It’s Big Thing o’clock, yeah, it’s lizard-thirty I’m here in Somersby and it’s real purty (okay) Is everybody set for someone scaly? Who you can visit all up on the daily Lizzo can make you smile quite gayly How you feelin’? How you feel right now?
Ooooh, Lizzo the Big Lizard’s a treasure Find her near the Aus Reptile Park, yeah Oh, she’s not the creature she was or used to be Uh, Biggies, she’s even better!
Turn up Pile Street, then on the right I got a feelin’ you’ll see something nice Okay (okay), alright It’s about damn time! Stop for a photo, yes that’s the way! I got a feelin’ she’s gon’ make your day Okay (okay), alright Lizzo is damn fine!
In a minute, you’ll go completely mental ‘Cos Ploddy‘s nearby to pump you up So is Frilly, she’ll make you feel really silly But remember you’re fabulous I enjoyed Lizzo so dang much I split into like two Bigs Bardots One to get up, one to get down Both will help you smile, not frown
Ooooh, Lizzo the Big Lizard’s a treasure With her frilled neck and toothy smile, yeah Oh, she’s not the creature she was or used to be Uh, Biggies, she’s even better!
Liz might be ageing, but don’t have a fright I got a feelin’ she’s gon’ be alright Okay (okay), alright Oh yeah she’ll be fine (fine) Older Big Lizards can, still celebrate (alright) I got a feelin’ Lizzo wants to go out and play Okay (okay), alright She’s still in her prime
Lizzo’s comin’ out tonight, she’s comin’ out tonight (uh-huh) To Club Troppo tonight, ‘cos it’s Saturday night (wooooo!) Vodka Cruisers tonight, get in a fight tonight Okay (okay), alright (alright) It’s Troppo time! Club Troppo’s closed tonight, (oh no) has been since ’06, why? (closed since ’06, why?) Nowhere to go tonight, Gosford is dead tonight (woo) Need a plan for tonight, let’s break the time-space continuum tonight (break the time-space continuum tonight) Okay (okay), alright Let’s go back in time!
And that’s the story of how Lizzo the Big Lizard, Bigs Bardot the much-loved roadside attraction savant, Gordon the rambunctious alien, Gideon the gooey guacamole, and Bigs Bardot’s evil-yet-whimsically-handsome clone invented time travel, just so they could head back to 2001 and dance to Craig David’s 7 Days whilst sucking on watered-down frozen cocktails and avoiding the near-constant dancefloor scuffles at the legendary Club Troppo.
A brief note on Lizzo’s current legal situation
It’s recently been brought to my attention that Lizzo – the remarkably talented, deliciously robust, African American pop singer, not the remarkably large, deliciously anatomically accurate, Indigenous Australian lizard – has been cancelled due to some rather serious sexual misconduct charges.
Please be aware that the passionate and diverse Land of the Bigs team does not condone such behaviour. After months of negotiations with the Australian Reptile Park, I’ve been assured that Lizzo’s open invitation to the Quoll Experience has been revoked.
Hallelujah! Your prayers have been answered, because Brother Bigs is here to introduce you to a clam of biblical proportions. And, best of all, it doubles as a church, so you won’t have to take a break from worshipping Big Things in order confess your sins to a man of the cloth.
It’s a miracle, baby. A dadgum miracle!
The Clam rises divinely above Long Jetty, long known as the pearl of the Central Coast, and perfectly capture’s the area’s beachy aesthetic. An unassuming Big, The Clam can only truly be appreciated from the air. Which makes sense as it was, after all, built to appease a higher power.
A shrining example of modern architecture, the Clam-thedral’s details are simply heavenly. The exhalant siphon has been lovingly recreated, and the prominent – some may even say provocative – umbo is almost indistinguishable from the real deal.
Surrounding The Clam are understated lawns and pastors – oops, I mean pastures! – that are perfect for a moment of quiet reflection. There’s even a few psalm trees round the side.
Whilst not as large as the similarly-shaped Big Oyster, please don’t allow this to alter your perception of The Clam. This is a truly special Big, an icon of the Central Coast, and a sacrosanct structure that should be admired and praised.
There’s often a congregation outside to admire The Clam, which is no surprise because it’s a holy lot of fun!
Wham! Bam! Thank you, Clam!
Owned by the disciples of the Greenhouse Church, the mass-ive Clam is more than just a pretty ventral margin. Gatherings are held each Sunday, and the centre is also available for functions and weddings – making The Clam the only Big you can get married in!
Of course, matrimony is nothing but a pipe dream for yours truly. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.
So overcome by emotion were Gordon and I whilst exploring The Clam, that we tossed in our lives of atheism and became devout members of the church. Gordon even dressed as an alter boy – so cute!
Our lives became full of love and meaning, we made soul-enriching friendships built on values and respect, and we were able to sit beneath the mystical glow of The Clam on a daily basis. Yet that was just the clam before the storm. We were, tragically, cast out when the other parishioners found out about my ‘alternative lifestyle’.
Don’t be a hermit, scurry along to the sun-soaked sanctum of Terrigal to see this ever-tilish mosaic crab, who comes with his own oversized sea shell. Known as The Odyssey of Life, this salt-encrusted wonder takes pride of place outside the Central Coast Marine Discovery Centre and is sure to pinch a piece of your heart!
The Odyssey of Life he was lovingly created by the dynamic duo of Christopher Pekowski and Carlos Diaz, two passionate, self-taught artists whose hearts beat in unison. So in tune are these lads with each other, so driven by a shared passion for Big Things, that they answer to the collective name of Christopher Diaz and are rarely – if ever – seen apart in public.
This Big is truly gob-smacking, with exquisite artisanship and impeccable attention to detail that must be seen to be believed. And the art world agrees. The Odyssey of Life picked up the Judge’s Choice award at the 2018 Sculptures @ Bayside festival in Kyeemagh, NSW – with one Biggles Marion Bardot casting the deciding vote.
Apparently the runners-up were really crabby afterwards – teehee!
Christian Diaz donated the sculpture, which is part of a series of works known collectively as Pacifica Australis, to the Discovery Centre in 2022. Since then, attendances have tripled, and the boys have found themselves as local shell-ebrities and the toast of the Coast’s blossoming so-shell scene.
If you didn’t find those puns funny, babe, you must be shell-ucinating!
Odyssey is the Best Policy
This deliciously large Triton trumpet has swiftly become a much-loved feature of Terrigal’s burgeoning tourist scene, alongside The Skillion and underage drinking. Christian Diaz, however, see it as much more than that.
“The ocean is a living organism in which everything is connected to everything, where constant migration and changes are turning it into a spectacular Odyssey of Life,” the boys explained when revealing their pièce de résistance. “It’s happening just under the water’s surface and we are a huge part of it having such an impact on life on Earth.
“Pacifica Australis, through its explosion of colours, complexity and bold appearance, is confronting two environments: trapped between concrete, a relatively modern world and natural forces that support life and sustainability on the planet since its beginning – both are vulnerable and closely related.”
Take that, anyone who erroneously believes that Bigs aren’t at the apex of haute couture! With time, this tour de force may well become as entwined within the fabric of Australian society as Tewantin’s legendary Big Shell.
Sadly our afternoon with The Odyssey was ruined by Gordon, who carried on like a big baby after the crab nipped his tiny tootsie.
Oh, Gordon, don’t you know some of us would pay good money for 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!
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!
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?
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.
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!
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.
