoms from a nasty case of methamphetamine addiction would be somewhat mitigated by the opportunity to admire a giant cow every morning.
Our friend was soon cow-moo-flaged behind thick bushes, and forgotten in favour of Queensland’s ma-newer Big Things. She was clearly pasture prime and it seemed like this steak was cooked. Thankfully the Big Cow was donated to the happy chappies at Highfields Pioneer Village in 2019, and a few months later was sliced in half (ouch!) and trucked to her new home on the outskirts of beautiful Toowoomba.
“She had a bit of render fall off, probably from all that salt air on the coast, and some weather has gotten in from those holes,” village secretary Jody Dodds told a gobsmacked journo from the ABC. “She hasn’t had much TLC for a while. We think it will cost around $29,000 to have her back in perfect condition.”
Cow-abunga, dude!
A Manure Hope
On September 20, 2020, the redemption of the legendary Big Cow was complete, when she was unveiled to her hordes of rabid fans in a very moo-ving ceremony. The new owners even re-opened the moo-seum inside the Cow after decades of closure. She’s now calm and relaxed in her tranquil retirement home, and it’s no cow-incidence that attendance at the village has never been higher.
Alright, I’ve milked this story long enough, but I have a question; since when did cows have horns?
A quick note; whilst I’ve included a cheeky udder pun in this story, udder infections in dairy cows are a serious problem. They’re painful and potentially fatal if left untreated. I enjoy a giggle as much as anyone, but cows suffering due to unhygienic conditions and lack of adequate medical attention is no laughing matter.
Queenslanders love guzzling icy cold XXXX beer almost as much as they adore their Big Things, so Koumala is like honey to the bee for those up north! The colossal can stands like a beacon outside the well-presented Koumala Hotel, luring in travellers from the Bruce Highway for a cool drink and a bite to eat from the expansive bistro menu.
The titanic tinnie is actually a water tank, and when I visited he was peeking out from behind a thorny thicket. Hopefully his owners cut back the foliage soon, or we’ll beer-ly be able to see him!
Worshipping a three-metre-high can is thirsty work, so I popped into the pub for a refreshing beverage. There’s a large crocodile above the front door and the interior is quirky, with a charming retro aesthetic.
I’m not a beer drinker, and not a huge fan of Bundaberg Rum, so I ordered my paramour – an appletini with a delicate twist of fuchsia grapefruit – from the gruff bartender. After barely escaping a severe beating, I dashed off to nearby Sarina to collapse safely in the bosom of my good friend, Buffy the Big Cane Toad.
I hope I can see my big, yellow alcoholic friend again one day!
From Beer To Eternity
Fancy binge-drinking on Big Cans? Then head over to the desert outside Las Vegas, home to Claim Your Destiny. Also built from an old water tank, this aluminium artwork is even larger than Koumala’s colossus. Just don’t tell the Queenslanders I said something nice about American beer – they’ll ban me from ever coming back!
For a bloomin’ great time in the Garden City of Toowoomba, visit Picnic Point to see the Big Sunflowers. The popular petal-heads have plenty of pollen power, with piles of plant-o-philes posy-ing for a picture.
The bud-dies sprouted in 2012 as a tribute to the people of the city, the local schools, the Lions Club, and Toowoomba legend Ian Orford. I’m sure there were half-a-dozen other worthy causes the designers wanted to thank, but there wasn’t enough room on the sign.
Whilst my heart will forever belong to the mystical, captivating, and sweetly-scented Miss Bateman clematis (the subdued pastel hues make my soul mourn for a simpler time), my appreciation for sunflowers really blossomed after meeting these lovely ladies. I had a similar reaction to the Big Poppies when they arrived in Gosford shortly afterwards.
Despite content with having each other for company, these delightful daisies were very excited when the Big Cow moved into the neighbourhood in 2020. In fact, you could say they were over the moo-n!
Garden me for repeating myself, but these girls really are sun-thing special!
The Southern Highlands of New South Wales has Big Things apple-nty, but none are as scrumptious as this crimson cutie! The Big Apple is of epic proportions, astonishingly detailed – just look at his hyper-realistic leaf – and always in season!
Tallong legend Jim ‘The Apple Man’ Watling set the peels in motion in 1988. He commissioned a chap named Carl Zeschke to build a fitting tribute to the area’s vivacious agricultural industry. The Apple sat contentedly atop Jim’s shed for three decades, luring in customers to buy fresh fruit.
Not surprisingly, he became the apple of Jim’s eye!
It’s Tallong way to the top if you wanna Big Apple!
The healthy heartthrob was removed in 2017, presumably because it was impossible to get any work done with him around. Fortunately, he was soon popped on a pedestal in the sprawling Tallong Memorial Park. He was even provided with a canopy to keep him nice and dry. The grand unveiling was a Royal Gala event, with throngs of locals and several Pink Ladies in attendance.
He now takes pride of place plum in the middle of the rustic village, inspiring a new generation of Big Thing fanatics. There’s even a delightful playground for the kiddies to explore as Mum and Dad gaze in open-mouthed wonder at the Apple. What a perfect way to apple fritter away a an afternoon!
Things are not as peachy as they seem, however. The good people of Tallong are in a brutal dis-fruit with the residents of Yerrinbool, home to a rival Big Apple. Reminiscent of similar unrest between fans of the pear of Big Pineapples, the feud stems from the fact each community believes their Big is the one true Big Apple, and neither looks like they’ll crumble. Honestly, guys, make juice, not war! Hopefully continuing discussions between village elders will prove fruitful.
Put the Mortein away, he’s friendly! Ossie the Mossie watches vigilantly over the much-loved Hexham Bowling Club, and after giving him a good insect-ion I’m pleased to report that he certainly doesn’t suck!
Hexham Grey mosquitos have long been the bowlo’s symbol, so in 1994 members cobbled together $17,200 to build a personable pest of epic proportions. Basing his design on an oversized chicken displayed at a nearby car dealership, he was introduced by Lord Mayor John McNaughton to unprecedented scenes of jubilation. Of course some of the local bar-flys found Ossie to be quite buzz-arre, but ultimately warmed to him.
Like me, this super-detailed Big Thing is a real social butterfly! His legion of admirers certainly enjoyed honking their horns as they drove past during our photo shoot. We were like two peas in a pod but, whilst I’m a natural beauty, Ossie has had some work done to retain his youthful complexion.
Handsome from his head to his mosqui-toes
“Ossie had some plastic surgery in 2004 and 2008 because of damage from the elements and other insects,” former Secretary Manager Jon Chin told an enraptured reporter from The Hunter Headline.
“He had another ‘nip and tuck’ in 2010 when the Roads and Maritime Service ordered Ossie be moved back four metres to assist with the widening of the Pacific Highway. That time he received some animation including glowing green eyes, a new red belly, and a neon nose.”
After gawping in open-jawed wonder at Ossie and taking a few (hundred!) photos with him, make sure you pop into the club. Not only are the staff delightful, but the Riverside Bistro offers a banquet menu that’s to die for. Don’t pass away, however, because the Big Kookaburra and the Big Ugg Boots are tantalisingly close and well worth visiting. Or perhaps you feel drawn towards the Big Pencil?
Alright, alright, I’ll stop bugging you now – bye!
A quick note: Unfortunately this post has received a number of disturbing comments referencing (forgive my language here) Ossie’s ‘big prick’, or variations thereof. Seriously guys, act your age and not your shoe size. Such ‘humour’ will not be glamorised on this website.
Itsy Bitsy the Big Spider Climbed up the water tower Down came the rain And made the spider cower Out came the sun And dried up all the rain And Itsy Bitsy the Big Spider Climbed up the tower again!
You’d hate to be a fly in the cosy village of Urana, because it’s home to a spider the size of a small car! But don’t be scared, because this aspiring web designer is a charming chap who you absolutely arach-need to meet. In fact, he’s so popular they might have to rename the town Tarant-Urana!
Despite being a fair way up the tower, Itsy Bitsy is a lot of fun to take photos with and easy to find, living at the end of the main street, next to a small lake with community BBQs. He certainly didn’t mind putting on a tough guy act as I shrieked in terror!
Itsy Bitsy was created by local artist Andrew Whitehead and revealed in May 2009, taking up residence on the town’s imposing water tower. Made from scrap metal and piping – similar to Murray the Cod – he has eight lovely eyes (doesn’t that make him a spiiiiiiiider?) and loves spinning a yarn. Fittingly, he’s around eight feet tall.
Brave Andy installed this Big Thing all by himself, which certainly impressed a flabbergasted reporter from the Border Mail. “Mr Whitehead, who is afraid of heights, installed the artwork himself, climbing a 16m ladder then walking around the 30cm rim of the tower carrying an 8kg bracket and 8m of cable,” the breathless report read.
“Once the bracket and cable were in place a cherry picker raised the spider into position and it was secured with the three cables.”
Easy Spider
Thankfully, Andy didn’t build a Daddy Long Legs because Urana’s overrun by bugs; he was in-spidered by the town’s legendary former Aussie Rules team, who were known as the Spiders and surely must’ve played at Webley Stadium.
Today this not-so-creepy crawly is the coolest dude in town and it’s customary for him to appear in wedding photos – newlywebs think he’s the greatest. I’d love to hear more from Itsy Bitsy, so hopefully he’ll launch an arthro-podcast soon!
Roll out the red carpet, because we’re in the company of some Hollywood bad boys… Ribbet Redford and Dennis Hopper! The amphibian actors squat smugly out the front of the salubrious Ramada Suites, just a hop, skip and jump from Darwin’s waterfront.
Ribbet and Dennis spawned at the humorously-named Get Stoned Masonry, before re-croak-ating to their current spot when the shop shut. Their identical sisters – the brightly-coloured Sandra Bullfrog and Lillypad Allen – live down the toad at the Territory Wildlife Park in Berry Springs.
Their current site is an unassuming, but very accessible, home for two superstars. They’re surrounded by shrubs in a quiet street and Dennis, who’s looking worse for wear, has succulent flowers growing out of him. But don’t worry, I didn’t see any Easy Spiders crawling out!
Despite looking similar, the pair actually have very unique personalities. Ribbet – star of classics such as The Green Gatsby, Charlotte’s Webbed Feet and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Amphibian – is cool, carefree, and a bit of a showboat. Dennis, by comparison, is more intense and eccentric – as seen in his classics Blue Vel-wet and A-frog-alypse Now.
Both are worthy of a star on the Big Thing Walk of Fame, but are comfortable sharing the slime-light with their hunky cousin, Buffy the Big Cane Toad. They also enjoy staying up all night with their nocturnal neighbour, Chinute Chinute the Big Owl.
A quick ap-pond-ix; As I was photographing the frogs, Mr Redford made an Indecent Proposal – for me to climb atop him for a hoppy snap! I would’ve loved to spend more time with the long-tongued tough guys, but unfortunately I had other Kermit-ments.
Young is a prosperous inland city with a rich agricultural history, and having their very own Big is the cherry on top! This trio of tasty treats were unveiled in 1983 to rapturous applause, cementing Young’s reputation as the cherry capital of the world. If you’re cherry-picking your favourite Bigs, take a fruitful journey out to see them!
The red rascals hang daintily next to Young’s historic train station, which offers a small range of tea towels, postcards and magnets with the Cherries on them. Step off the platform and, before your cherry eyes, there they are – three wonderful, glorious cherries peering whimsically over the main street.
Whilst the monument gives our Bigs the reverence they deserve, I must be ‘that guy’ and take umbrage with the height of it. The Cherries are simply too elevated for a great happy snap, and it’s difficult to attain a true appreciation of their size. However, I’m willing to cherry the hatchet if the local council are willing to make them slightly easier to pick (and pan)!
If you want a wilder, more elusive cherry – and one who wears sunglasses almost as cool as mine! – why not join my quest to meet Victoria’s supercooool Big Cherry? He’s gone into hiding, as any great rockstar has, but with a little encouragement we can bring him back into the public eye.
In any case, don’t cherry your head in the sand, roll out to Young to eat, drink and be cherry. Thank you cherry much!
Sunglasses, cheeky grin, rockstar swagger. No, I’m not talking about myself, I’m describing the coolest cat in the Goulburn Valley, the legendary Big Cherry! The bright-red dude with ’tude has been breaking hearts for the past two decades, so I decided the time to meet this cherry was ripe!
As I researched the Cherry in my la-big-atory, I discovered that rumours of his current whereabouts abounded. Some said he’d moved to Byron Bay to become an influencer, others that he’d fled to South America to live with a giant tamarillo. I tracked him down to the Big Cherry Farm in splendid Wyuna, where he’s always been. Rumours of his travels have, apparently, been greatly exaggerated.
Tragically, upon arrival I discovered that the farm has been closed for several years due to water shortages, with the sunnies-sporting-sweetheart locked 100 metres down a driveway, behind a gate. I called out to whoever might be inhabiting the farm to let me in, but there was no response. Upon dialling the number on the sign out the front, I discovered it was disconnected. I yodelled towards the Big Cherry himself, in the desperate hope that he might roll towards me to say hello, but it wasn’t to be. He just sat there, back turned, smiling into the twilight.
Left cold and alone in rural Victoria, I took a forlorn photo with the sign out the front of the farm. To put it in perspective, it was like missing out on an Eagle-Eye Cherry concert due to a drunken stepfather and consoling yourself by listening to his acclaimed 1997 single Save Tonight on a Sony Discman.
A Cherry Nice Fellow Indeed
I was shattered that I was unable to meet the cherry, and disgusted with myself for letting you, his fans and admirers, down. My sincerest apologies, although I hope my encounter with the Big Fruit Bowl goes some way towards for it – I think there’s a cherry or two in there.
With tears in my eyes I raced across the border to spend time with the more wholesome cherries in Young as a consolation prize, but it just wasn’t the same. They don’t have the glasses, the style, or the devil-may-care demeanour that harkens back to a young Val Kilmer. Young’s Big Cherries might steal your heart, but they would never steal your girlfriend.
I won’t, however, give up on my dream to meet the Big Cherry – just look at those Reebok Pumps, he’s a regular Cherry-quille O’Neal! If you own the farm, know the owners, or have any other info or tips to help me in my quest to spend an afternoon with a really big piece of fruit, please contact me immediately. I’ll jump on my scooter and ride all night to have a lunch date with this spherical spunk if I have to. Trust me, if I get to meet Captain Cool, I’ll be cherry appreciative!
What’s chookin’, good lookin’? This king-sized cockerel really is something to crow about, and you’ll have egg on your face if you don’t chick him out!
A Western Sydney icon for decades, the Chook is an extremely charismatic old-school Big. He looks a bit homemade, like the Big Golden Dog and fellow feather-head the Big Parrot, but that just makes him more relatable.
He stands proudly outside a wildly popular egg farm named after him, and locals find it almost impossible to drive past without popping in. It’s not just for a photo op with the Chook, because along with an enviable selection of chutneys and jams, the on-site store sells two-and-a half doz-hen eggs for just $4 – and you don’t need a coop-on for that!
Whilst it’s not possible to cuddle the ravishing rooster because he’s behind a chicken-wire fence, he’s in a great position for a happy snap. Just look at the two of us strutting around together, we really are poultry in motion!
He’s really plucking big!
Local legend Chris Sammut spent two glorious weeks building this peck-tacular specimen, at a cost of $1500. He based the Chook on a styrofoam model of a rooster, then moulded him out of chicken wire and duck tape. He then sprayed the whole thing with fibreglass and added the details with all-feather paint.
The Big Chook was completed in 1986 or 1987, apparently without council approval. Chris kept him as a temporary attraction for a few weeks in case a busybody turned up to complain, before concreting him to the ground. I guess that cemented the Big Chook’s place in the community!
Don’t chicken out, take a beak at the Big Chook today – and hurry up because the cluck is ticking!
Please note, I understand that there are some obvious and tired jokes that can be made comparing this delightfully large chicken to a part of the male anatomy. You probably think you’re being both original and hilarious. Trust me, you couldn’t be further from the truth. The Big Chook is a gentle, kind being who should be admired and revered, not become the butt of crass jokes. Neither he nor I appreciate the fowl language!
If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, the good people of the Southern Highlands mustn’t have seen a quack in years! The un-Bool-ievable snack is conveniently located just off the Hume Highway and is as fresh as the day it fell off the tree.
Despite being de-cider-edly larger than anything you’ll find at a green grocer, you’ll be disappointed if expecting something on the scale of the Big Melon, Big Banana or Big Pineapple. It’s still very apple-ing, though!
The beachball-sized Red Delicious poses pompously atop a quaint sign for the historic Tennessee Orchard, which until recently offered a mouthwatering array of fruit, veggies, marmalades, jams, chutneys and eggs. Tragically the farm is currently closed, after being core-t in a freak hail storm a few years ago.
This Big Apple is just one of nearly a dozen variations spread around Australia – in fact, there’s another less than an hour down the road at Tallong, and the two fanbases have developed a heated rivalry. You’ll have to visit them all to see which one’s the pick of the bunch!
Roll up, roll up, because I want to introduce you to the largest, most-in-charge-est rolling pin you’ll ever see. She’s 14-metres-long, weighs more than two tonnes, and looms large over the famous Henri’s Wodonga Bakery. You definitely knead to see the World’s Biggest Rolling Pin!
The larger-than-loaf pin was installed in 1992, in what has been described as Wodonga’s finest flour. The good people at Guinness World Records rushed to pop this Victorian icon atop hotly-contested Biggest Rolling Pin category. Apparently it can roll, but was completely stationary when I turned up to admire it, but I guess you can’t spin ’em all.
Although it lacks the wow-factor of other giant utensils such as Grenfell’s Big Gold Pick and Pan or Kew’s Big Axe – and isn’t as huggable as the nearby Digby the Dinosaur – it’s the sort of Big that really gets under your scone after a while and proves to be a to-pie-for experience.
The sprawling bakery beneath the cylindrical superstar offers a mouthwatering array of sausage rolls, cakes, burgers, juices and sourdough bread. The perky pinheads percolating within are particularly pleasant, al-dough I do have one complaint – no Rolling Pin souvenirs! I would’ve loved a miniature version of the World’s Largest Rolling Pin. Alas, I will never be able to find such a thing.
All-in-all, it’s worth baking the effort to visit the World’s Biggest Rolling Pin!
Our next Bigs are spineless, brainless, and most unwelcome at pool parties – and that’s just how they like it. Please put your tentacles together for Jerry and Janine, the Giant Jellyfish!
The bloodthirsty blubbers can be found floating menacingly along the waterfront at the entrance to Darwin’s sprawling East Point Reserve. Despite appearances, they’re actually very approachable and fun to play around with. They’re quite elegant, and join Colin, the Big Barramundi and Chinute Chinute as the most fashionable Bigs in the Territory.
The Giant Jellyfish are almost inde-sting-uishable from the real thing. Together with similar dugong statues nearby, they (East) Point to a bright future for this region!
The deadly duo form an art installation entitled Intertwined, which was brought to life by local artiste Aly de Groot in 2014. World famous for her exquisite woven masterpieces, this was Aly’s first Big, so she worked with sculptor Phillip Piperides and indigenous elder Bilawarra Lee on the $150,000 project.
Some spoilsports have complained about the cost, but honestly guys! That works out at $75,000 per Big, which is great value in any language. I assume they are simply jelly of Jerry and Janine’s popularity.
“It’s my gift to Darwin,” Aly told renowned tome the NT News. “I’ve been in Darwin for 20 years, and only recently I first saw jellyfish. I consider them as an icon for the Northern Territory but they’re more hidden than the dragonfly or the crocodile. I think they symbolise a hidden beauty and, yes, they’re dangerous and cause a lot of pain, but life can be like that.”
Yes, Aly, life certainly can be painful! I wouldn’t wish the agony of being separated from these gelatinous giants on anyone!
Our next Big weighs in at seven tonnes and hails from Humpty Doo, Northern Territory. He is the saltwater slugger, the concrete treat and the leather-weight champion of the woooooooooorld… ladies and gentlemen, put your claws together for the Big Boxing Crocodile! Or Bite Tyson, as I like to call him!
Our punchy pal was made possible by enigmatic businessman Marshall Brentnall. He was hoping to draw attention to his Humpty Doo Bush Shop. Inspired by the boxing kangaroo logo used in Australia’s successful 1983 America’s Cup campaign, he contacted Sydney artiste Ray Park to complete the six-metre-tall colossus. After 14 weeks of construction and two weeks of painting at the Sydney Prop Centre, he made his debut in 1988. Not surprisingly, he was an instant hit with the locals!
And just how much does a legendary Aussie boxer Kostya? Oh, around $120,000 – bargain!
Whilst he looks like a cold-blooded killer, the croc is actually a big baby with a kind heart. The quality of his design and construction is extraordinary and he ticks all the boxes to be a Big Thing Hall of Famer, ranking alongside fellow lizard Ploddy, the Big Pineapple and the Big Prawn. He’s huge, regionally-appropriate, easy to take photos with and zany enough to stand out from the crowd.
He got knocked down, but he got up again
Like many of his massive mates, Bite Tyson’s had some Rocky years, and spent time in a state of disrepair. Fortunately the adjacent petrol station has given him a lick of paint and cut back the unruly bushes at his feet, so he’s not ready to throw the towel in yet!
He rounds out an assortment of NT lizards including the Giant Jumping Croc, George, and the Croc Hotel down the road at Jab-iru. There’s no denying that this absolutely glove-ly pugilist is a real knockout – and that’s a unanimous decision.
Oh, and I was going to finish off with another amusing quip, but I can’t remember the punchline!
Please note that, whilst I appear to be making aggressive gestures towards this gentle giant in some photos, it was all in good fun and with the permission of the Big Boxing Crocodile. He has a wonderful sense of humour! Do not mock/threaten any Big – they’re placid, sensitive creatures and here to be admired. Aggression towards them will not be tolerated!
I’m a lumberjack and I’m OK I sleep all night and visit Bigs all day!
Axe yourself this – how much excitement can you handle? If the answer is ‘plenty’, then swing by this towering tool and get ready to chop till you drop!
A fixture of the exquisite Camden Haven district since 1979, the wonderful whacker celebrates the local timber industry and rests happily beside the iKew Visitor Information Centre. He was replaced in 2002 after famished termites did a real hatchet job on him, but when I stopped by in 2015 he was in a poor state once again. Trust me, I had an axe to grind with those responsible!
Sadly, the centre also suffered from a severe lack of Big Axe memorabilia. I carefully explained to the kind woman behind the counter that it was a missed opportunity, and that I would return in several years to reassess the situation.
I’m thrilled to say the Axe’s splinter of discontent is over! The Big Axe was completely rebuilt by cleaver members of the Kendall Men’s Shed, and the natives were Kew-ing up when it was unveiled in 2017. The 800kg tomahawk now rests on supports that are two metres shorter than the old ones, making happy snaps a little easier.
A magnetic attraction
Best of all, Brazilian Big Thing guru Bebezinga Grande and I were elated to discover the Visitor Centre now offers not one but two Big Axe magnets. The gentlemen in attendance thanked me for my dedication to the cause, and those magnets have now become a sought-after home decorating accessory in South America.
The chop-ularity of the Big Axe has even led to a replica in Western Sydney. Alright, they’re not axe-actly the same, but they’re close enough.
Whilst the Pacific Highway bypassed Kew years ago, this Big can be reached with a short detour on your way north towards the Big Golden Dog or south to the Big Oyster. The volunteers at the Visitor Centre are always up for a chat, so make sure you don’t axe-dentally pass it by!
Football, meat pies, kangaroos and the Big Banana. This prodigious plantain has grown to become a huge part of Australia’s national identity. He represents this great country’s culture and history, hopes and dreams. Every child holds fond memories of popping into the Banana on a road trip up north, having their photo snapped in front of the Coffs Harbour icon, and then smashing into a delicious chocolate-covered frozen banana at the adjoining cafe.
This is Australia, distilled to her essence and molded into one 13-metre-long potassium-powered Big Thing.
The Big Banana sits proudly above the Pacific Highway and is unmissable as you drive past. He’s massive, bright, and exquisitely crafted. The friendly fruit is also perfectly positioned for a photo (as the long lines prove!) and is large enough to walk through. The small yet absolutely fascinating agricultural exhibit inside is unmissable.
If you feel like monkeying around, the Banana-themed fun park really Caven-dishes up the thrills! Peel off your clothes at the water park, spend an elongated afternoon at the putt-putt golf, or take on the terrifying toboggan ride, which is suitable for both men and lady-fingers.
For those who flat out refuse to eat anything that’s not yellow, there’s a mouthwatering cheesemaking workshop. If you’ve got a sweet tooth, head to the cafe for a banana split (fortunately they’re available seven days a week, not just on sundaes). Unfortunately I’m no longer able to enjoy this delicious treat due to an unfortunate incident during my childhood – but don’t let that stop you from tucking in!
Australia goes bananas!
Banana salesman John Landi dreamed up the yellow fellow in 1964, to get tourists to stop by his fruit stand. After hiring – and subsequently firing – a local youth to dress as a gorilla and dance for traffic, he heard word of a pineapple of epic proportions that was doing a roaring trade in Hawaii. The time was ripe to jump on the Big Thing bandwagon, so he tapped engineer Alan Chapman and builder Alan Harvey to make it happen. It had to B1 of the best decisions ever!
Construction ran smoothly and the Big Banana opened a year after Australia’s first giant roadside attraction, North Gosford’s Ploddy the Dinosaur, snarled his way into our hearts in 1963. That hasn’t prevented the Banana’s owners from falsely promoting him as the original Big Thing – but that’s a bunch of lies!
Success was immediate, with Bananarama taking over Australia, and the plantation was greatly expanded to cover most of the surrounding hillside area. Giant produce, such as the original Big Pineapple and the Bilpin Fruit Bowl, popped up around the country in tribute. The profile of the ‘King of the Bigs’ exploded, culminating in a massive period of growth in the late-80s, when a whole bunch of exciting attractions were brought in from the recent Expo ’88 in Brisbane. There was even a train ride with a terrifying bunyip, which I particularly enjoyed as a young chap!
The Banana goes rotten!
The Big Banana was hailed as Australia’s Big Yellow Smile and became more famous than the Great Barrier Reef and the Sydney Opera House combined. But things were about to get rotten for vitamin-fuelled lothario. A few bad business decisions and a general perception that Big Things weren’t cool anymore (they always were and always will be, of course) led to the massive decline of the park.
A number of the attractions were sold off – including the poor bunyip – and the Banana was left to wilt in the hot North Coast sun. Like the Big Pineapple and the Big Prawn, it seemed like this decaying delicacy had passed its best-before date.
Proving miracles do happen, some more investment came in, the park was expanded again, and the Big Banana was given a new lease on life. The Banana has returned to its rightful place as one of the world’s greatest tourist attractions, on par with Disneyland and Machu Picchu, and no Australian child shall ever go without a visit to this humongous health food. Raise your chocolate-coated frozen bananas high in the air, as we toast the beating heart of Australian society.
Long before the age of Bananas, Penguins, Pineapples and Prawns, an enormous concrete dinosaur watched over Australia’s highways. Ploddy, the oldest of her kind and the grandmother of the Bigs, was unlike anything anyone had ever seen before.
With her timeless beauty and vivacious personality she ushered in the era of massive roadside attractions, becoming a national celebrity in the process. However, like the ancient thunder lizards she was modelled after, extinction is on the horizon for this gentle giant.
Despite her proud history, this folk hero has been abandoned in the bush, locked away behind a gnarled barbed-wire fence and left to rot. It’s a tragic and shameful situation for the mellow yellow lady, who’s terribly lonely out there in the wilderness.
This, dear readers, is the tragic tale of Ploddy the Dinosaur.
Do-you-think-she-saurus?
Ploddy’s epic story begins in the halcyon days of 1963, when hair was long and short-shorts were super short. Eric Worrell, owner of the popular Australian Reptile Park in Wyoming, New South Wales, was looking for a way to draw in more visitors from the Pacific Highway – and the common worm-skinks just weren’t doing the job. That’s when he had a BIG IDEA.
What if he built a life-size dinosaur and plonked it out by the main road? The plan was as preposterous as it was brilliant. Although Grrrreta the Grrrreat Big Dinosaur was wowing the crowds over in America, nothing of the sort had ever been attempted in this country. Undeterred, Eric and his chums got to work, largely making it up as they went.
The project took just two months for Eric’s talented team, including designer Ken Mayfield and construction engineer Jim Sullivan, to complete. Not bad for a diplodo-custom made dinosaur!
At 26-metres-long and weighing 100 tonnes, Ploddy was unlike anything the good people of the Central Coast seen before. She ushered in a new era of prosperity to the park, drawing in tens of thousands of curious onlookers who just wanted to say ‘allo-saurus to the Central Coast’s largest resident.
Ploddy was the first Big Thing Aussie’s ever dino-saw. So why is she so close to being wiped off the face of the planet?
Plodding into our hearts
The inimitable Bigs Bardot moved into the adjacent caravan park with his family in the mid-80s, and it was love at first sight – even though I was a little intimidated by Ploddy at first. Whenever things became too brutal in the trailer, I’d sneak over to see my massive mate. As I nestled into her serpentine neck, everything seemed right in the world.
In those days she was easily accessible and it was even possible to climb on top of or inside her, and she was always willing to listen to my problems. Ploddy told me there was a vast world out there, full of giant icons just like her. I promised her that I would visit every single one of her friends, and I take that vow seriously.
Ploddy was something of a chameleon, changing colours often, and as a rebellious youth I would dye my hair to match. We were inseparable, so I was understandably heartbroken when she took me aside one windswept day in 1994 to let me know she was moving away forever.
After 33 years in Wyoming, the Reptile Park’s new owners, John and Robyn Weigel, were taking the cold-blooded cutie and the rest of the reptiles to a new location at Somersby. It took two years to fossil-itate, and I spent as much time with Ploddy as I could, but things weren’t the same. A sadness hung over our rendezvous, and I even flirted with other Bigs such as the Merino, Oyster, and the man who would go on to become the other great love of my life, The Big Avocado.
What can I say? I was just love Jura-sick!
Movin’ on up
When Ploddy finally made her move on a stormy day in 1996, thousands of people lined the streets of Gosford to bid her farewell. I was in tears, not only to lose my best chum, but because they cut Ploddy’s poor feet and tail off to remove her from the concrete platform she guarded for so many years. It took Gosford’s largest crane to place her onto Gosford’s largest truck, and I marched proudly, but with a heavy heart, alongside her through the adoring crowds.
It was the greatest party Gosford had ever seen but, once the celebrations faded away, the tragedy of Ploddy’s situation became apparent. She wasn’t planted at the entrance of the new Reptile Park; that honour was bestowed upon Frilly the Lizard, with Ploddy tossed into a dusty clearing several hundred metres away.
She could watch the cars zip by on the new Pacific Highway, of course, but her friends had no real way of getting up close and personal with her. Ploddy was no longer able to serve her purpose as a Big Thing – she was a glorified billboard, locked away behind a fence and at the mercy of the elements. When the wind blew just right on a clear night, I could hear her weeping all the way from Wyoming.
Perhaps, I thought, she could also hear my cries.
The Lizard of Oz
Ploddy’s the oldest of the Big Things, an important part of Australia’s history and culture, and for her to be treated like this is nothing short of disgraceful. Whilst the Big Banana, Big Boxing Crocodile and even Ploddy’s little brother Big Kev and niece Digby have people lined up to take photos with them, pouring millions of dollars into their local communities, this grand old dame of roadside attractions has been cast aside, with only a few hardy souls visiting her. It’s outrageous and the good folks at the Australian Reptile Park need to do something about it.
Mercifully it’s still possible to see Ploddy, if you’re up for an adventure. The best way is to park by the side of the Old Pacific Highway at Somersby and locate the steep, overgrown path heading north towards the sizeable sauropod.
It’s not for the faint of heart, small children or the elderly, but those who brave the 100-metre climb will be rewarded by a meeting with the graceful Queen of the Bigs. It’s a bit like visiting my stepdad Craig in jail, though, due to the chainlink fence and the sour stench of desperation.
Until then, Ploddy’s true friends will visit her, chat to her, reassure her that everything will be OK. We’ll hold back the tears and pretend to believe our words, then fall apart as we walk away. This site, my life, and the passion that beats through the heart of every Big-thusiast, exist because of the incomparable Ploddy the Big Dinosaur. My first love, my purest love.
Everyone fantasises about spending a luxurious evening inside a Big Thing. The only place you can do that is in the remote Northern Australian village of Jabiru. Deep in the heart of the mystical Kakadu National Park you’ll find the senses-shattering Crocodile Hotel. At 250 metres long and 30 metres wide, he’s earned a reptile-tation as the most massive Big in this sunburnt country.
Being the size of a city block means this green machine is difficult to photograph – unless you have a drone, you’ll have to settle for a happy snap of his eye, shoulder or a part of his tail. Despite being a lovely chap and a perfect gentleman whilst entertaining guests, the Croc also likes to put on a bad boy veneer at night, when his eyes glow a spooky red. But don’t be frightened, like a leather jacket-wearing biker in a 50s movie, he has a heart of gold when you get to know him.
He’s very big Dundee-d
‘The Croc’, as the locals imaginatively named him, opened his ginormous jaws for business in 1988, following the worldwide success of the classic Aussie film Crocodile Dundee. Soon his belly was filled by a constant stream of loud-mouthed Americans in even louder Hawaiian shirts, saying, “that’s not a knife” in cockney accents, many of whom proceeded to wander off into the wilderness and get eaten by real-life crocodiles. With international travel temporarily stilted, I was fortunate enough to be offered a complimentary night at the hotel, thanks to my role as Australia’s Big Thing ambassador.
After a number of delectable crock-tails at the bar, I was treated to a tasting platter of authentic bush tucker, featuring buffalo, kangaroo, possum and, of course, crocodile. A tsunami of shame and guilt washed over me as I nibbled on The Croc’s relatives, but I couldn’t stop – it was just too delicious!
The rooms are spacious and far more comfortable than spending an evening inside a real reptile, which I imagine would be most unpleasant. I suffer from quite serious night terrors, and I can’t begin to explain how comforting it was to be shaken from a particularly horrifying dreamscape to find myself safely ensconced within the belly of a Big. It was like returning to the womb.
In a region with more Big Lizards than you can shake a didgeridoo at – including the Big Boxing Crocodile, Keith the Crocodile, George and the Giant Jumping Crocodile, the Croc Hotel beggars belief with his scales… I mean his scale! He makes the perfect base for a once-in-a-lifetime journey through Kakudu but be warned – at the Hotel Crocodilia, you can check out any time you like, but your heart can never leave!
He was a bad boy with a heart of gold from the wrong side of the Adelaide River. I was a fresh-faced Big Thing enthusiast discovering myself in the wild Australian outback. Together we found love and the forbidden art of the samba. This is Dirty Water Dancing.
They say you should never smile at a crocodile. But I challenge you to look at this happy little face without croc-ing a grin! This groovy dude is one of the most joyous Bigs you’ll ever see, and has been boogying non-stop outside The Original Adelaide River Queen Jumping Crocodile Cruises headquarters since 1984.
He lives by the banks of the murky Adelaide River, which I don’t advise you to take a dip in, unless you’d like to become the lunch of a not-so-friendly real-life croc! Better to join a sensibly-priced jumping crocodile tour and then enjoy some light refreshments at the adjoining cafe. You can also say hello to Wak Wak’s other Big Crocodile as you munch on a scrumptious chocolate brownie.
Yet another oversized lizard, the world famous Big Boxing Crocodile, lives just 20 minutes down the road at Humpty Doo, and the Croc Hotel is only a couple of hours away, making this the undisputed modern-day-dinosaur roadside attraction capital of the world (they should put that on a tea towel). You know you’ll visit sooner or alligator, so head along to the Giant Jumping Croc… and make it snappy!
For many years the rural village of Apple Tree Creek was synonymous with its legendary Big Beer Bottle, but when it was sent to the big recycling bin in the sky, roadside attraction lovers had little reason to slow down as they zipped along the Bruce Highway.
But don’t just fly on by, because eagle-eyed Bigs aficionados will notice that Apple Tree Creek’s now home to the Big Parrot. He appears to be a Norwegian Blue and may or may not be pining for the fjords. The chunky bird’s a bit rough, looking like he was knocked together in someone’s backyard. He does, however, have a silent pride in his eyes, and a peck-uliar grin on his face.
The azure avian has been dumped haphazardly outside the award-winning Flying High Bird Park. It’s home to more than 3000 feathered friends from across the globe. All the birds in there are normal-sized, though, so I didn’t bother going inside.
I highly recommend you take a squawk on the wild side and have a claws encounter with this odd, little-known and underappreciated Big Thing. It really is a wing-wing situation, even though he’s not as snappily-dressed as his beaked buddy the Big Penguin. Or wild and zany as his feathered friend Pete the Pelican. Or as popular with the locals as the legendary Big Chook. Alright, Owl stop!
The only question is, shouldn’t Apple Tree Creek be home to, you know, a Big Apple?
For those who believe the Giant Jumping Crocodile is a little too wacky, there’s a more realistic, down-to-earth, version just a short sinusoidal stagger away. He lives in the courtyard of the Original River Queen Jumping Crocodile Tours cafe and is an unassuming monster who shuns the limelight.
Nobody at the cafe knows who built him or when (I’d guess mid-to-late 80s), or even his name, so I call him Keith. It’s a shame because the design and workmanship are delightful – he looks enough like a real beastie to stop famished families in their tracks, but has enough character and charm to ensure everyone leaves a slice of their heart behind when they say goodbye.
He’s big, too – 10 metres long at least, which makes him the largest, if not the most famous, croc in Wak Wak. They’re both outsized by the legendary Big Boxing Crocodile in Humpty Doo, Darwin’s George the Croc and the massive, awe-inspiring Crocodile Hotel in Jabiru, though. There’s capacious competition for king-sized crocodilians in the Northern Territory (and let’s not forget the Big Crocodile in Somersby, NSW).
As I was snapping my photos, a local wag tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the chain attaching the smiling saltie to the ground. “Bigs,” he told me, cackling into the tropical twilight. “It’s to stop him from running away. “I found it so amusing that I couldn’t wipe the smile off my ‘dile for days!
Alas, my time with Keith came to an end too soon, and we embraced as I told him I was off to see other Big Things. A little insensitive, sure, but I didn’t expect him to bite my head off about it!
There’s only one place where you can snap up a sensibly-priced socket set, swallow a scrumptious sausage sandwich, and sequester yourself back 65 million years to the age of the sauropods – and that’s Bunnings Palmerston. It’s home to Big Kev the brachiosaurus and trust me, he’s excited!
Kev is absolutely massive, to the point it can be difficult to snap a good photo with him without his head disappearing out of the frame. Fortunately, a smiling team member at the adjacent hardware store was only too happy to help out with my shoot, suggesting poses and really bringing Kev’s cheeky personality to the forefront.
A future Helmut Newton, perhaps?
Tall, dark and oh-so-handsome
At 18 metres high, Kev’s one of the tallest Bigs around, towering over the nearby Lefty the Big Pink Buffalo. He’s also one of the most handsome, because the attention to detail on his robust physique is extraordinary. He ‘saured into Finlay’s Stone Masonry shop in 2007, having been designed and built by an Asian wonderkind who specialises in crafting oversized creatures for theme parks.
Store owner and Big Thing tragic Tom Finlay even made sure the beautiful beastie was cyclone-proof, so he would last for thousands of years. Despite initial opposition from locals, Kev’s gorgeous grin and calm disposition won them over, and he became a beacon of hope for the town.
But, just like in the Academy Award-winning film Jurassic Park and its poorly-received sequels, things were about to go crazy for this sky-high stud. Bunnings Warehouse bought the Finlay’s site and busted the big bopper into pieces in 2019, leaving him as broken and shattered as the hearts of the people of Palmerston.
There he lay for more than a year, with the Territory’s red dirt entombing him. Hope was lost, crime rates soared, and it seemed as if Kev’s older sister, Ploddy, and his bashful niece Digby, would be left to mourn his passing.
Dinosauring back into our hearts
But that would be underestimating the passion of Palmerstonians. They took to the streets, signed petitions, and threatened violence if Kev wasn’t resurrected. Bunnings, who have a history of bringing decaying Bigs back to life, listened. When their new store was completed in 2020, Kev was placed proudly at the entrance. It took several days, but the energetic boys from local construction company Sunbuild did a fabulous job.
Kev welcomes every happy shopper who drives into the spacious, undercover car park, pointing them towards the bargains to be found inside – perhaps he grabbed some tips from the Big Prawn and the Big Merino, who also help out at Bunnings? Grubby tradies and soccer mums join together to take happy snaps with him. Palmerston is now one of the safest, happiest, towns on the planet. All because of Kev, the barnstorming brachiosaurus who defied extinction to bring love and hope to a generation.
On a related note, I think he’d look great with a top hat on his head! Let’s make it happen!
He might be modeled after the most brutal, bloodthirsty bushranger in Aussie history, but the only thing the Big Ned Kelly is going to steal is your heart! The six-metre-tall buckethead prefers taking photos to taking hostages, but is still very much on the most wanted list of anyone travelling through rural Victoria!
The original, smaller, nastier Ned became a national hero during the 1800s, as he pranced around robbing stagecoaches and slaughtering policemen with a glorified garbage bin on his head. He was finally shot and arrested in the remote village of Glenrowan in mid-1880, and hanged later that year, but his legend has continued to grow. It certainly is odd to have a Big designed after a hate-filled murderer – I can’t see Ivan Milat getting one any time soon – but the big guy is very welcoming of visitors.
Bucketloads of Big Bushrangers
Glenrowan has become a Mecca for Ned-Heads, so it’s no surprise there’s actually been three Big Bushrangers banged up over the years. The first, constructed in 1980, was stolen by a group of street toughs and dumped in a nearby river – a sad, if somewhat appropriate end. The second lives inside the Glenrowan Tourist Centre and can only be seen for a fee. Ah, Ned, pinching money from the public once again!
The current version took over the town in 1992, and was built by Sydney special effects guru Kevin Thomas. He weighs a zaftig 1.5 tonnes, cost $12,000, and it would be a crime not to visit him. Being so large means it must be difficult for Ned to find shoes that fit comfortably – so perhaps he could visit The Big Shoe, which is just down the road at Frankston?
He’s not the only king-sized Kelly around, though, because he has an almost identical twin brother up in Maryborough, Queensland. Ol’ Ned never went within a few thousand kilometres of the Banana State, so this version wins the award for authenticity. As an added bonus, you can have your photo taken with this Ned and then brag to your chums that you went to Maryborough – how wonderful!
Glenrowan is home to a number of shops selling Ned Kelly memorabilia, and the prices are reasonable so it’s not highway robbery. There’s an educational trail that rambles around the town’s historical sites, and you’ll have the crime of your life gaining insight into Ned’s last stand. The Glenrowan Hotel, which is right next door to where Ned was taken down, is a pleasant pub where the only shots to be found these days are served by the barman.
Ned’s last stand
Descendants of Kelly’s victims have campaigned for years to tear down the statue – and his twin in Maryborough – as they stir up terrible memories of family members being gunned down in cold blood. I say grow up! A pelican stole my donut back in 1987 and I stepped in some dog poo-poo last week, but you don’t see me trying to cancel their respective statues.
They say you should never judge a book by its cover; well, you should never judge a Big Thing by the fact he’s wearing a terrifying metal suit and carrying a shotgun. Ned’s one of the largest men I’ve ever been with, and a bad boy with a heart of gold. Nobody should have to twist your armour to go see him!
“There was an old woman who lived in the Big Shoe. Which had many admirers, most notably you The colossal clog has big, fluffy laces And through the windows peer happy little faces”
Diehard Big Thing aficionados dream of living inside a giant roadside attraction, and there are few cosier homes than this giant jogger. Sure, it’s a little rundown, but it has lovely feet-ure windows and boot-iful views of the Mooraduc Highway, so I have a sneaker-ing suspicion you’ll agree it’s prime heel estate!
The Big Shoe set tongues wagging in 1967, when the Bata Shoe Company unveiled it as a float for the Frankston Australia Day parade. Apparently Beta’s managing director, a Mr Gordon Thring and his nephew Roger snoozed in the sandal the night before, to ward off any ill-tempered thugs who might attempt to damage their creation.
The float was such a hit that it was a walk-up start in parades across Victoria for a number of years, before slipper-ing off into retirement at Two Bays Garden Supplies. It’s a festive history reminiscent of Pete the Pelican, Matilda, Lefty and Buffy the Cane Toad; unfortunately this story doesn’t have such a happy ending. It’s sat neglected for decades, and is currently in a sad state of disrepair. It’s a tragic end for a local icon that’s been on so many adventures. The Big Shoe is in desperate need of a cobbler, but nobody wants to foot the bill.
Whilst not as grand as Thornton’s Ugg Boots, these cleats are full of character and are a fun throw-back to the swingin’ sixties. It’s certainly worth making a thong and dance about. Groovy, dude!
My companion on this trip, Frankston-born singer-songwriter Scott Cairns, has many wonderful attributes but unfortunately has little appreciation for large roadside attractions. Imagine my surprise, then, when he was moved to tears as he recalled riding the Big Shoe during the 1969 parade. It was then that I realised just how much this icon means to the people of the Mornington Peninsula – it really is the heart and sole of the place.
Although he may seem shy at first, Colin is a turtle-y awesome dude once he comes out of his shell. And what a glorious exoskeleton it is, because it’s covered in shiny rep-tiles and features plenty of intricate details. This proud Territorian is one of the most beautiful Bigs around, and ready to splash his way into your heart!
Colin was built in 2004 to celebrate the new northern Darwin suburb of Lyons, which begs the question, why not a Big Lion? Techy Masero – the virtuoso who gave the world the Big Barramundi and George the Croc – is behind this four-metre-wide mosaic masterpiece, with assistance from local indigenous artists.
They’ve certainly tortoise a thing or two about Big Things, because this work is right up there with the Big Kookaburra and Murray the Cod as one of the finest works of art this country has produced. For example, just look at that exquisite mosaic tiling! Colin is such a cutie!
Green and serene, Col’s happy chilling in a quiet corner of the suburban Garamanak Park, next to a community centre and opposite a bunch of houses. Given his location, it’s a good thing he’s friendlier than his stingy neighbours, the Giant Jellyfish!
He shuns the spotlight and is happy for local kiddies and his steadily growing fanbase to get up close and personal – he certainly didn’t flipper out when I climbed on top of him. I could spend all day telling you stories about Col, but I’m not into Galapa-gossiping!
Wanguri schoolkids all know the three Rs – reading, ‘riting, and really big fish! They’re fortunate enough to have this behemoth barra swimming around the lovingly-maintained grounds of their a-cod-amy, providing lessons in largeness every little lunch. As you can see, she certainly makes the grade and has become a valuable member of the educ-ocean-al community!
Of course, being located within the grounds of Wanguri Primary School (motto: ‘Hooked On Learning’), in Darwin’s northern suburbs, means she can only be admired by the general public through an imposing fence. Well, unless you’re willing to risk a large fine and a good chasing from the on-site security. But lose that sinking feeling, because she’s fairly close the the barra-cade and assures me she’s happy with her home, as it allows her to introduce a new generation to the wonder of the Bigs. What a class act!
Just another manic ‘mundi
The barramundi was chosen to honour the local indigenous Larrakia and Wangurri people, and the tile patterns were designed by a group of particularly artistic students. The terrifically talented Techy Masero – the Big Thing luminary behind Colin the Turtle and George the Croc – built her out of steel and cement in 2009, but was unable to complete the intricate tile work due to reasons that have been lost to time. Thankfully the locals banded together to complete this aquatic cutie, and the Big Barramundi was o-fish-ially unveiled in 2010.
This Big Barramundi is a little snazzier than her cousin in Katherine, but smaller than other ‘mundis in Normanton and Daintree, Queensland. The mosaic artistry certainly deserves an A+, but this fish only gets a sea-plus when it comes to originality.
Poor old Bigs was bullied mercilessly in my school years, not only by my fellow pupils but by some of the crueler members of the teaching faculty, so I rarely attended classes. However, if Principal Van Beek had been thoughtful enough to welcome a Big Thing into the grounds, I wouldn’t have missed a moment. Oh well, one can only dream of being part of a school of giant fish…
If alcoholics see pink elephants, then those who prefer the intoxicating allure of Big Things must see pink buffalos! This festively-coloured fella is named Lefty, due to the unfortunate fact one of his bulbous, confronting testicles is larger than the other. Alright, alright, settle down! Small things (or, rather, massive dangly things) amuse small minds, I guess.
To spend a right good time with Lefty, buffalo your instincts to the delightful Travans Cars & Commercials, where you can have your photo taken with a giant roadside attraction and buy a second-hand Toyota Hilux in the same afternoon.
When I visited, nobody bothered coming over to chat to me during the 45 minutes I spent taking photos – probably because a burning passion for Big Things and an appreciation for reasonably-priced ex-fleet vehicles rarely go hand-in-hand.
Lefty pranced into the Territory as a grey-coloured parade float many years ago, in a similar manner to the Big Shoe and Percy the Big Pelican. He bullied his way into the hearts of Darwinians and gained a ravenous supporters club, so he was purchased by a local buffalo trading company and popped on permanent display. I don’t know about you, but that’s the sort of thing that would convince me to buy an enormous beastie!
A snazzy new paint job for Lefty wasn’t enough to keep the company afloat, and during the bankruptcy proceedings he ended up with his current owners. He seems happy enough in the car yard, much like Taree’s Big Oyster.
It seems like he could still be wheeled out for a party, but that he hasn’t hit the social scene in many years. So rock up, meet the Pink Prince and please, don’t say anything about how he got his name – Lefty is a sensitive soul.
Want to tackle another Big? Then allow me to lure you towards the dusty outpost of Katherine, where there’s a fish so large you’ll be swimming in tears of pure joy when you encounter her!
The Big Barra can be found perched pleasantly atop the Rod & Rifle Tackle World shop (open Mundi to Saturdi). At three metres long, she’s certainly some-fin special and still the talk of the town after several decades. Being so high up means she’s harder to take a photo with than fellow scaley scamps Murray the Cod or Manilla’s dapper Big Fish, but her exuberance more than makes up for this.
The Big Barramundi is certainly worth baiting for. It’s almost as if she’s fishing for compliments. Oh, aren’t I trout-landish!
Sadly, spending an afternoon with the old girl isn’t the magical experience you might expect. Katherine is a troubled town and this Big has been left floundering in a particularly rough neighbourhood. It’s not unusual to witness gill-egal activity whilst admiring the fish.
As I was swanning around in my flamingo tunic, a procession of ne’er-do-wells swaggered past to abuse me. Few, if any, had an appreciation for the cultural significance of the watery wonder, and said so in no uncertain terms when I floated the topic.
Honestly, some people don’t know how lucky they are to have an oversized fish to marvel at each and every day.
Nothing warms the heart like a shiny new Big sprouting out of nowhere, so imagine my joy when the Big Melon was unveiled in Chinchilla one slice day in 2019. And water specimen she is!
At nine metres long, three metres high and weighing four tonnes she certainly has the size to impress, but it’s the craftsmanship and attention to detail that makes this pink-and-green dream stand out. Seedless to say, I could write a power salad about her beauty!
Big-thusiasts have Wotif to thank for this thriller in Chinchilla, because the travel website launched a nationwide competition to find – and fund – our next incredible roadside attraction. Thousands of suggestions poured in, including the Big Box Jellyfish in Darwin and the Big Sausage Roll in Wyong.
Melons of votes from Big Thing zealots saw the Melon emerge victorious over the Big Kilt in Glen Innes, Big Tulip in Mittagong and the Big Peanut in Kingaroy. She really did leave the competition green with envy!
Whilst I believe the good people of Australia made the right decision, my soul weeps for those who came so close to having a Big to call their own. I hope the heartbroken residents of these towns don’t give up on their dreams. Until then they can visit other giants fruits such as the Big Banana, Big Pineapple and Big Fruit Bowl for a delicious treat!
She really is one in a melon!
The only negatives to the watermelon – apart from not being able to tuck into her perky pink bits! – are due to her location. She runs parallel to a straight section of the Warrego Highway, meaning that it’s difficult to achieve a full appreciation of its superb size without stopping.
That brings us to the other problem – it sits happily next to the local Visitor Information Centre, which has far too little parking for an attraction like the Melon. But I guess I’m just fruit picking… I mean nitpicking!
Chinchilla, 300km west of Brisbane, is the undisputed melon capital of Australia (although Gumlu, home of the original Big Watermelon, might argue that point), and is home to the wildly pip-ular annual MelonFest. The Melon’s opening ceremony was one of the biggest days in Chinchilla’s robust history, and I was fortunate enough to be the guest of honour.
After delivering a brief yet inspirational speech that was met with rapturous applause, my face went redder than the Melon’s juicy flesh when mayor and self-confessed Big tragic Paul McVeigh took to the stage with tears in his eyes, “Bigs, you’re the best friend Australia’s Big Things have ever had.”
What an abso-fruit-ly wonderful thing to be called!
Don’t be frightened of this fang-flashing fella, because he’s friendly! And he wouldn’t be able to chase you anyway, because he’s missing his back legs and just sort of merges into the fertile Tasmanian earth. The Tassie Terror is a curious and unforgettable Big in a quiet corner of the country, and you’ll have a hell of a time if you visit this devil!
Despite extensive research from myself and my sidekick, Brazilian Big Thing savant Bebezinha Grande, we were unable to pinpoint the devil’s exact age. Going by the style of the craftsmanship, which is eccentric, whimsicall and slightly homemade, my guess is he arrived sometime in the 70s. He certainly looks good for his age!
The titanic Tassie lives out the front of Trowunna Wildlife Sanctuary, where you can see smaller, more active devils for a small fee. That’s not marsupi-all they have, either, because the sanctuary is home to wombats, kangaroos, quolls, pademelons, owls, eagles, swans and ducks. No penguins, though, but you can see one of those just up the road.
Speaking of the Big Penguin, the Tassie Devil seems a bit underdressed in comparison. In fact, you could say that the Devil wears nada!
Nearby Mole Creek is home to 609 very friendly people and is famous for its honey, the nearby limestone caves, and the historic Mole Creek Hotel – which has a Big Tassie Tiger above the door! The village is also ideally positioned within 90 minutes drive of the astonishing Dove Lake and Cradle Mountain, so nature lovers are in for a treat. There are no moles around, though, making this another town that should be renamed to better represent its most famous resident.
I was absolutely devil-stated to say goodby to this happy chappy!
The good folk of the charming seaside village of Penguin must’ve struggled for years to decide which Big Thing would best represent them, before finally deciding on a penguin. And what a marvellous, happy chap he is, with a gorgeous smile on his beak, a proud posture, and a delightful top hat upon his handsome head.
This 3.15m-tall Taswegian is very cool indeed, and represents everything good and wondrous about Australia’s Big Things. He’s beautifully crafted, represents his region well, and demands to have his photo taken. Visitors can’t help but feel good around him – he’s a true national treasure!
It hasn’t been an easy journey for this frigid flightless fellow, and his incredible story is something you likely haven’t bird about. He was supposed to fly in to celebrate the town’s centenary in 1975, but the company behind the project got cold feet and were unable to follow through.
A local hero, Mr R.M. Foster, tottered in to take over construction and had our avian amigo constructed out of cement within three days. A more deserving member of the Big Hall of Fame you’ll never meet!
Q: Why shouldn’t you write a book on penguins? A: Beak-ause writing a book on paper is much easier!
Penguins are worshipped as demi-gods in her home city of Florianópolis, so my companion for this trip, Brazilian Big Things aficionado Professora Bebezinha Grande, was over the moon to meet him. She’s a very small woman and he’s a very large penguin, so they were best friends in no time! Professora Grande also enjoyed meeting the slightly smaller, but still oversized, penguin that resides outside the Visitor Information Centre across the road.
The Big Penguin is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to attractions in this part of the world. The village is lovely, with plenty of places to eat and drink, whether it’s warm and sunny or fireplace weather. The penguin theme runs throughout the streets, with bins and bollards all decorated as black-and-white birds.
Stanley, home of a long-extinct volcano known as The Nut, is just an hour’s drive west. Most importantly, the Penguin’s best mates, the Big Tassie Devil and the Big Wickets, are nearby so pop down to say g’day! It’s an informal and friendly region, so don’t bother bringing your penguin suit.
This roadside attraction is a peng-winner, so run, don’t waddle, to see him as soon as possible!
Stumped for something to do this weekend? Then run out to see this above-average-sized set of cricket wickets – they’ll bowl you over!
The very appealing Big Wickets were swing-stalled one day in 2009, in honour of Tasmania’s first Test cricket player, Jack Badcock. The wickets are an astonishing six-metres-tall, meaning Jack would’ve stood 15 metres if he was in proportion to them!
So maybe they should’ve called him Jack Bigco… alright, maybe not!
Despite some fine craftsmanship and impressive dimensions, the wickets are a little uninspired. My companion on this visit, Brazilian Big Thing expert Professora Bebezinha Grande, declared that an oversized cricket ball resting by one of the wickets would really make this attraction pop.
Perhaps even a batting helmet or a protective box, just to be quirky. I’m inclined to agree, as it would add some much-needed colour. Regardless of these minor issues, this maiden believes it’s a keeper!
If you’re running a little late, don’t worry, because it’s not six-o’clock and out and there’s no nightwatchman, so you can admire them 24 hours a day! Or maybe even five days in a row if you want an authentic Test cricket experience.
Bat wait, there’s more! The fun’s not over once you bail from the Big Wickets. Westbury is a dazzling town with heaps to offer, such as the baffling hedge maze with more than a kilometre of pathways, and Pearns Steam World, with one of the world’s largest collections of historic trains. It’s a quiet place where time seems to stop, within a short drive of Mole Creek, home of the lovable Big Tasmanian Devil, and not too far from the Big Penguin.
You’d have to be barking mad to miss out on The Big Golden Dog, which is conveniently located just 30 just minutes west of Coffs Harbour’s Big Banana! This four-metre tall, six-metre-long dreamboat scampered into Glenreagh in 2011 and has proven to be a howling success, with visitors often paws-ing for a photo with the handsome fellow.
The massive mutt stands guard outside the prosperous Golden Dog Hotel, which offers a wonderful selection of beers and traditional Aussie tucker. And no, despite the name, they don’t just serve Chum and kibble! There’s also a handful of Golden Dog souvenirs available – stubby coolers, bottle openers and such – but I hounded them about getting more stuff in.
Legend has it that, back in the day, a local hunk found a massive gold nugget nearby and raced into the pub to show it off. His chums, after presumably indulging in several celebratory lemon spritzers, decided the nugget bore a slight resemblance to a dog, and the pub was promptly renamed. Or at least that’s what the current owners, the ever-congenial Steph and Brendon, reckon.
The monstrous mongrel has a tough-guy snarl and a bit of a wild streak – but don’t worry, he’s generally well behaved and certainly man’s best friend. He’s also a bit of a cutie. Don’t believe me? Well, the woof’s in the puddingo!
Q: What does the Big Golden Dog eat at the movies? A: Pup-corn!
The prodigious pooch was crafted by local builder Gary Smith and his mastiff proportions are truly impressive, with more of a yellow collar than the expected sparkly gold. Obviously constructed with love, care and true skill, this beautiful bowwow also has a charming homemade quality, which is part of the appeal of all the best Bigs.
The original design was a little ruff, looking more like a mogwai than anything, so The Golden Dog was givena facelift in 2020. After the work he was every bit as cheek-pinchingly adorable as Pat the Dog, and just as strappingly handsome as Dunkeld’s Big Dog. Don’t worry, Goldie, even the most dapper gents have dabbled with cosmetic surgery – but I’m not sure we saw the same surgeon!
It’s not uncommon to see gangs of bearded motorcycle riders, mouth agape, staring in wonder at this giant dog during their weekend rides. Families gather to worship him. The beer garden is particularly pup-ular with patrons, and is the perfect place to enjoy a beer or ca-nine. In fact, it’s so nice you might want to stay fur-ever!
Yes, the behemoth barker is certainly labr-adorable, but I feel sorry for whoever has to clean up his big golden poo!
Next time you’re cray-ving a succulent seafood sandwich whilst driving along the Bruce Highway, nip in to the Shell service station at Miriam Vale. Not only will you encounter the most sensational food in the Gladstone region, but you can get up claws and personal with the lovable Big Crab!
He’s around two-metres wide and hasn’t scuttled off the roof of the servo since arriving in 1979, because he’s a bit of a hermit. But don’t worry, he doesn’t swear much and is certainly not a crass-tacean! Honestly, I still have to pinch myself to realise my encounter with this Big wasn’t just a dream!
Compared to other sea-dwelling Bigs such as Taree’s outrageously oversized Oyster and the colossal Croc Hotel, this side-strolling stud doesn’t impress with his size, and being on the roof means he can be a menace to take a cheeky selfie with.
Cars kept rolling into the service station as I posed with the snappy chappy, but the drivers invariably smiled and nodded, obviously understanding the majesty and wonder of this particular roadside attraction.
“That giant crab and your sparkling smile are enough to make me forget about the spiralling price of fuel,” one gruff farmer screamed as he peeled out of the car park. I had similar positive responses when I posed with a similar crustacean in San Francisco. I guess it’s hard to be crabby around a Big Thing!
Crabsolutely Fabulous
Former owner of the petrol station, Lex Milner, crafted the colossal cutie to draw attention to his impressive range of home-made crab sandwiches. The delightful Allan and Judy Taylor adopted the amazing arthropod more than two decades ago and still watch their mouthwatering delicacies scurry out the door to this day.
I indulged in one of these irresistible treats and I can tell you there’s nothing fishy about them. I did feel a little guilty tucking into one of the Big Crab’s relatives in front of him, but he’s got a hard shell and didn’t seem too bothered by it.
Please make sure you’re sitting down before you read this, Biggies – The Big Shell is no more! The new owners of this icon removed it during renovations to the property in 2021. Well, I guess they were the ones who shelled out for it.
This entry has been preserved as it was written, so we can all go back to a simpler time, when Tewantin was synonymous with its beautiful Big Shell.
Even though this three-metre-tall beauty recently shell-ebrated her 60th birthday, she’s still a must-sea attraction! The Big Shell was built to draw customers to the popular Big Shell shop, which sold – surprise surprise – a wide selection of shells.
The store’s closed these days, and now the shell sits proudly in the front yard of a regular house in downtown Tewantin – imagine how awesome it would be to walk through a Big Thing every time you pop out to check the mail!
The Big Shell is well-hidden in a quiet, leafy residential street, making for a very different Big experience. It feels a bit weird to pose for photos in a stranger’s front yard, but from all reports the owners are welcoming to any Big Thing enthusiasts who wash up at their doorstep. If you see them, give ’em a wave!
You Always Leave Me Tewantin More
The property sold in 2020 for the bargain price of $600,000, and hopefully the new owners will maintain the Big Shell for years to come, because she really sands out from the crowd. The area is something of a graveyard for Bigs, with the Shell’s friends the Big Stubby and the House of Bottles being tragically torn down in recent decades. Happily, the Big Pelican is still flying high in nearby Noosaville, so make shore to check it out!
If you’d like to listen to the sounds of the ocean swirling around inside another giant shell, the paradisical village of Terrigal recently welcomed The Odyssey of Life. There’s also a huge conch shell in México, if you ever pop in there for a taco and some Big Thing hunting. I’m not usually one to kiss and shell, but I’m sure you’ll find it un-beach-lievable!
I loved my visit to Tewantin’s Big Shell, and fortunately I was able to scurry away before a Big Hermit Crab crawled out to pinch me!
A wonderful bird is the Big Pelican His beak can hold more than his belly can He’s the size of a house And really quite grouse I can’t wait to visit my friend Pete again!
Next time you spread your wings and visit the Big hotspot of the Sunshine Coast, make a splash landing in the seaside resort town of Noosaville, home of the Big Pelican! The overgrown chicken – known to his legion of admirers as Pete – boasts an un-beak-lievable backstory – after all, how many other Big Things have spent time at the bottom of the ocean?
The supersized seabird hatched in 1977, and spent his early life as a float for the Festival of the Waters parade – a similar childhood to fellow Queensland legends Buffy the Big Cane Toad and Matilda the Kangaroo, and NT megastar Lefty the Big Pink Buffalo. The pelican could turn his head, open and shut his bill, flap his wings, blink his eyelashes, and wiggle his tail cheekily as his fans flocked to see him
The float was so advanced that it took two dedicated technicians to keep Pete running, using a complicated system of levers, pulleys and cables. Sports stars, politicians, beauty queens and TV stars were seen riding on his back, but their celebrity was often overshadowed by that of the pelican. Pete didn’t get a big head about it, though, because he already had one!
Peli-can things get any worse?
The early 80s were a rough time for Pelican Pete, who deteriorated badly and was at one point dumped into the Noosa Although it might sound like an abs-bird coincidence, the same thing happened to the other Big Pelican in South Australia. It seemed like a tragic end for such a beloved figure.
However, he was plucked out of the drink and put on permanent display next to Pelican Boat Hire. His functionality was restored – apparently the bill was particularly large! To this day, he still flies out for parades, making him one of the few mobile Bigs.
There are few more picturesque locations for a Big Thing, and few things in life match the joy of eating a bag of hot chips under a lush Noosaville tree, the sparkling river on one side, the world’s largest penguin smiling happily on the other.
A number of local shops sell Pete souvenirs and, best of all, the Big Shell is only a few minutes away in Tewantin. I’m not sure life peli-can get any better!
A brief note on Trudi
Amidst my dalliance with Pete, I was approached by Trudi, a Noosaville local with a strong affinity for this plucky Pelican. Trudi told me that she sees Pete every single day on her morning walk and, from the way she played with her hair when she was around the affable chap, it was obvious their relationship is very special indeed.
“Pete’s the only man who’s never let me down,” gushed the long-time reader of this very website. “No matter what state I’m in, or how bedraggled, Pete always greets me with a big smile and a non-judgemental attitude. Unlike my ex-boyfriend Diego! Now that’s one guy who would never make it onto a website called Land of the Bigs, if you know what I mean.”
I do, Trudi. We all have a Diego in our past.
For fear of turning Land of the Bigs into a crass dating site (long-time readers will remember how that turned out last time), I’d like to welcome respectable expressions of interest from any young men who’d like to step out with Trudi. Honestly, this girl needs a man, she’s been spending too much time around that pelican!
They say the smile of a Lithgow local could light up the darkest night, so it’s appropriate that the town is home to the world’s largest miner’s lamp. I’m sure you’ll find a visit to this behemoth beacon, two hours west of Sydney, to be an illuminating experience!
The Big Miner’s Lamp is one of the more sizable Bigs, but I didn’t even realise what it was until I stopped by and gave it a good look. It’s not well publicised and gives the impression that the lantern was plopped on top of the building as an afterthought.
I’ve always had my reservations about Bigs that weren’t originally designed as such, and this structure is a glowing example of this concerning trend. I apologise if that statement was somewhat incendiary! The Big Lamp, however, should still be kero-seen.
The area’s Visitor Information Centre resides within the bowels of the large lantern, and the friendly volunteers are only too happy to point you in the direction of Lithgow’s other highlights, such as the breathtaking Hassan’s Walls lookout and the quirky Small Arms Factory.
They outshine the Big Lamp who, by comparison, can come across as a bit reserved. A wackier, more inventive design could’ve gone a long way to changing Lithgow’s dreary reputation. But you know you want to see it, so don’t torch-er yourself, check it out today!
Aussies are berry much in love with giant fruits, with the Big Banana, Big Melon, Big Pineapple and Big Mango currant-ly amongst the country’s most popular roadside attractions. Consider Bilpin’s Big Fruit Bowl to be a sort of grap-est hits collection, with a wide variety of fresh produce all in one place, and some sub-lime sculpting skills on display.
Despite looking a little tired and in need of a lick of paint, the Bilpin Fruit Bowl is exquisitely designed, detailed, and easy to take a photo with. At two metres tall it’s big enough to take one’s breath away, without being too large to appreciate the finer features. Whilst I visited alone, I can imagine it would be a wonderful place to take a date.
The Big Fruit Bowl is plum by the side of the main road as you cross the Blue-berry Mountains. The adjacent fruit shop and the sprawling peach, apple and nectarine fields behind it have been owned and operated by the Tadrosse family since 1985, and this Big Thing sprouted around that time. It’s possible to pick your own fruit on a weekend – the perfect souvenir of a delicious day out.
And then one grapeful day…
Tragedy struck in 2019, when ferocious bushfires roared through the region and destroyed a large portion of the Fruit Bowl’s farmland. More than 6000 fruit trees were razed, causing more than $3 million damage. The Bilpin Fruit bow, thankfully, was saved from a flaming fate. Small mercies, big fruit!
This fruity bunch are a great part of history, located in a beautiful village surrounded by natural wonders. It’s possible to go hiking, camping and traipsing through award-winning gardens in a single afternoon. The local cider is particularly enjoyable. The apple and strawberry variety will bowl you over, and there are non-alcoholic options for the kiddies.
Pull up a chair, citrus in the shade, and admire Bilpin’s Big Fruit Bowl!
After herring rumours of a big fish in Manilla – the lovely country town half-an-hour from Tamworth’s Big Golden Guitar, not the capital of The Philippines – I was hooked on the idea of tracking it down. After taking some time to mullet over, I headed out there, and am happy to say that it reely was worth it. In fact, standing next to this fishface, with his delightful top hat and cane, we both felt a little underdressed!
Details of when the Big Fish was constructed are a bit fin on the ground. Locals de-bait when he first swam into Manilla. All I know is that he’s an impressive seven metres tall, and goofy-looking enough to splash his way into anyone’s heart. Despite being the same species, he’s about as different from St George’s modern and artistic Murray the Cod, Tocumwal’s historic Cod, or Darwin’s whimsical Big Barramundi, as you can imagine.
The giant groper stands proudly outside the Big Fish Roadhouse in the middle of town, which is sadly closed these days. We didn’t go hungry, though, because Manilla boasts a generous selection of restaurants, pubs and clubs, and we were feeling a little green around the gills after stuffing ourselves with delicious food at the Royal Hotel!
Manilla’s also home to an historic Chinese cemetery, a delightful campground by the Namoi River, and one of the world’s most famous paragliding launches. All in all, it was a good excuse to get trout and about, and the day went swimmingly. I fish I had more time to spend with my new mate, but was very pleased with the happy snapper I took!
If imitation is indeed the sincerest form of flattery, the original Big Pineapple must have an ego even bigger than he is! This North Coast icon has spawned spiky spin-offs around the world, from Woombye and Gympie in Queensland to Bathurst in South Africa, but to many he’s still the most scrumptious tropical treat.
At a modest four metres from supple bottom to prickly top, the Ballina Pineapple is outsized by his imitators. He’s a quirky throwback to a gentler time – like Gumlu’s Big Watermelon, which is dwarfed by Chinchilla’s Big Melon. He’s certainly not lonely, with his disciples often stopping by for a photo. His best mate, the Big Prawn, also lives right down the road. Maybe they should change the name of the town to Ba-large-na!
Little is known about the age of the Pineapple, or who built him. Most locals believe he’s been sitting outside the BP service station since the beginning of time. It would be easy to fritter away an afternoon speculating on when he was built. Ultimately, however, it would ultimately be a fruit-ile endeavour. I definitely don’t remember a time when my spherical chum wasn’t a focal point of any trip up north!
There’s just enough space to squeeze inside the juicy giant. It’s even possible to pop your cheery little face out the window for a memorable photo. Just look how happy my Brazilian companion Bebezinha Grande was to meet him! Abaca-she had the time of her life!
All in all, the Big Pineapple makes for a pine day out!
Have you herd about the world’s largest farm animal? Don’t be sheepish, visit the ewe-mungous Big Merino today! At 15.2m high, 18m long and weighing more than 100 tonnes, you’ll be amazed by the shear size of this gentle giant, who features p-ruminant-ly on the Goulburn landscape.
The Big Merino is the brainchild of Big Thing luminaries Louis and Attila Mokany, who were also behind Taree’s outrageous Oyster and Ballina’s prodigious Prawn. Designed by Gary Dutallis and built by Glenn Senner, the project took around six months to com-bleat.
The woolly wonder came ram-paging into town in 1985, with hundreds of thousands of tourists c-lamb-ering to see him. Along with a gift shop and a museum dedicated to the region’s wool industry tucked away inside his belly, our mammoth mate’s eyes provided a wonderful view out over Goulburn’s verdant fields.
I still remember the first time I met this friendly farm animal – it was love at first sight because I’d never seen a roadside attraction on such a scale, or with so many incredible details. He looks like he’s about to wander off into the wilderness at any moment!
Q: Where does the Big Merino get his wool cut? A: At the baa-baa!
His legion of fanciers came to know him as Rambo but don’t worry. Unlike his action film namesake, he has a calm disposition and is highly unlikely to attack you with a machine gun.
When Goulburn was bypassed by the Hume Highway in 1992, many of Rambo’s admirers feared for his future. However, we needn’t have worried. In 2007 he was plonked on the back of a truck and moved 800m up the road to his current home near the southern exit ramp.
I was lucky enough to witness the move, along with thousands of others, and to this day it remains one of the most inspiring feats of human achievement. I was so inspired, in fact, that I trotted straight over to Karoonda, South Australia to see their take on The Big Ram.
Today, Rambo is more striking than ever. Cosmetic work was carried out after his migration to complete his legs and add some other minor details, and his eyes now peer out over a nearby Bunnings Warehouse. I guess he has something in common with his brothers the Prawn and Big Kev in that regard! The sprawling gift shop in his tum-tum has plenty of Big Merino souvenirs at great prices, so they won’t try to fleece you!
Q: What do you get if you mix the Big Merino with Matilda the Kangaroo? A: A woolly jumper!
Baaaaaaa-t wait, there’s more! It seems that a small number of scoundrels purporting to be friends of the Bigs have taken to molesting Rambo’s rude parts, which are displayed prominently at the rear of the beast. Many, tragically, delight in taking photos of this act of treason. Whilst I’m sure they believe this to be funny or clever, it is neither.
In fact, it’s a gross exploitation of our friend’s privacy. He has feelings, too, so please leave his Big Balls alone. Admire them, sure, but leave his balls alone. If you dare send me a photograph of this manner, you’ll end up on Rambo’s Hall of Shame. You’ve been warned. You might think you can get away with it, but you can’t pull the wool over my eyes!
Proving that one man’s trash is another man’s Big Thing, Murray the Cod was built completely out of rubbish – and the end result is a gill-a-minute experience! He truly is some-fin special and, whilst I’m not sure what weight he tips the scales at, he’s surely one of the biggest aquatic critters in the tuna-verse!
Acclaimed sculptor Dion Cross spent more than 18 months designing and building Muzza out of discarded tools, old farming equipment and scrap metal, and the big fella was completed in 2019. If he looks swam-iliar, that’s because he might remind you of another scrap metal Big, Kurri Kurri’s Kookaburra.
Murray’s one of the most chilled-out Bigs, and can be found relaxing by the banks of the peaceful Balonne River. St George is the inland fishing capital of Queensland, so this 2.5 metre-long bait-biter is certainly popular with the locals.
Whilst it’s worth making a trip out to St George just for Murray, this tranquil outback town offers plenty more to see and do. Queensland’s westernmost vineyard, the Riversands Winery, is a short walk up the road, and there’s also the famous Unique Egg museum. Yes, it’s all it’s cracked up to be! Located (or should that be yolk-ated?) in the main street, it’s home to dozens of intricately-carved emu eggs.
There’s something fishy going on in North Queensland, and it has to do with this titanic tin of sardines! The packet of pilchards rests peacefully in Lloyd Mann Park, and surely has the key to your heart!
The box of smelly fish was created by Vass Engineering and sign writer Sam Scuderi, and peeled open to the public at a gala event in 2018. John Woods, president of Home Hill’s wildly successful Harvest Festival and the mastermind behind the sardines, told those in attendance that this Big symbolises the fact his festival is open for ideas.
That certainly seems to be the case, because if you turn up at the right time of year you’ll see all sorts of oddball ornaments strewn around the park. I encountered a terrifying dragon in addition to a tyre dressed up as a frog. Hey guys, what are you putting in the sardines up there!
Woods went on to explain that Home Hill once housed a sardine cannery. However, judging by the raucous laughter from the audience, he was just fishing for a laugh.
The Big Sardine Can is an odd, yet well-realised and endearing roadside attraction that straddles the boundaries between Big Thing and work of art. It’s a brine alternative to the outlandish Big Fish and the more serious, thoughtful Big Barramundi, providing a different perspective on just what it means to be an enormous sea creature. Just make sure these salty fish don’t end up on a Big Pizza!
Bigs in this region of Queensland are packed in like, well, sardines, with the Big Pumpkin, Big Watermelon and Big Snake all within a short drive – so you can see them all in a single scrumptious afternoon!
If you’re planning to hit the frog and toad on a trip up north, don’t froget to stop in at Sarina to see this ample amphibian! At around one metre wide and one metre high, Buffy isn’t the largest Big Thing around, but I’m not croaking when I say she’s one of the cutest!
The story of this friendly frog is truly ribbeting. Buffy started life as a papier maché float at the 1983 Sarina Sugar Festival, and was such a hit with the locals that he was cast in fibreglass and placed in the main street. It’s a similar tale to that of other Queensland icons Pete the Pelican and Matilda the Kangaroo, and the boot-iful Big Shoe in Victoria.
A Name-the-Frog competition in 1998 came up with Buffy, which was supposedly a play on the cane toad’s former scientific name Bufo marinus, but more likely a reference to the popular TV show Buffy the Vampire Slayer. One can only assume that other options included Seinfeld, Home & Away and Everybody Loves Raymond.
Buffy was given a new lick of paint in 2016, and skipped up onto a platform to give herself a better view of the passing traffic. The local council also added a plaque celebrating four other famous Cane Toads from Sarina – rugby league superstars Dale Shearer, Kevin Campion, Martin Bella and Wendell Sailor.
I bet the boys are hopping mad that they didn’t get their own statues!
She’s toad-ally awesome, dude!
Despite the cane toad’s reputation for being a poisonous nogoodnik, I’m pleased to report that Buffy – like her stingy chums the Giant Jellyfish in Darwin – didn’t try to kill me even once!
Buffy’s actually been frog-napped a number of times, but has thankfully has always found her way back home. These days she’s chained to his concrete slab, so don’t get any ideas about taking her home as a souvenir.
Speaking of which, I was unable to find any magnets, stickers, t-shirts or anything else with Buffy on them, which was a tadpole disappointing.
The heart of Australia’s sugar cane industry, Sarina is a sweet little town of around 5000 people. The beach and mountains nearby, and it’s only half an hour from the buzzing metropolis of Mackay.
I’m not am-fibbing-an when I say you’ll be feeling des-pond-ent if you don’t bounce along to Sarina and see Buffy toaday!
This agri-cultural landmark has to be seed to be believed! The wonderful watermelon sits blissfully by the side of the Bruce Highway at an open-air fruit and veg shop, and despite being a bit old fashioned provides Big-thusiasts with a gourd opportunity for a happy snap.
Details on when this delicious treat rolled into the Queensland sunshine are thin on the ground, but it’s certainly been wowing bypassers for generations. The fruity beauty is around three metres wide and it’s possible to wander inside and pop your little face out the window for a healthy and happy photo. The Gumlu soil is obviously fertile, as the Big Pumpkin sprouted up just a few metres away, making for a nutritious diet of Big Thing goodness!
Whilst this North Queensland icon has been overshadowed by the newer, larger and more famous Big Melon at Chinchilla, it remains a quaint reminder of a simpler time. Pip and say hello!
Next time you’re veget-able to visit North Queensland, go see this gourd-geous guy – trust me, he’ll give you pumpkin to brag about to your chums! The three-metre-tall delicacy rests contentedly by the side of the Bruce Highway and has really carved out a reputation as one of the state’s finest attractions.
The circular superstar is charming and well-realised, with a cartoony cheekiness that begs to be explored. The history of the Pumpkin is less accessible, however, with locals unable to remember a time when it wasn’t sitting outside the village’s fruit and veg shop. I guess that stems from the fact the world was a poorer place without this sun-kissed sweetie.
Gumlu is barely a speck on the map, but the Big Pumpkin is certainly not lonely. Not only does he have his legion of admirers stopping by for a hug and a happy snap, but his best mate the Big Watermelon lives a few metres away. He’s also a short roll away from Ayr’s Big Snake and Bowen’s Big Mango – so the area is a smorgasbord for lovers of Bigs. That alone should squash any doubts about whether you should head there!
With his striking looks and worldwide fame, the Big Pineapple is a rock star of the Big Thing universe. But like most pop culture icons he’s seen the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, been hammered by scandals, fought public battles and rolled, sneering and strutting, back out into the spotlight. This is the story of the legendary Woombye Pineapple.
The towering treat comes from humble beginnings, created as a cover version of Ballina’s much smaller pineapple. Controversy surrounded him from the start, with a rival pineapple being constructed at the same time just up the road in Gympie. The battle of the Bigs was nasty at times; the Woombye team bragged that theirs would be taller, so the Gympie gang claimed theirs would be wider. One side noted theirs would have more realistic texturing, so the other boasted their would have a more authentic shape. Both were completed in 1971, both were 16 metres tall, and the bitter rivalry continued for decades.
Q: Why doesn’t the Big Pineapple fit in with the other Big fruit? A: Because he’s rough around the edges!
As tourism boomed, the adjoining Sunshine Plantation became a beacon for those escaping the cold weather in the southern states. With a working farm, harvesting demonstrations and a small train to take visitors through the luscious crops, it was a simple yet blissful way to spend an afternoon.
Comrades especially enjoyed climbing up to the Pineapple’s viewing platform, which offered an unparalleled panorama out over the landscape. In 1978 the Nutmobile tour was added, which allowed astonished visitors to ride a train with carriages shaped like Macadamias. Tourists went nuts for it!
The Pineapple’s groupies ballooned to more than 800,000 per year, and the spiky-haired heartthrob was spotted partying with fellow celebrities such as Princess Diana, Prince Charles, and the guy who played Nudge on … Hey Dad! It seemed like nothing could stop the soaring fame and fortune of this sun-kissed superstar. But what goes up must come down, and what followed by a dramatic swan-dive from into degeneracy.
Q: What’s the Big Pineapple’s relationship status? A: Pine-appily single!
Despite adding a rainforest walk and animal nursery during the early-90s, the Pineapple’s celebrity plummeted, as young folk turned their attention to newer crazes such as sniffing glue and dancing the Macarena. The Sunshine Coast superstar even lost his record as the largest pineapple in the world, when a three-storey, 17-metre-tall rival appeared in Bathurst, South Africa.
Suddenly, the coolest kid on the block seemed old, daggy and irrelevant, playing songs the new generation didn’t want to hear. Like the Prawn, Oyster and Ploddy the Dinosaur, he was yesterday’s hero and the future looked grim. Facing massive tax bills and looking burnt-out from decades of excess, the faded fruit was passed from owner to owner before going into receivership in 2009 and closing in 2010. It seemed this song had been sung.
Becoming a broken-down shadow of his former self didn’t stop a local produce consortium purchasing the Pineapple shortly after his closure, and he was able to embark on a moderately successful comeback tour in 2011. He seemed tired and depressed, but his loyal supporters were just happy that he made it through at all – his blood rival in Gympie wasn’t so lucky, being destroyed in 2008.
Q: What do you call a 16-metre-tall fruit who complains too much? A: The Big Whine-apple!
But then a miracle happened. Nostalgia came into vogue and suddenly Big Things were cool again (alright, they were always cool, but the plebs were finally waking up to this fact!). After spending some time in rehab and receiving a facelift and a new lick of paint, the friendly fruit returned to the limelight to welcome more fans than ever before. A star was reborn!
In recent years his owners have renovated the grounds, introduced the wildly successful Big Pineapple Music Festival, and expanded the on-site the cafe, which also sells a mouthwatering array of Big Pineapple merchandise (although not, sadly, a pineapple-shaped knitted cap, which is what I was hoping to purchase).
For thrill-seekers, the facility is also home to the highest ropes course in Australia, and the pineapple (who, by the way, is no relation of the Big Pine Cones) himself is home to a two-storey museum dedicated to the local farming industry. One day is simply not enough to see everything on offer!
It’s been a wild ride for this bad boy of Big Things, but he’s emerged from the depths of hell with a positive attitude and a new lease on life. He’s fresher than ever, cool as a cucumber, and ready to inspire a whole new generation of Aussies towards greatness. This is one pineapple you certainly wouldn’t pluck off your pizza!
You need to ‘Kurri’ along and see this winged wonder, and that’s no laughing matter!
The king-sized kingfisher landed in 2009, stands a regal 4.5-metres tall, and was built to celebrate the 40th anniversary of the nearby Hydro Aluminium smelter. As you can see from the photos, he’s absolutely beautiful, and local artist Chris Fussel obviously put a lot of love and care into his work.
Honestly, the craftsmanship is awesome, and the Big Burra should be considered a genuine work of art. I’ve seen some gorgeous roadside attractions, and none surpass this winged wonder. His claws are made out of old horseshoes and his feathers have been individually forged, so he’s a step up from most of his fellow Bigs.
It’s a shame he’s stranded in the underwhelming Col Brown park, because he deserves better than to peer out on some pawn shops and the local Centrelink. In saying that, you could do worse than enjoying the warm feather by sharing your sandwich with the big boy on a pleasant afternoon. They also sell Big Kookaburra magnets across the road at the tourist information centre, which is a plus!
The Big Kookaburra is nice and close to The Big Ugg Boots and Ossie the Mossie, making for a great day out hunting Big Things. You can enjoy this fascinating fowl and then hop along to the nest ginormous stupendous statue. Or you could include this beaked beauty in a tour of all the amazing avians this country has to offer, such as Pete the Pelican, the Big Parrot, Chinute Chinute and ‘Stunning’ Stanley the Emu. You’d be cuckoo not to!
He’s flappin’ magnificent and available seven days a beak, so chick him out! But beware, your time with him will fly by!
These boots are made for walkin’, and that’s just what they’ll do, one of these days these boots are gonna be in a photo with you!
The Big Ugg Boots swaggered into town back in April 2015, and being so close to the Pacific Highway means they’re the perfect place to kick up your heels on a journey north or south. Weighing in at 600kg each and made from fibreglass and steel, they’re a step up from your usual shoes.
They’re tough, too – less than 24 hours after their grand unveiling, a cyclone raged through the Hunter Valley, but the stupendous slippers weathered the storm.
Every so often, the owners invite local artists along to give the Uggies a new coat of paint. As you can see, they feet-ure a festive paintjob at the moment, and the artist obviously injected a lot of sole into decorating this Big.
The adjoining Mortels Sheepskin Factory has a small number of Big Uggies nik naks, and a huge range of woollen goodies so don’t be sheepish – pop in and have a look! The checkout chick was particularly friendly and helpful when I dropped by, which helped make for a splendid day out at this very new Big Thing.
Shoe strings and Big Things
Being so close to the Big Kookaburra at Kurri Kurri and Ossie the Mossie at Hexham means that the Hunter is fast becoming a new hot spot for Big Things, and makes a perfect trip for anyone who admires larger than life roadside attractions. If you’re looking for a scruffier, yet slightly more historic shoe to worship, there’s the Big Shoe in Victoria.
If you’re a tough guy, maybe the Big Doc Martens are more your style. Prefer your booties to have wheelies? Don’t be ashamed! Just head to the Big Roller Skate! Oh, and if you ever find yourself in Guatemala – and, let’s face it, most people will at some point, make sure you trot along to La Bota Gigante.
You don’t need to have a foot fetish to visit these colossal clogs, so you’ll be kicking yourself if you miss them!
Even though he was never completed, abandoned within years of opening, and now houses a car dealership, the outrageously oversized Big Oyster is a real pearler! He’s enormous, goofy, overblown, tragic, beautiful and repulsive – and that’s what we all love about our Bigs!
The incredible invertebrate opened in 1990, as the last of three Bigs built by brothers Louis and Attila Mokany. He followed Goulburn’s Merino and Ballina’s Prawn, and has suffered even more misfortune than those troubled ventures. Pleased with their work on the Prawn, the Mokanys once again tapped Adelaide-based Glenn Industries and scallop-tor James Martin to work on this project.
As Australia’s leading historian on Big Things, it came as a surprise to all when I, the inimitable Bigs Bardot, wasn’t consulted regarding the design and budgetary considerations. Maybe it was because I was only seven years old at the time, maybe it was because of the patriarchy, I’ve never received an answer.
The people of Taree, who invested their hopes and dreams into this behemoth bivalve mollusc, have rued this decision ever since. For my pearls of wisdom may have saved years of heartbreak.
Dis-oyster strikes
Yes, dear reader, setting up this 20-metre-high, 27-metre-wide, 70-tonne sea monster wasn’t all smooth sailing. Construction ran wildly over budget, costing more than $700,000, and took so long that the boys had to make some serious cutbacks just so they could open it to the public.
I know, that shucks, but it’s just what happened.
Whilst the top of the Oyster – you know, the bit visitors can’t see – is exquisitely crafted, the bottom features almost no detail at all, and was simply sprayed with concrete as the cash ran out.
A giant, luminescent pearl that was planned as the centrepiece of the attraction was never installed, and apparently sits in the offices of Glenn Industries, after a dispute regarding payments.
Whilst I’m appalled that someone would be shellfish enough to keep a part of a Big Thing all to themselves, it sounds like bliss to be able to walk into the office every day and experience the heart and soul of the Big Oyster!
Best of shuck to you!
Regardless of these fish-ues, Big Thing fiends were clam-ouring to sea the Oyster when he was prised open by New South Wales Premier Nick Greiner in 1990. I was lucky enough to mussel into the crowds, and remember feeling particularly oysterous that afternoon!
Unfortunately I struggled to build an emotional connection with him (the Oyster, that is, not Nick Greiner), due to his impersonal styling, awkward angles for photos and, yes, lack of a handsome face.
His size inspires awe, and he originally boasted a shop full of Oyster nik-naks and plenty of information on Taree’s burgeoning oyster farming industry. Sadly, The Big Oyster’s popularity soon festered like a seafood platter left out in the sun on a hot afternoon, and he was taken off the menu in 1995.
The Big Oyster’s fate was sealed when the Pacific Highway bypassed the town two years later, and he now serves as the headquarters of the Mid Coast Automotive Group where, ironically, the prices aren’t big at all! Car yards are popular resting place for Bigs, with Lefty the Big Pink Buffalo also living amongst a bunch of used vehicles. This sort of thing just drives me wild!
The Big Oyster, once the soul of Taree has been supplanted in the hearts and minds of locals by Joanna the Goanna. Well, she is a little bit more huggable!
Yes, this Taree icon is a bit of a seafood basketcase, and maybe that’s why I love him so much – because I am too. Really, we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. Running over the streets of Taree, my oyster and me. Delicious with garlic and beer, wish you were here.
I sure felt like a shrimp compared to this supersized sea creature! The princely prawn is one of the most famous and celebrated roadside attractions on the planet, and for good reason – he’s massive, looks fantastic, and has an unbelievable tale… or is that tail?
Actually, it’s both! When the Prawn first swam ashore back in 1989, he looked like a Big Fish had been nibbling on him, because his bottom bits were missing.
Financed by the legendary duo of Attila and Louis Mokany (the Big Thing gurus behind Goulburn’s Merino and Taree’s Oyster) and designed by South Australian sculptor James Martin, his top half rested on top of a service station. He was on a scale nobody antici-bait-ed, but as a child I was always a bit sad because he appeared unfinished.
Curiously, Martin wasn’t originally supposed to design the Prawn, with that honour bestowed upon Tony Colangelo, the legendary designer of the Big Oyster.
However when that project faced a series of delays, the Mokanys grabbed someone from the local art school. It’s an incredible series of events, because the Prawn turned out to be intricately detailed and possibly the most impressive Big of them all.
Q: What happened when this Big Thing went to the Olympics? A: He won a prawns medal!
At 27 metres tall and weighing 40 tonnes, the krill-iant construction was designed to be 30,000 times the size of a normal shrimp. He was a hit with holidaymakers, who lined up to explore his splendid insides, which held a museum dedicated to Ballina’s seafood industry, and allowed his friends to peer out his perspex eyeballs. The good times looked like they’d last forever but, tragically, disaster was on the horizon.
The Prawn’s service station was shuttered in 2010, leaving him trapped and alone, with his fans no longer to explore his sprawling innards. His paint faded badly and he started to rot away, leading some closed-minded people to call him an eyesore. It was a bad time for giant shrimp, with the other Big Prawn falling into disrepair at the same time.
As I drove by one afternoon during those bleak days, I was moved to tears when I discovered that a disgusting invertebrate had spraypainted a part of the male anatomy on the poor Prawn’s head.
I was absolutely appalled when I saw it, because I’d rather die than allow a Big Thing to experience a single moment of sadness.
Q: Where’s the best place to buy second-hand Big Thing souvenirs? A: A prawn shop!
For years it appeared this Big Thing would be prawn but not forgotten. Ballina Council voted to tear him down, and his legion of supporters held vigils as they counted down the days till his demise. And then, during the Prawn’s darkest hour, a miracle happened.
Hardware company Bunnings bought him with the intention of moving him to their new warehouse near the original Big Pineapple, at a cost of $400,000. They planned to repaint him and – most remarkable of all – finally give him a tail. You’ve never crusta-seen a celebration like the one in Ballina when it was announced.
The new design is simply magnificent, and I very much prefer it to his original look. It’s sad, of course, that visitors can no longer walk inside him, but it’s a small price to pay to have this mega mollusc back and better than ever. I just hope nobody tries to pop him on the Bunnings barbie!
And that, ladies and jellyfish, is the story of the king-sized crustacean who lost his way but found his tail, his home, and his smile.
If the sound of the world’s largest guitar is music to your ears, you need to pluck up the courage to visit the prosperous city of Tamworth, in the north-west of New South Wales. There you’ll find the enormous Big Golden Guitar, which at 12 metres tall and weighing 500kg, was music to the ears of locals when he rocked into town back in 1988. Slim Dusty was on hand to unveil the large lad, in recognition of Tamworth’s reputation as Australia’s home of country music.
Made from fibreglass and steel, the unreal ukelele sadly has no strings. He has, howebver, struck a chord with the more than four million admirers who’ve had their photo taken with him over the years. The wonder of the Big Golden Guitar is amplified by the fact he’s a scale replica of the trophies handed out at the annual Australian Country Music Awards.
This big axe – not be confused with the actual Big Axe at Kew, four hours away – boasts exceptional build quality and is impressively large. My guest, Brazil’s foremost expert in Big Thingophelia, Professora Bebezinha Grande, went as far as to call it an in-strum-ental part of Australian culture. Don’t pick on her, she tries her best!
Q: How can you tell the Big Golden Guitar is worried? A: He frets a lot.
The incredible instrument is certainly not in the fiddle of nowhere. He’s conveniently located on the main road into Tamworth from the south, outside the Visitor Information Centre. When you drop by, make a day of it by visiting the Country Music Wax Museum or the National Guitar Museum. There’s even a sprawling souvenir shop, which offers a huge variety of nik-naks dedicated to this colossal creation.
You might even run into Lee Kernaghan or one of Australia’s other country music icons at the on-site cafe! Honestly, these guys are lurking around all the time.
“Bigs,” Lee Kernaghan gasped after taking my photo with the Guitar. “You’re the unsung hero of Australian pop culture. Please, take one of my Country Music Awards.” “Lee,” I replied, handing back the trophy he’d thrust into my hand. “I appreciate the gesture, but can’t accept this testament to your hard work and talent.” “Aw, go on. I’ve got 37 of the bloody things and the missus said I have to offload a few.”
And that’s how I, Bigs Bardot, ended up with a Country Music Award and a lifetime friendship with Lee Kernaghan. I believe his latest album was inspired by the Big Chook.
Tamworth makes a great bass from which to explore other Big Things, such as Manilla’s Big Fish, so if you can pull a few strings and spend a bit of time out there, you won’t be disappointed! In fact, after spending an afternoon with the legendary Big Golden Guitar, you’ll want to Epiphone your mates to tell them how good it is!
