Oh don’t mind me, I’m just hanging out with my good mate Fiddy Cent. No, not the hip hop luminary, which is a good thing because I don’t need to get into another gang turf war. I’m talking about the Big Coins, who currency live outside the Royal Australian Mint.
The Coins certainly offer bang for your buck, because there are eight of them. The leftmost disc doesn’t count, because it simply signifies the year the Mint was opened – 1965. The rest represent each of Australia’s decimal coins, including the 1c and 2c pieces, which were discontinued in 1992. Hopefully they never change the lineup.
I’m not going to mints my words – the resemblance to the real coins is uncanny. A quick look at the 2c, 20c and $1 coins brings memories of the Big Frilled Neck Lizard, Big Platypus and Big Kangaroo flooding back. You can bank on being impressed!
The mint has produced more than 15 billion coins since opening, and is also a favourite excursion destination for Aussie schoolkids. After watching a thrilling documentary on the history of decimal currency, it’s possible to mint your own $1 coin for the bargain price of $3. Makes cents!
You’ll be drawn to these winged wonders like a moth to a flame! The Big Bogong Moths rest peacefully beside the Australian Institute for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies. Based on a design by indigenous artiste Jim Williams, and crafted by Matthew Harding, they celebrate the history of the local Ngunnawal people.
No, no, no, the Ngunnawal aren’t some sort of human-moth hybrid tribe, they simply revere bogongs – as we all should.
There are six monstrous moths, and the concrete cuties cemented their place in the hearts of Canberrans in 2001.
The Bogongs are best seen from the sky, but with drones banned in the area, I called up my good chum – and self-confessed Big Thing tragic – Scott Morrison, then-Prime Minister of Australia, to see if he could help out.
“Bigs, the preservation and recording of our wonderful Big Things and roadside attractions is the most important issue facing this country,” Scotty told me in a lengthy and, at times, rambling conversation. “There’s a Black Hawk chopper out the back, do you want that?” “Sounds great, Scotty,” I replied. “Just as long as the propellers don’t mess up my hair!” “Anything for you, Bigs. Need a tank?” “Only if those nutters who claim the Big Banana is the oldest Big Thing keep it up!”
“Shouldn’t you be running the country rather than racing around admiring oversized roadside attractions with me?” I asked Scotty as we crawled through the Big Acorns together. “No, shouldn’t you be running the country rather than racing around admiring oversized roadside attractions with me?” Scotty quipped back.
Crumb one, crumb all to see a true work of tart – the Bilpin Apple Pie! The sweet treat rests on the back of an old truck, a few kilometres north of the sleepy township of Bilpin. He’s certainly not a short crust, in fact he’s quite tall!
My encounter with this homemade hottie proved to be a pie-opening experience. The round rascal is certainly odd, and the only Big I know of who drives a vehicle. He’s perfectly placed for a strudel-icious photo – and that’s pudding it mildly.
Honestly, anyone who says nice pies finish last doesn’t know what they’re on about.
Bilpin is famous for its apples, cider, and baked goodies, and is a lovely place to visit when the weather’s pie and warm. On the way through, you’ll also drive pastry the iconic Fruit Bowl. There are plenty of trees around, so Bilpin’s certainly not out in the dessert or anything.
If you prefer the apple without the pie, trot on over to Tallong or Yerrinbool. I’m sure you’ll find them both (red) delicious!
The Cottage Orchard Cafe is right next to the Pie, and the friendly owners serve a range of sweets and savouries to suit any palate. I like my pies stuffed with meat and swimming in tomato sauce, but decided to turnover a new leaf and test the local produce. My verdict? Un-quiche-lievable!
The Bilpin Apple Pie is worth baking the trip out to see, but the question remains; where’s the Big Dollop of Ice Cream to go with him?
He is a sk8er boy Big like the Potato boy He is good enough for me He has a pretty lace Takes up quite a lot of space You need to come down to Penny
Roll out the red carpet, because I rink this colossal clog is wheely exciting! The lone loafer lives atop the entrance to Penrith Skatel, and is a shoe-in to send you head-over-heels in love!
Widely regarded as the Pride of Penrith, the Big Roller Skate’s a ray of sunshine amidst a dingy industrial estate. If you’re looking to live out your Xanadu fantasies whilst having a new muffler installed, here’s your chance! The Skatel has heaps of great feet-ures and is tongues of fun.
The Skatel is economically priced, so even cheapskates can enjoy it. Unfortunately the centre was closed when I visited, however many people were already inline for selfies with the robust Roller.
I considered sneaker-ing over the fence, but feared being arrested and tossed into sole-itary confinement. I really didn’t heel like going through all of that.
If it’s wrong for a 38-year-old man to dress up as a pansy and dance in front of The Big Flower, then I don’t want to be right. What can I say – this daisy is drivin’ me crazy!
As tall as he is handsome, the Big Flower has a kitschy charm and refreshing innocence that’s granted him cult status on the Central Coast. For decades he’s welcomed visitors to to this subtropical paradise. One glance at that big, happy grin is enough to know that all is well in the world.
The plucky perennial smiles happily at drivers along the M1 freeway, so you don’t need to be a palm reader to find him. Simp-tree take the Ourimbah exit and there he is – I’m sure you can fig-ure it out!
After taking some happy snaps, spring into the Big Flower Nursery, which has thousands of flowers set out in neat rose. The staff dafodil-igently water them every day, and it’s quite a cycad-venture to roam through. The prices are quite reasonable, if you’re watching your frangi-pennies.
If you’re after a light ca-meal-ia, the on-site cafe offers a scrumptious selection of sweets. Apparently the scones are gerani-yum!
The Big Flower is not aloe-n on the Central Coast. Ploddy, Frilly, Lizzo and Daryl are just a few minutes drive south. Alan Davidson’s Balls are on the short drive into Gosford, where you’ll find the Big Poppies. They all hope to bank-seeya soon. Or should that be bloom?
I’m not dande-lyin’ when I say I wish the Big Flower was jas-mine!
Wood you like to visit a towering tomahawk and grab a load of quality kindling at the same time? I’ll go out on a limb and take that as a yes, so hatchet a plan to swing by Big Axe Firewood in beautiful Box Hill!
The Axe lives beside busy Windsor Road, ready to welcome anyone lumbering along. He’s behind a fence, so I asked the nice lady in the chop if I could take a few happy snaps. She said yes and didn’t even ask me to stump up cash for the honour!
As you can see, I was dressed pretty sharply for the occasion. Did I cut it as a big, rugged lumberjack in my flannel tunic? Chop chop with your answer, I don’t want to have to axe you again???
The Axe looks fantastic and is almost as large as his twin up north in Kew. His owners obviously love him, because he’s been freshly painted and the yard he’s in is well maintained. I just hope he doesn’t hook up with the Hardware Man and try to lop down the nearby Big Koala‘s tree!
For more information on this massive marvel without having to cleave home, log on to the Big Axe’s website. You could even send him a tree-mail. Don’t worry, there are no hackers on there!
The Big Axe is, quite surprisingly, single. He is, however, hoping to find a girlfriend on the popular dating app Timber.
Yes, I know, I never seem to age, but sadly the same can’t be said about the Big Strawberry. With peeling paint and a wilted stem, she’s one of the most pip-iful Bigs I’ve ever encountered. The strawberry emporium she promotes is closed, and a darkness has descended upon the village of Luddenham.
Honestly, if the Big Strawberry were any gloomier, she’d be a blueberry.
She once had such huge dreams. To appear in the video for Strawberry Kisses, marry the Big Pineapple, and be the first resident of Luddenham to finish high school. Just as I never realised my dreams of starring in Gilmore Girls, the Strawberry was forced to shoot for simpler goals. These days she’s in a poor state and has been dumped by the side of a road in western Sydney.
You may think this would cause a strawberry traffic jam, but no. It seems the good people of the west have forgotten about this fruit. Ex-straw-dinary, I know, but true.
To make matters worse, Koonoomoo’s Big Strawberry – the world’s largest – has gone on to become a darling of the Big Thing world. Even Gordon Shumway, who loves Bigs one and all, had to be coaxed out of the car with the promise of being able to eat a local cat.
I wanted to give the Strawberry a cuddle and tell her everything would be vine, but the height of the structure she’s perched on precluded that. That was the last straw for me!
Luddenites say that at night, when the wind blows softly, they can hear the Big Strawberry weeping. Hopefully her salad days will return.
Without feather ado, I’d like to in-duck-t this oversized owl – and I’m talon you, be prepared to fowl in love! Say hello to Chinute Chinute, who’s so nice they named her twice!
The 1.8-metre-tall avian landed outside the Northern Territory’s Supreme Court in 2010, and is modelled after a Dreamtime spirit who’s watched over the Top End for thousands of years. Aboriginal elder and artist Koolpinyah Barnes cast the blushing bird from bronze, based on a 45cm statue he cre-hoot-ed several years earlier.
“Chinute Chinute is a Larrakia spiritual ancestor who exists within the sacred site known as Stokes Hill adjacent to this walkway,” Koolpinyah told fascinated reporters at the time. “This ancestor manifests itself from time to time as the tawny frogmouth and stands as sentinel to the waterfront area.”
Chinute Chinute is anything but a hid-hen gem, being located a short stroll from the popular Smith Street Mall and the Big Frogs. I suggest spending time with our feathery friend before heading straight to the waterfront for a refreshing dip in the man-made beach, which isn’t just cheep, it’s free!
Darwinians have been doing owl the right things to attract Big Thing fanatics, with Chinute Chinute joining Colin the Turtle and the Giant Jellyfish as a much-loved member of the communi-tree.
These burgundy bud-dies have been bravely garden the entrance to Gosford for a few years now, and have blossomed into the city’s top tourist destination. The nine nice guys stand by the shore of the gorgeous Brisbane Water, and I’m not pollen your leg when I say it’s a bloomin’ beautiful place to spend an afternoon!
Created to commemorate the centenary of the Gallipoli campaign during the First World War, the Poppies were unveiled to an adoring public during the 2015 ANZAC Day ceremony. With 40,000 smaller fabric poppies decorating the grounds of Gosford Rotary Park and hundreds of curious townsfolk in attendance, they really rose to the occasion!
Flower Power
The Poppies rest in what was once a fountain, on a galvanised steel base. The handsome flowers are made from aluminium tubing and flat sheet metal, and are so cute I used my tulips to kiss them!
Sadly the Big Poppies aren’t as fresh as they once were, and are badly in need of some tender budding care. Maybe we convince the caretaker of the Big Sunflowers to help them out? They also no longer light up at night – although they will light up your heart.
I’ve been fortunate enough to visit these towering flowers with my own Poppy, who is a Second World War hero, so they hold special significance to me. These Bigs aren’t just fun, they’re a tribute to the brave men and woman who have fought for our freedom and way of life.
Although they’re overshadowed by the world famous Ploddy the Dinosaur, who lives just up the road, the floral to this story is that you need to put the petal to the metal and visit them!
2B or not 2B, that is the question. And the answer, of course, is not 2B, as the perky Pencil is clearly an HB, the most princely on the graphite grading scale.
Positioned beneath the jaw-droppingly beautiful Nobbys Lighthouse along Newcastle’s eastern beaches, he doubles as a seat from which to enjoy this glorious part of the world. Despite what you may think, the area’s not sketchy at all!
And don’t worry, this scribbly sensation won’t be going anywhere, because he’s stationary. Now that’s worth writing home about!
I’ve been lead to believe the Big Headphones and Ossie the Mossie are nearby, but what about a Big Sharpener? I’d hate for this crazy crayon to get blunt!
Time to pencil in a visit to Newie, Big Thing lovers!
For more than a decade, the far-flung village of Narrandera was the centre of the Big Thing universe. As home to the World’s Largest Playable Guitar – a 5.82m-long acoustic axe that fascinated music lovers and Thing-o-philes alike – the region’s economy boomed. Then the unthinkable happened, and it all came crashing down. This is the story of how the music almost died.
Looking to promote the Country Music Club of Narrandera, local guitar guru Robert Palmer (who may or may not be the Simply Irresistible dude) spent more than 300 hours carefully crafting the bodacious banjo, before presenting it to the public in 1988. Headbangers, country bumpkins and wannabe rock gods put aside their differences as they teamed up to play the fully-functional fiddle, which is so big it requires a small team of musicians to play it.
When the Guitar was listed in the 1991 edition of the Guinness Book of Records, the town’s pubs were drunk dry in celebration. Tourism reached record highs and every road led to Narrandera. There was even talk of building an international airport with direct flights from Shanghai and Wagga Wagga to cope with the sightseers. The owners of the other Big Guitar could only look on with envious eyes.
But, as pop legend Bob Dylan once warbled, “The times, they are a-changin’”, and darkness descended upon Narrandera in 2000. And I’m not talking about Y2K, although many locals did unplug their toasters as a preventative measure against them gaining sentience and chasing them around the kitchen.
Don’t mess with Texas
Proving that everything is indeed bigger in Texas, a bunch of rowdy students from the Academy of Science and Technology in Conroe built an immense, 13.3-metre-long playable guitar and cruelly snatched the record. Conroe got the tourists. Conroe got the fame. Sadly, Conroe even got the international airport with direct flights from Shanghai and Wagga Wagga.
The unveiling of the Big Tennis Racquet in nearby Barellan was a further humiliation for the townsfolk, who were often the subject of cruel taunts from their northern neighbours. Not surprisingly, they soon reached break point.
The people of Narrandera were left with nothing but the shirts on their backs (which were, shockingly, emblazoned with the words ‘World’s Largest Playable Guitar’ and thus rendered unfashionable). The town never fully recovered from the tragedy, and when I visited a palpable atmosphere of depression and defeat engulfed Narrandera like a thick fog. I struggled to locate the huge ukelele, because locals burst into tears when I asked about it.
Yesterday’s guitar hero
After discovering the Guitar had been sequestered away to the Narrandera Visitor Information Centre, I trotted inside and was led out the back by a very pleasant volunteer. The Guitar didn’t string me along, and we shared a chord-ial greeting. He may be the second-biggest playable guitar, but, with his handsome plywood body and carefully-painted details, he’s number one in my heart!
I plucked up the courage to play with him and, with the assistance of a rambunctious local granny, banged out a rousing rendition of Old Time Rock and Roll. As we segued seamlessly into The Crocodile Rock, local shopkeepers and students swept in through the front doors, surprised but delighted to hear the Guitar playing once again. Narranderans jived and gyrated as our playing became wilder, and the gloom that had consumed the town lifted.
With sweat pouring down my face and the final echoes of my hour-long interpretation of Stairway to Heaven fading in the twilight, I felt a firm but friendly hand on my shoulder. Turning, I was met by an impish man in a broad, black hat – my good mate, roadside attraction-loving country music legend Lee Kernaghan. We embraced in front of the Big Playable Guitar as our admirers cheered us on.
Lee, me, and the Guitar make three!
“We need to stop cuddling in front of Big Guitars,” I beamed when we finally came up for air.
“Bigs,” Lee Kernaghan rasped, with tears in his eyes. “Look at what you’ve done! You’ve brought life and love back to Narrandera. You’ve saved the bloody town, mate.”
“Firstly, Lee Kernaghan, I don’t care for your colourful language,” I snapped. “You’re a talented songwriter who can surely find more appropriate ways to express yourself. And anyway, the Big Playable Guitar is the true hero of this story. I’m just a vagabond with a heart of gold, travelling the land to cast light upon the trials and tribulations of our beautiful Bigs.”
“My apologies, Bigs. You’re right as always. Do you want some more of these Country Music Awards? I won another eight this year and they’re just piling up. I’ve been using them to tip waiters.”
And so, with a song once more in the heart of every Narranderan, Lee Kernaghan and I climbed atop my scooter and burnt out in the endless night. With our smiles cutting through the darkness and only the stars to guide us, we chased our next Big adventure.
You don’t need to leave the Land of the Bigs to have a memorable encounter in the African wilderness. Just pop over to the Botanic Gardens in sunny Darwin, where a monstrous metallic maneater meanders through the Madagascan-modelled meadows. Mmmmm… marvellous!
Surrounded by breathtaking baobabs and bubbling brooks, Gorgeous George delights with his size and looks. The 10-metre-long lizard was cast from steel by local legend Techy Masero, the artiste responsible for Colin the Turtle and the Big Barra, under the watchful eye of world-famous wildlife wizard Tommy Nichols. It truly does take a village to raise a colossal crocodilian.
After five wonderful years of hard work, George was dipped in a vat of zinc (in a scene I can only assume was reminiscent of the ending of Terminator 2: Judgment Day) and hauled off to his forever home in April 2020. I’ll go out on a limb and say nobody leaves the Gardens jabbering on about the heliconias and orchids anymore – although they are delightful.
Always smile at this crocodile!
I’ve had encounters with the most beautiful Bigs ever made, but was reduced to a blubbering mess upon meeting George, so beautiful was he. Thousands of hours went into his intricately-detailed features, and it certainly shows. I was particularly impressed by the oversized barramundi he has tucked between his titillating teeth. Fortunately George didn’t snatch the Wanguri or Katherine barras for his lunch!
As I struggled to catch my breath, a couple of the Gardens’ friendly horticulturists assisted me to a bench beneath a nearby weeping willow, where I was able to regain my composure before resuming my date with George. He lives in a quiet patch of the park, beneath a huge tree, but of course he attracts a lot of attention. Move over George Clooney and Boy George, we have a bigger celebrity here!
I strongly urge visitors not to climb upon Bigs they don’t have a strong and trusting relationship with – it’s a hate crime as far as I’m concerned – but George made it clear to me that he’s open to being mounted, so I made the most of the opportunity. Despite hardly being a ‘waxhead’, I a surf on George’s handsome head. Hang 10-metre-long crocodile, dudes!
There’s no doubt about it, George is a real croc star!
A word of warning, this Big is a real gold digger!
Tall, dark and handsome, the Big Gold Panner Man sauntered into the historic inland city of Bathurst in 1979, taking up residence outside the lavish Gold Panner Motor Inn. He welcomes millions of visitors from Sydney each year, many of whom can barely pan-dle their excitement.
Not surprisingly, he’s become by far the most famous and celebrated thing about this bustling Gold Rush town, edging out the extraordinary Town Square and the fascinating Fossil and Mineral Museum.
But wait, there’s more! Big Thing lovers can actually tick two landmarks off their bucket list in one go, because the World’s Biggest Beard is also on display here!
That hasn’t helped him find gold, though, and after 42 years he’s yet to strike it lucky. But he has found the love and admiration of a nation, which is far more valuable than a precious yellow mineral.
Despite bending over to work with his impressively-realised mining equipment, the Big Gold Panner Man measures five metres from the bottom of his sturdy shoes to the top of his trendy hat. This makes him the second-tallest human Big in Australia after The King of Atlantis.
As one of the kindest and most respectful characters in the Land of the Bigs, this major miner proves all that glitters is gold – and there’s more than a nugget of truth to that!
Slip an extra Gordon on the barbie!
There was a brief moment of unpleasantness during my date with the Gold Panner, when he scooped Gordon into his skillet and threatened to fry him up for dinner. I know what you’re thinking – two big, tough, macho men marking their turf.
But, really, it was all Gordon’s fault. He was behaving in an antagonistic manner towards the Gold Panner and said his hat looked effeminate, so he had it coming.
Fortunately the kind-hearted giant let his much smaller rival get away, shaken but not stirred. You might not be so lucky next time, Gordon!
Some think he looks more like a Poo-tato than a Potato, but I reckon he’s a real spud-muffin! The 10-metre-wide, four-metre-tall Big Potato was carefully crafted in 1977 by local farmer Jim Mauger, and stands in starch contrast to the rural village of Robertson that houses him.
Modelled after the delicious Sebago variety of spud, the beguiling Big Potato was designed to house a vegetable museum that, tragically, never eventu-tatered. Wipe away those tears because there are plenty of takeaway shops in town, so you’ll be able to find some potato scallops to study!
The best place to gobble your lunch is right next to the Big Potato, because his admirers recently chipped in to landscape the park he lives in, and he’s now wedged between some delightful picnic tables. It’s particularly fun to watch the endless stream of spec-taters stopping by for selfies!
Right next door is the ravishing Robertson Supermarket, which offers a wide range of Big Potato magnets, stickers and tea towels. I bought a scrumptious Spud t-shirt that I wear several times a week – we’re a mash made in heaven!
He’s for sale… and cheap as chips!
If this is spud at first sight, I have some wonderful news – The Big Potato can be yours for the bargain price of $920,000. That’s right, his current owners, Heather and Neil Tait (yes, that’s their real names! If only everyone in possession of a Big was forced to have a related name!) are looking to bake someone’s day by sending this potato to the market.
Imagine living inside a giant potato – wouldn’t it be a lux-tuber-ous existence! You’d also be perfectly positioned to make regular day trips to Yerrinbool’s amazing Apple, because it’s a short drive away.
Astonishingly the Big Potato isn’t heritage listed, therefore it could be demolished by a cold-hearted developer. So come on, Big Thing fanatics, let’s pool our money and buy. I therefore raise my hand to be the care-tater.
Hear ye, hear ye! ‘Tis I, Sir Bigs-a-Lot of Kingdom Bardot, and I doth welcome thee to a time when fearless warriors and ferocious dragons roamed the landscape of northern New South Wales. Please pop on ye olde face mask, as ’tis a spot of bubonic plague around – tee hee!
Just kidding, I’m really your friend Bigs Bardot, and it’s knights for you to join me as I share some kind swords regarding this 6.5-metre nobleman. The Big Knight’s been protecting the good folk of the Macadamia Castle since 1985 and, despite looking a bit scary at first lance, is one of the most pleasant fellows I’ve ever hel-met.
Indeed, you won’t find armour wonderful chap!
A quick note: The Big Knight was, shamefully, removed in early-2023. He has been purchased by the friendly folk at the Coffs Harbour Butterfly House, and I’ll let you all know when he’s been installed. The crux of this entry has been left unchanged, to allow us all to step back to a simpler, more whimsical time. Namaste.
Lord of the Sword
The Knight, as he’s officially known, is the creation of local botanist Ken McDonald, who long ran a plant stand at the castle and dreamed of selling more seeds to tourists. He set to work designing a dapper dude of enormous proportions, basing him on a suit of armour on display in the castle.
“I just measured everything and drew it up, then multiplied it by three,” Ken explained in the official history of the castle. “First thing I did was build a big rotating spit, just like you’d use to cook a pig. That way I could build the Knight’s frame onto it and rotate it around as I applied the fibreglass.”
Ken used steel pipes for the frame and flat steel strips for the Knight’s robust body. He had a little trouble balancing himself (the Knight, that is, not Ken), so the sword and lance were reinforced to keep him upright.
Lennox Head luminary and surfboard shaping superstar Bob McTavish was tasked with applying the intricate fibreglass details to the Knight – and was forced to come up with some creative solutions to complete the job.
“For the head, we went shopping in Ballina to find just the right sized beach ball, inflated it and coated it with resin,” jabbered Bob. “When it set, we deflated it and kept on adding more and more layers for strength.”
Boogie Knights
After three months of tireless work, the 6.5-metre-tall gentleman was unveiled to a delighted public. He was originally adorned with white armour and a red cross, which were added by local artist Mark Waller.
“It was supposed to be St George, you see,” Ken declared, “and I’ve always had this dream of building a dragon to lie down at his feet.”
It’ll be a maca-damn-ia shame if that doesn’t happen!
The Knight’s home has been through a number of owners and names over the years, and these days the Macadamia Castle is definitely worth taking a pecan at, with putt-putt golf, a small zoo, a salubrious cafe and sprawling shopping options. I enjoyed dropping my tough guy facade for a few moments to show off my inner Maid Marian in the gift shop. A Round Table discussion decided I looked delightful!
Those on a road trip along that NSW North Coast are often left ponder whether the Big Knight could defeat the nearby Big Prawn in a battle but honestly, our beautiful Bigs are peaceful beings, so you’d have to be medi-evil to contemplate that!
A Hard Day’s Knight
The Knight’s debonair swagger and pensive masculinity, though inspirational, have not been enough to stave off the threat of image-obsessed millennials. The new owners of the Castle – who have transformed it into some sort of petting zoo – saw little value in his history, bravery and importance to the community, and so tore him down in early 2023.
A hero to millions and an integral thread in the fabric of Knockrow, he was knocked down in the name of progress. The Knight’s muscular legs were smashed to bits, and he was dragged through the dirt like a filthy commoner. The good people of Knockrow wept as one. They’d lost their inspiration. Many turned to narcotics to fill the void.
Thankfully, they are willing to sell what’s left of The Big Knight to the highest bidder. Not wanting to be gazumped, I put in an offer of $1.2 million to purchase the shiny hunk, hoping he’d spearhead my grandiose plans for a sprawling medieval-themed gentlemens club up the road in Binna Burra.
Sadly it seems my cheque was lost in the mail, because he was snapped up by the happy chappies at the Coffs Harbour Butterfly House. Ah well, maybe I’ll buy the Big Banana instead!
As a passionate supporter of the LGBTQI+ community, it’s my pleasure to introduce Australia’s very first transgender Big – the voluptuous Wo-Man! Xe is loud and proud and shimmers like a disco ball, bedazzling all who venture into the backwoods of Wollombi.
This remote location is a surprising home for such a progressive Big, who’s happy to show off xis ample bosom and metallic member for anyone to see. Xe has legs for days and is the true monarch of the forest, so if you think I sound jealous, I am!
An abandoned service station, rotting furniture and desolate fields make for a lonely yet unique home for Wo-Man, and there’s even a rusting yacht on site, despite being hours from the coast. It’s like a scene from a bloodthirsty horror movie, with Wo-Man playing the part of the buxom beauty!
Beauty and the Beast
There’s trouble in paradise, however, and I must issue a serious warning to those planning to visit Wo-Man, as xis owner is a real oddball and not particularly welcoming of those who stop for a photo. In an unprovoked and hyper-aggressive display of male fragility, I was verbally and emotionally abused by the heavily-bearded tough guy as he grilled some sausages, leaving a group of disgusted customers gaping in disbelief. As the vicious words crashed down upon me, I sensed Wo-Man shuddering.
I would’ve thought someone who built a four-metre-tall trans friend to keep himself company in remote bushland would be more open-minded. Then again, if I owned a Big Thing – especially one as alluring as Wo-Man – I’d probably be a tad possessive, too!
My suggestion is to pull up, say a quick hello to Wo-Man as you snap a selfie, then drive off before the hate speech starts flying. Hopefully this gentleman’s sausage sizzling skills are better than his social abilities, because he certainly left a sour taste in my mouth!
My heart weeps to think of Wo-Man being trapped in such a toxic environment, but it’s not my place to get involved. Not just because xe is big enough to fend for xirself, but because xe simply wouldn’t fit on the back of my scooter. Hopefully one day xe’ll meet someone who treats xem the way xe deserves – maybe the hardworking Big Gold Panner, the brave Big Knight, the bashful Coota Giant, or even Matilda. Until then shine on, you crazy diamond!
Serving as a monument to Wimbledon champion and Barellan local Evonne Goolagong Cawley, the 13.8-metre-tall Big Tennis Racquet is a real grand slam and I’m sure you’ll love (it) all!
Locals were courting the idea of a towering tribute to their tennis treasure for years, and made such a racquet that they netted themselves a Big! This wonderfully-realised statue was unveiled in October 2009 during Barellan’s Centenary celebrations, and is a 20:1 scale replica of Vonnie’s famed wooden signature Dunlop racquet.
‘The Sunshine Supergirl’ won 14 majors to become one of the greatest tennis players of all time but could never hold this supersized sports equipment because she is, ironically, quite a diminutive lass. Yes, that was a backhanded compliment!
Along with a handsome 1.25-metre-wide tennis ball (take note, whoever is responsible for Westbury’s Big Wickets) the Big Tennis Racquet forms a Doubles Team even the Woodies would be envious of. He lives by the side of Barellan‘s sleepy main street, so you won’t be strung along trying to find him. Sorry, it was my fault for that bad joke!
If, like me, you have three left feet and are drawn more to the arts than sports, the Big Playable Guitar is just down the road at Narrandera – rock on!
The only small annoyance is that some silly goose planted a decorative bush in baseline-of-sight of this Big, making photos slightly more difficult than they should be. Hopefully they twig to this issue and remove the shrub beforehand it causes further problems.
Take advantage of the Barellan hospitality, because you’ll have a ball visiting the Big Tennis Racquet. My rating? Ten out of Tennis!
You might think it’s silly, but I’m in love with a man who’s frilly! For a frill-a-minute encounter with a cold-blooded cutie, head to spectacular Somersby on the scenic Central Coast. Honestly, you’ll be reptiling from ear to ear when you meet this gigantic frilled-neck lizard… but a word of warning, he has a fiery side to him!
Frilly was painstakingly constructed by the geniuses at Natureworks in 1997, and found a home at the Australian Reptile Park shortly after its relocation from Wyoming. Along with the matriarch of Aussie Big Things, Ploddy the Dinosaur, he lured thousands of visitors to the region, and it was all smiles and crocodiles. Then tragedy struck.
In the dead of winter, July 17, 2000 – a date no lover of Bigs will ever forget – a ruthless fire ripped through the park, leaving a trail of terror in its wake. A nation celebrated as one when Frilly and Ploddy, the indestructible lizards of Oz, stepped through the hellfire to become beacons of hope for a mourning community.
There must be something in the water that makes this region’s Bigs imperishable, because the Big Prawn also survived a barbecue attempt. Hopefully Alan Davidson’s Balls and the Big Poppies won’t be next in the firing line!
Heartbreakingly, hundreds of innocent critters didn’t make it, with only a pig-nosed turtle named Miss Piggy and an alligator snapping turtle named The Terminator surviving. But it was the park’s owners saying, “I’ll be back!”
They scrambled to rebuild the Aussie Reptile Park, placing Frilly proudly atop at the entrance to welcome visitors. He was soon joined by the dashing Daryl Somersby and the sultry Lizzo to create a true mecca for Big Thing aficionados. With so many large-scale lizards on display, when are goanna visit?
Everybody’s heard about this bird, which isn’t surprising because Stanley’s 18 metres tall and one of the nest-looking Big Things around. Yes, he’s aviary nice chap indeed!
The elegant emu was lovingly crafted by local artist John Murray out of old VW Beetle bonnets and doors, then placed atop a stunning steel girder. This gem took up residence on the outskirts of the opal-mining village of Lightning Ridge in 2013, but he was o-Ridge-inally destined, quite appropriately, for Birdsville.
“The tyranny of distance made it too expensive to truck him into Queensland,” Senhor Murray told a gobsmacked journalist from the Sydney Morning Herald.
“The bloke in Birdsville wanted to call him Big Bird and put him out on the Birdsville Track in XXXX colours. I wasn’t too keen on painting my bird yellow and red, but even less enamoured about having my work used to promote beer. So the Ridge got him.”
Oh, what flight have been!
The best news is there could soon be more Bigs feather down the road… and I’m not talking about Murray the Cod. Walgett Council is holding a competition to encourage farmers to build their own roadside attractions, with the wing-er to receive $10,000. They might have to change the name from Lightning Ridge to Big Thing Ridge!
She’s a sexy humpback Them other Bigs don’t know how to act I think she’s special, what a large humpback! Go visit Nala and don’t forget a snack
Have a whale of a time and a blowhole lot of fun with Nala, the 22-tonne pride of Hervey Bay! The town is one of the best places on Earth for whale watching, but now you don’t need to risk a bout of sea sickness to admire a massive mammal.
Nala was introduced to the communi-sea in 2012 to much finfare, with hundreds of whale-wishers blubbering with delight at her grand un-whaling. She’s a heartfelt tribute to her namesake, a much-loved whale who’s visited the region every year since 1992.
The big bopper has to be marine to be believed, and wouldn’t look out of place at the Louvre or Guggenheim museums – if she’d fit! Just look at those intricate wooden details and all that shiny metal! I almost felt like I should’ve worn a tuxedo for our date!
Ross Bradbury built the 11.5 metre-long, 8.3 metre-tall leviathan out of ironbark timber and stainless steel, and reckons he spent more than 250 hours on the carving alone. He’s also the virtuoso behind Nala’s son Nolan, a smaller whale who lives at the neighbouring WetSide Water Park.
“I feel really lucky to be a part of it,” Ross whaled to a bemused journo from the Courier Whale… oh, sorry, the Courier Mail.
If you’re planning to get spout-and-about, the good news is you don’t have to pay to see Nala – that’s right, a visit is free, Willy!
Many thanks to local fisherman and lifelong Big Thing admirerDickie Ham, who acted as my tour guide. He’s a perfect gentleman and quite the twinkle toes. Who would’ve though Hervey Bay would have such a vibrant salsa scene?
He’s absolutely mango-nificent, but this tropical treat has flirted with scandal to become one of the most controversial Bigs around. The Big Mango, who lives beside the Visitor Information Centre, stands a regal 10 metres tall and was erected in 2002 as a tribute to Bowen’s ebullient agricultural industry.
He cost $90,000, weighs in at seven tonnes, and is modelled after the delicious Kensington Pride variety of mangoes. Yum, yum, yum – he’s just fruit-iful! So how did it mango so wrong?
It was a case of Bowen, goin’ gone when the Mango mysteriously disappeared one dreary day in February 2014. Horrified locals woke up with a mango-sized hole in their hearts amid reports a group of spiteful hooligans had loaded the Mango onto a truck during the night. The story hit the headlines around the world, search parties were formed, and a nation sat silently by their telephones, mouths agape, praying for good news.
Where did he man-go?
Was it Al-Quaeda, intent on toppling the West by Big-napping all our wonderful roadside attractions? Or maybe diehard fans of the Big Watermelon, whipped into a fury due to their martyr being overshadowed by a newer and hipper Big? Or perhaps the Big Pineapple, Big Banana and Big Strawberry would be next, to create an even larger Big Fruit Bowl?
But a few things didn’t add up. Firstly, pinching a house-sized fiberglass mango is a little harder than swiping a fistful of grapes from Bowen Woolworths (which isn’t difficult at all, to be honest). Secondly, the Information Centre failed to report the theft to police, instead going straight to the media. And then there were the sightings of enormous mangoes around the country, including one in the main street of Melbourne, some 2,500km away. What was mangoing on?
When the Big Mango was discovered by astonished locals in a field out the back of Bowen, covered by palm fronds, the game was up and the story began to unravel.
The nightmare unravels
“There’s an old road that leads up into the scrub from the back of the information centre,” appalled Mango devotee ‘Bob’ told ABC Radio. “What they’ve done is put it on a truck and taken it up there and laid it on its side in the bush, and they’ve covered it up with tree branches and shade cloths so nobody can see it. It’s a pretty hard thing to hide.”
As Big-thusiasts from across the globe descended upon North Queensland hold a vigil by the globular giant’s side, Portuguese chicken ‘restaurant’ Nando’s came forward and took responsibility for the sickening stunt. Apparently it was all to promote a new mango chutney or something, but who cares, I’ll never step foot in one of their slop shacks after this ghastly deed. Some blame also rests on the local council because it takes two to mango.
“The disappearance of Bowen’s Big Mango has generated quite a lot of attention over the last day or so and we confess… Nando’s was behind moving the three-storey high, ten tonne tourist attraction,” a deranged media release, obviously penned by a lunatic, said. “Nando’s would like to thank the people of Bowen for being good sports about us ‘borrowing’ their beautiful mango.” I’ve read more charming ransom letters.
Such exploitation of a beautiful Big is completely unacceptable, and for the past seven years I’ve campaigned for all involved with Nando’s – from the owner of the company to the bloke who takes out the garbage – to be jailed for crimes against huge-anity.
Things are Bowen to get better
But, thankfully, some good has come from this nightmare. A slightly smaller, six-metre-tall replica of the Mango was shipped around Australia for publicity purposes, before being donated to the good people of Bowen. Small compensation for the trauma they suffered, yes, but it makes a great memorial to these tragic events.
As I was admiring the marvellous mango, I encountered a handsome young gentleman named António who initially enthralled me with his good looks and jocular personality. I was, however, disgusted when he started taking some racy photos with Bowen’s Finest. My patience reached its limit when I discovered he was Portuguese, and almost certainly planning a second coup against this Australian icon.
I trotted straight down to the nearest pub and alerted a few local tough guys as to what was going on, and they wasted no time delivering a severe beating to the perverted playboy. I don’t regret what I did for one minute.
Today the Big Mango sits peacefully in the sun, reflecting on his wild ride and enjoying his infamy. Hopefully they have a full-time security guard watching him, because another kidnapping could make a mango crazy!
For an unforgetta-bull experience, head to Rocky, where you’ll find multi-bull bulky bovines on display. All six Big Bulls have moo-vie star good looks and would love to meat you, so it’d be a mi-steak to miss them!
The first two Bulls – a Braford by the Bruce Highway and a Brahman located on the main median strip in town – were con-chuck-ted in 1978 as a way to beef up tourism. They were designed by Hugh Granderson… sorry, Anderson, the legend behind the Big Cow, and the townsfolk were very shankful to have them.
Udder-standably they proved so irresisti-bull that they were joined by a Santa Gertrudis in Frank Ford Park in 1985, and a Droughtmaster at the entrance to the airport in 1994. Rookie error, Rocky Council – if there’s a Big Thing by the airport, people will never want to leave!
Public demand saw the Fab Four joined by a Romangnola, located in O’Shannesy Park, in 1997, and another Brahman – known as Forrest Rump – swaggered into Rockhampton in 2000 and set up camp at the roundabout on the southern entrance to the city. It sounds like a cock-and-bull story, but it’s true!
Although they seem like typically ‘ocker’ fellas, the boys do, in fact, have an American cousin. Chromey, a bison of epic proportions, lives in Colorado. Say buff-hello to him if you’re nearby.
I had plenty of fun exploring the sultry city of Rocky, which straddles the Tropic of Capri-horn, seeking out the Big Bulls. Sure, they’re not enormous, but they’re all very handsome and their sheer number makes them a must-see. But I guess you’ve already herd that!
Please leave their balls alone!
Unfortunately they also attract the dregs of society, with local troublemakers finding amusement in stealing the Bulls’ bulbous balls. This behaviour is reprehensi-bull, but we can console ourselves with the knowledge these ruffians will probably spend the rest of their lives in prison where there are few, if any, Big Things.
It was my displeasure to meet one of these deranged imbeciles in the form of a Portuguese backpacker named António. Whilst seemingly gorgeous and charming at first glance, this pervert showed his true colours by stripping off in front of the Bulls and gyrating provocatively for photos. Dispica-bull!
Thankfully a hurried call the the local consta-bull-ary saw António deported for his outrageous display of disrespect, and he’s Portugal’s problem now. I’ve spoken with Australian Immigration Minister and Big Thing sympathiser Alex Hawke at length about the situation, and he has assured me that António’s been banned from Australia for-heifer.
Sorry to turn this into the punning of the bulls with all these terri-bull jokes!
“Bigs,” I’m sure you’re screaming, “the Big Rig – despite standing 140 metres tall and being an icon of the Maranoa Region – isn’t a Big Thing at all! He’s an actual oil drilling rig from the 1960s who was relocated to the centre of Roma in 2000 to attract tourists. If you’re going to include him, you might as well open the flood gates and induct large trucks, jumbo jets, wide-screen TVs and basketball players. Where does it stop, Bigs, where does it stop?”
I share your concern and trust me, writing this entry was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I’ve taken to the streets to protest claims the Big Banana is the oldest of the Bigs and waged bloody battles against those who won’t accept that the Big Bogan nothing more than a billboard due to being two-dimensional. He’s a sign, deal with it.
Though not proud of it, I was arrested after an online discussion regarding Singleton’s Big Sundial turned nasty. Sundials can be any size, so a particularly large one isn’t a Big! But the Big Rig’s different.
Unless you’ve clasped a Romanian farmer in your arms, his eyes welling with tears as he sobs that the Big Rig was the only thing that kept him going through years of drought; Until you’ve held the hand of a grandmother who only gets out of bed in the morning for the chance to worship the Big Rig; you don’t know how much this Big Thing means to the people of Roma. And I can’t take this away from them.
And I guess the statue of major miner John Machado is pretty large.
Rig-iculously large
So important is the Big Rig to this proud outback community that they’re currently spending a couple of million dollars to add an observation tower to the surrounding complex. It’ll offer sweeping views of the Big Rig, mining museum, the sweeping new tree walk exhibit… and the sunkissed desert as well, I assume.
If they build it big enough, you might even be able to see the Big Melon and the Big Sunflowers. It’ll be a drill-a-minute experience!
Yes, this might come as a shock, but some things are more important than the strict guidelines regarding what does and does not constitute a Big Thing. Roma’s Big Rig, by entrenching himself as the beating heart of this rural community, has earned his place in the pantheon of oversized roadside attractions. He’s Big. He’s beautiful. He’s a Thing.
Have a bowl, have a bat. Howzat! Howzat! Add eight Bigs to your score – all balls!
Alright, alright, settle down! You’ve had a good giggle at the name of these Bigs, now it’s time to take an in-depth look at Alan Davidson’s Balls. Oi, I said quit it!
There are seven oversized cricket balls dotted around the picturesque Alan Davidson Oval, each emblazoned with a ‘Davo Fact’ such as how many home runs the eponymous cricket superstar hit. It’s certainly fun to wander around the grounds, occasionally spotting a big, shiny ball peeking shyly through the bushes.
The world was exposed to Alan Davidson’s Balls in 2015, when artist Margrete Erling – who also delivered the nearby Big Poppies – threw them into the scrum. And as you can see, they look as pretty as a pitcher. At 80cm, these aren’t the largest balls I’ve encountered, but size isn’t everything. It’s all about the texture, the shape, and how much fun they are to sit on. Oh, grow up!
They’ll bowl you over!
There’s also a set of Big Stumps, but they pale in comparison to Westbury’s version and look like a bunch of rotting telegraph poles. Whilst I’m being a bit catty, the build quality of the Balls is atrocious and they’re falling apart. I assumed they were several decades old, and was appalled when I discovered they’re some of the youngest Bigs in Australia. Thanks, former mayor of Gosford Lawrie McKinna!
For the tough guys, a lone Big Soccer Ball is also on display, and I made the most of it by turning up for my photo shoot in a festive sporting tunic. Look at me, all dressed up as a brawny footballer! Grrr, I’m Toni Lockett, run at me, bro! Actually, don’t run at me as I’m not one for physical activity or severe beatings.
For those alpha males with a softer side, the Big Flower is only minutes away. You don’t have to be a pansy to visit!
These balls really score a strike and, needless to say, I had a great time climbing all over Alan Davidson’s Balls. Ok, ok laugh it up, you big baby! Honestly, sometimes I don’t know why I bother.
Let me take you down ‘Cause I’m going to Big Strawberry Fields The size is real And something to be amazed about Big Strawberry Fields forever
Bright red and bursting with life, the Big Strawberry looks delicious enough to gobble up with a dollop of cream. But this blushing beauty is actually an unstoppable tough guy, having defeated a crazed cyclone in 2013.
The turbulent tempest tore through Koonoomoo with unabashed enthusiasm, destroying four homes and shattering 12 others. A camper van was tossed 40 metres onto its roof, and the village was left looking like a cantankerous toddler’s bedroom. But the brawny Strawberry, long a source of inspiration for the townsfolk, stood tall against the wild winds.
When survivors emerged, cowering, from the rubble, they saw their beloved Strawberry standing proudly in the gathering sunlight. Everything will be alright, he seemed to say, and the rebuilding process began. Since that day, not a single deranged downpour has dared darken the doorways of Koonoomoo.
The cardinal cutie is one of the most straw-some Bigs the world has ever known. He’s shiny, delightfully textured, and very accessible. Fans can get up close and personal for a memorable and life-affirming photograph with the striking strawberry, and there’s even a deliciously retro sign with a hole to pop your happy little face through for the perfect holiday snap.
Something new for Koonamoo
The juicy giant started life in 2004, when Michael and Lorraine Hayes (along with their son Darren, the current owner) witnessed the popularity of the nearby Big Murray Cod and Big Cherry and decided to get in on the oversized action.
It was a community effort to raise the six-metre-tall, five-metre-wide icon, with Cobram Plumbing bringing the steel frame and local workers preparing the mesh. The oar-some blokes from Competition Kayaks put up the fiberglass, before Barry Dickson from Barry Dickson Paint and Panel went to town with his brushes.
Oh, and the scrumptious colour? Monza red, because Darren loves his Ford cars. I guess Fords are red, but I wouldn’t have a clue, I ride a scooter. I’ll paint my Big bright pink if Mum ever overcomes her aversion to having a ten-metre-tall concrete hamster in the front yard.
The adjacent store boasts Big Strawberry t-shirts, magnets and socks, along with a wide selection of chutneys and relishes. Slather some melon and pineapple marmalade on a chunk of home-baked damper and thank me afterwards.
Koonoomoo’s Big Strawberry really is one in vermilion. Even the Luddenham version doesn’t come close. I’d love to spend all day writing love ballads about this ruby rascal but honestly, I’m clutching at strawberries here.
Wine me, dine me, 21-foot-nine me! No visit to New South Wales’ Wine Country is complete without sharing a cheeky glass of red with this vine fellow, who’s been baffling drunkards since 1998.
The Big Wine Bottle takes pride of place at the sprawling Hunter Valley Gardens, which offers an array of restaurants and gift shops against a backdrop of rolling fields. A visit is a grape opportunity to eat your body weight in cheese and have a blood alcohol level higher than your age by 11am.
The Bottle’s bulbous bottom has space for an open fire – perfect for those chilly winter nights – with the neck forming a charming chimney. He’s located in the shade of a pleasant tree and, like the similarly-sized Big Bundy Rum Bottle, it’s no cham-pain to grab a photo, so wine not see him today?
If you’re on a winery tour of Big Things, pop over to Rutherglen to drink in the delights of their 36-metre-tall bottle! Oh, and you’ll need a Big Corkscrew, which you can find in Berrima!
I visited the Pokolbin Wine Bottle during a chum’s Hen’s Night, and unfortunately overindulged on Tyrrell’s Pinot noir and chocolate macarons. I ended up bursting into tears and wailing about how I’ll never find a giant roadside attraction who’ll love me for me, and a sémillon other silly things. Thankfully, when I woke up the next morning, the world looked a little more rosé.
I told that joke to the Big Wine Bottle, but he just gave me a sauvignon blanc stare.
Never smile at Daryl the Crocodile No, don’t get friendly with Daryl the Crocodile Don’t be taken in by his games and lark Or the fact he lives at the Aussie Reptile Park
Never smile at Daryl the Crocodile Never kiss his handsome head and stop to talk awhile Never listen to his hopes and dreams Of gobbling up six football teams
You may very well lose your body Just up the road from Frilly and Ploddy But there’s always a special time and place To look at that rugged, whimsical face And say, “I don’t care if he eats me, we just have to kiss!” Daryl’s one Big that you just can’t miss!
You can’t pan-dle the truth! Actually, you probably can, because it’s an indisputable fact that the Big Gold Pick and Pan are ri-pick-ulously magnificent! The cheerful chums were built by another legendary pair – Peter Mason and Tony Durham – under the supervision of the Grenfell Men’s Shed, in recognition of Grenfell’s history as a gold town.
But first, a confession. When I was told about the Big Gold Pick and Pan several years ago, I misheard and believed the attraction to be the Big Gold Peter Pan. As a boy who refuses to grow up, I understandably made it my life’s ambition to meet my hero. Imagine my surprise when I turned up in Grenfell, resplendent in my green tights and felt hat, only to be met by a set of oversized gold mining implements!
The ten-foot tools were up against it from the outset, but I’m happy to say they briskly dug their way into my heart. Yes, it might sound like I’m pan-dering to them and pick-ing favourites, but along with the Big Axe they’re the most glorious utensils I’ve ever met. I think even the Big Gold Panner would approve!
A Bunch of Tools
Despite the simple nature of the subjects (don’t tell them I said that!), the Pick and Pan are easy to take a photo with and easily accessible in the middle of vibrant Grenfell. In fact, they’re the centrepiece of a community-funded campsite, so it’s possible to sleep right next to them!
As a keen camper I was never going to miss that opportunity, and shared a cheeky glass of Pinot noir with the Bigs as a stunning sunset painted Grenfell colours I can’t even describe. I turned in early, content with my day’s adventuring, but a funny thing happened during the night. Being so close to my friends, I could feel their presence and hear them calling to me – just as Ploddy has throughout my life.
I visited them several times beneath the light of a silvery moon, until I eventually decided that resisting their siren song was futile. The Pick and Pan wanted a sleepover, so I grabbed my handsome wearable sleeping bag and snuggled in for the night. We gossiped, we sang pop songs, we opened up with secrets we’d never told anyone else.
I can honestly say I’ve never had a more peaceful sleep. Come the morning, as the birds sand to awaken the people of Grenfell, I enjoyed a cup of coffee with the Big Pick and Pan, said a tearful goodbye, and regretfully left town. Parting is such sweet sorrow.
BREAKING NEWS:It’s with a heavy heart that I announce the passing of the beautiful, whimsical Big Prawn. Our fearless friend was found dismembered on the morning of August 5, 2023, his head and legs sawn off by an angle grinder and stolen. Police believe they could turn up on the black market.
Next time you pick up a bag of frozen prawns, please, please check if there’s a metre-long metal head and some sawn-off chelas in there. With some luck, we can put the Prawn back together before he’s smuggled out of the country.
Don’t try to slip this shrimp on the barbie, because he’s uncookable! The Big Prawn was caught in furious bushfires in 2013, which saw everything around the durable decapod – including the service station he was perched in front of – burnt to a crisp.
He now looks a little lonely by the side of the Old Pacific Highway in Lake Macquarie, surrounded by rubble and trapped behind an old fence. But wipe away those tears, because the future is bright for our fire-fighting friend, with a bidding war raging for his ownership.
Controversy erupted in 2020 when nearby Central Coast Council made a play to buy the prawn to welcome visitors heading south – as Ploddy does to those coming up from Sydney.
“People often say we don’t get any attention in the north,” Councillor Jillian Hogan told a concerned reporter from the ABC. “Well, the Big Prawn is a good way of getting some attention!”
Don’t come the raw prawn!
However, with Central Coast Council drowning in debt, the move looks unlikely – which is music to the ears of the prawn’s creator, local legend Shane Simpson. He designed the creature in 1991 at the behest of a popular fish-and-chip shop, and based his design on a huge crustacean shipped up from Tasmania especially for the project.
“We’d love to see it stay in Lake Macquarie, only for the fact that every time I drive past I tell the grandkids I made it,” he exclaimed. “We made it with a fire-resistant resin, and it did its job – it didn’t melt!”
Just like his big brother in Ballina, the Crangan Bay Prawn has scurried through the fire and found peace and contentment on the other side. He was recently joined by the Big Pine Cones in nearby Caves Beach, in what is fast becoming a hotbed for Big action. Ah, sorry for the insensitive wordplay, buddy!
Pining for some Bigs with a view? Then cone on down to splendid Caves Beach, which boasts sparkling blue water, resplendent golden sand, and two of the largest pine cones you’re ever likely to see!
Officially known as Norfolk – after the spiky spheres dropped by the many Norfolk Island pines growing in the area – these stately seed pods were created by Newcastle-based artist/beekeeper Kelly-Ann Lees in 2019. Pine and Cone, as I prefer to call them, stand 1.5 metres tall and are just the right size for cuddles!
You might have noticed they’re rusting away, but don’t fret, because they were designed to evolve along with the coastal environment. No cones about it, they simply get more beautiful every day!
These brown bombshells aren’t the cone-ly Bigs in Lake Macquarie, with the inimitable Big Prawn only 15 minutes away. Do your wood seed for the day and say hello to all three of these coastal cuties.
Honestly, if I had a conifer every pine someone told me how ex-tree-mely nice these guys are, I’d be a rich Bigs Bardot!
Visitors to the river village of Tocumwal have been exclaiming this for almost six decades, and this water-dwelling dreamboat has lived a life most of us would be en-fish-ious of.
This bulky baby boomer’s story starts in the swingin’ 60s, when three of the more rebellious members of the local Chamber of Commerce decided the town needed something exciting to draw in tourists. They looked northward to Ploddy the Dinosaur, who was luring streams of Big-ficianados into Gosford, and a fish of epic proportions was soon on the carps… uh, sorry, make that the cards!
Big Thing visionaries Kathryn Moore, Alice Johnson and Lorna Nash held dozens of dances and sizzled sufficient sausages to raise the £3000 required to build the aquatic amigo. He was designed by Melbourne’s Duralite Company, and made from fiberglass with a steel skeleton. His outer details – such as his suave scrap metal fins – were lovingly added by volunteers and admirers.
The Big Murray Cod was o-fish-ially unveiled at a gala ceremony and quickly became a symbol of Berrigan Shire’s burgeoning counter-culture movement. His arrival ushered in a summer of love, with long-haired hippies, flower children, beatniks and other assorted delinquents rolling into Tocumwal to smack him right on the lips!
You’re carping on and on… When will this fin-ish?
The ’70s saw bell-bottom pants and safari suits find favour. But the Big Murray Cod wasn’t a slave to fashion and, aside from a few repaints, barely changed his look. Things took a grim turn in 1982, however, when the good people of Swan Hill, Victoria, erected a Giant Murray Cod of their own.
Bigger and fishier than the Tocumwal version, it was feared he’d hog all the glory. But the original still reels in the tourists – and there’s no de-baiting that!
Flannelette and a sullen attitude were the fish’s forte in the ’90s, and he was ahead of the tech curve by opening his own MySpace page in the 2000s. His family has since expanded to include Murray cods in St George and Tintaldra. The younger fish have grown up to be respected members of their communities, so obviously weren’t cod-dled as larvae.
This Big has settled down in recent years and is content, like most his age, to spend his days reading Aldi catalogues and preventing younger Bigs – such as the nearby Big Strawberry – from owning real estate. After so many years and such wild adventures, there are still a gill-ion reason to visit him, and it feels like Woodstock whenever one spends time with this fish.
It’s safe to say things are going swimmingly for the Big Murray Cod!
Please note: the plaque beneath this fish erroneously identifies him as the second oldest of the Bigs, but this honour actually belongs to the Big Banana, with Ploddy being the OG Big. Upon discovering this sickening glitch, I raced straight to the mayor’s office and was assured that the plaque would be corrected as a matter of urgency. I’m sorry, but there are some fins that I just can’t let go!
Tilly bounced her way into our hearts during the 1982 Commonwealth Games, taking centre stage at the opening ceremony in front of 50,000 enamoured fans. The cute kangaroo flirted with the crowd, winking her long lashes and swivelling her perfectly-proportioned head as a forklift flittered her around the track.
The world drew breath as one when the voluptuous Matilda lingered in front of the Duke of Edinburgh for an extended moment and their eyes locked. Time stood still as we hoped and dreamed that this most unlikely relationship might take its first, tentative steps.
The silence, however, was broken when dozens of excited kiddies dressed as joeys poured out of Matilda’s massive pouch and jumped around on trampolines as Rolf Harris belted out the timeless classic Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport. It was a moment no Australian will ever forget.
I was one of those joeys, and I’ve never felt as alive as I did whilst crouched in the belly of that 13-metre-tall marsupial. I cherish my grainy first photo with Tilly, and my memories of playing with Rolf’s wobble board. After that magical afternoon our lives took such different paths – Rolf as a much-loved singer, me as Australia’s foremost expert in Big Things, and Tilly as a hero to Queenslanders of all ages.
Bounding into retirement
Following the Games she took pride of place at Cade’s County Waterpark on the Gold Coast, where she kept a watchful eye over swimmers until being dismantled in the mid-2000s. She lay sad and alone in a field until 2009, when the happy chappies from Puma Energy resurrected her as the mascot for their new chain of service stations.
Though she originally hoped to live in Tugan on the Gold Coast’s glitter strip, Tilly settled for a quieter life in Kybong after planning approval fell through. It’s probably for the best, because I would’ve hated to see her with collagen lips and a fake tan!
Tilly’s just as beautiful as ever and is in a great location for photos and hugs. She’s an inspiration for other former parade floats such as Buffy and Pete, but the service station she called home until recently had been bypassed by the Bruce Highway and fallen into disrepair. On my recent visit, a dog chased me – and he wasn’t as friendly as his golden relative down south! Fortunately Tilly’s no stranger to a life on the road, and was recently roo-located to the new super servo along the road. Phew!
How much is that Tilly in the window?
I’m not sure whether there are any Matilda souvenirs at her new home, but you might be able to buy something much better. No, not a tea towel – a nine-metre-tall replica of the lovely kangaroo from Natureworks in Highvale, Queensland! Slightly slimmer than the busty original, she can also turn her head and wink. There were plans to place replica kangaroos at hundreds of Matilda service stations around the country, but financial strife scuttled that and only one was ever built. My birthday’s coming up, in case my admirers want to pitch in for a present…
Sexy, sassy, survivor. From packed stadiums to water slides to abandoned petrol stations, Matilda has lived a remarkable life with the sort of class and grace others can only dream of. She’s every bit as seductive as the day we fell in love with her 39 years ago, and I wish her much hoppy-ness in the future.
Please note; since writing this article, it’s been brought to my attention that Rolf Harris has been convicted of serious crimes and is currently incarcerated. Whilst I’ll always love his music and consider him to be a visionary, Matilda and I have decided to remove Rolf from our WhatsApp group.
Please note 2; apparently Rolf has died, so let’s all just move on.
Open the door, get on the floor Everybody walk with Digby the Dinosaur!
She might be 65 million years old, but this delightful dino is still a big kid at heart. Digby lives in Albury Botanic Gardens’ wonderfully-presented Children’s Garden and is more than happy to be kissed, cuddled and climbed upon. It’s safe to say she’s dinos-awfully popular!
Digby’s not as famous as her aunty Ploddy or as grand as her uncle Big Kev, but is every bit as remarkable. She’s immense yet adorable, vivacious yet shy, and incredibly unique. Oh, and those eyes are to die-nosaur for! You can find her hiding away in the trees, head to the ground to say hello to her friends.
For those who are overwhelmed by Bigs on this scale, Digby’s baby son Diego is playing blissfully nearby – and he’ll fill you with joy. There are also cubby houses, a fairy temple, and a terrifying troll cave that I was too much of a sissy to enter!
After a big morning of playing with Digby and Diego, why not head to the nearby World’s Biggest Rolling Pin for a sandwich at their dino… uh, I mean diner!
Cairo has the Pyramids, Paris has la tour Eiffel. Bundy has its own tribute to the culture of its people – this fantastic flagon of the good old fighting juice! The Big Rum Bottle wearily outside the Bundaberg Rum Distillery, which is a mecca for barflies Big Thing fanatics.
The rum-filled Romeo was constructed for World Expo ’88 in Brisbane. He overshadowed the futuristic monorail and the Nepalese Peace Pagoda, and shipped north shortly thereafter. He remains as popular as the booze he’s modelled after and welcomes a non-stop stream of devotees – some of whom even seem sober!
The distillery offers a tantalising variety of Bundy Rum memorabilia, although sadly nothing with the Big Rum Bottle on it. I had to visit the nearby Visitor Information Centre to buy my magnet. There’s a fascinating museum on site, and tours of the distillery are available, complete with generous tastings of the famous rum range.
But please, try not to go overboard, otherwise you’ll have an encounter with another Big Thing – the Big Hangover!
Like most icons, the Big Rum Bottle has plenty of copycats, including a doppelganger up the road in Rocky. There’s also Darrel the Barrel, who’s full the brim with the most scrumptious range of fizzy drinks you’ve ever seen – perfect for those who, like me, shy away from hard liquor.
Standing seven metres tall, the Big Rum Bottle is large enough to hold several thousand litres of hard liquor. Or enough to last your average Queenslander for about three days, tee-hee!
The good people of Bundy are so obsessed with ginger beer that a regular-sized barrel full of it could never satisfy them. So in 2005 they built the Big Barrel – lovingly referred to as Darrel by his swarm of admirers – in the middle of the city. This soft drink paradise is certainly sweet!
Darrel serves as a shrine to the region’s enviable fizzy drink pedigree, with everything from cola to lemonade on offer. For the curious, free tours of this Big Thing are available. I’m sure you’ll be as fascinated by the process behind crafting pink grapefruit sparkling water as I was. It’s certainly a brew-nique experience!
The Barrel is open seven days a week for your drinking pleasure. For those who spent all their time posing in front of darrel, takeaway six-packs are available to purchase.
Darrel is an alcohol-free barrel, so the nearby Big Bundy Bottle is the place for wallowing in intoxicated decadence. I must, however, confess to overindulging on the sarsaparilla. The alluring licorice aromas proved irresistible, and the resultant sugar high led to some particularly silly behaviour. I was sent barrelling towards self-destruction.
I was forcibly removed for starting a fist fight with another patron over his belief that the Big Banana is the oldest Big Thing in Australia. Whilst my opinion was completely correct and his was, to put it bluntly, foolish and ill-educated, I shouldn’t have caused such a scene. I’ll stick to sugar-free beverages in future.
Darrel may be only half a barrel, but he’s a whole lot of fun!
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!
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!
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!
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.
Fruitisforus, the green triceratops Queensland, was a bit blasé about the whole ordeal – but that’s just Fruity being Fruity.
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 grape-est hits collection. There’s 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 with my platonic friend Gordon, I can imagine it would be a wonderful place to take a date.
It’s possible to pick your own fruit on a weekend – the perfect souvenir of a delicious day out. Needless to say, a trip to Bilpin will be a fruitful endeavour!
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 $3 million damage.
The Bilpin Fruit Bowl, thankfully, was saved from a flaming fate. Small mercies for some big fruit!
Bilpin is a beautiful village surrounded by natural wonders. It’s possible to go hiking, camping and traipsing through award-winning gardens in a single afternoon. Or trot up to The Bilpin Apple Pie for a slice afternoon!
The local cider is apple-solutely scrumptious! The pink blush variety will (fruit) bowl you over, and there are non-alcoholic options for the kiddies… or a tiny alien companion!
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!
