Tag: Queensland

  • The Big Thermometer, Stanthorpe, QLD

    The Big Thermometer, Stanthorpe, Queensland, Australia

    Queensland’s coldest town is also home to the state’s hottest Big Thing – The Big Thermometer in beautiful Stanthorpe.

    Angular and baroque, with the temperature proudly displayed in bright neon at the top, this massive monument stands ten (thermo)metres high. For our American fans, that’s a (faren)height of 33 feet.

    Unveiled to a chilly, yet curious public on September 4, 2018, The Big Thermometer is the culmination of 20 years of blood, sweat and tears.

    After many heated arguments within the community, construction finally started in mid-2017. Local chaps Albert Piper and Peter Ingall selected and attached the intricate stone façade. By the way, do you think they needed a degree to help build this temperature reader?

    The Sunshine State isn’t known for its icy weather, but Stanny is one of the coldest places in Australia, with a record low temperature of -10.6 degrees – something the locals are freezed as punch about.

    “We’re the coldest town in Queensland and we’re really proud of it and we want to showcase it,” Chamber of Commerce vice-president Mick Spiller babbled.

    “Everyone likes to get a photo taken in front of something big and we’ve certainly got a quality structure there for people to do that – I think the word will spread very quickly.”

    The Big Thermometer takes pride of place in the tranquil Rotary Park, next to the duck-filled Quart Pot Creek and just up from the Visitor Centre. They’ll always give you warm welcome!

    The Big Thermometer’s put Stanthorpe on the map – that’s for tempera-sure!

    Revenge is a dish best served… cold!

    Relations have long been frosty between the people of Stanthorpe and those of nearby Applethorpe, with both claiming to live in Queensland’s chilliest town.

    For decades, Applethorpers had bragging rights, as the Bureau of Meteorology plucked their readings from a fancy weather machine set up in their hamlet.

    Temperatures in Stanthorpe, on the other hand, were manually recorded and submitted to the BOM by rugged-up volunteers at 9am each day, so their arctic dawns never made the morning news.

    Then, in 1978 Applethorpe built the core-geous Big Apple – a true magnet for tourists – leaving the good folks of Stanthorpe even further out in the cold.

    And thus, the true brilliance of The Big Thermometer becomes apparent. Not only does its size and beauty draw visitors in their thousands, but there’s an even fancier weather machine hidden within its blocky bowels.

    Now both towns have Big Things. Both towns have wizz-bang weather-reading machines – and the rivalry is hotter than ever.

    It’s gettin’ hot in Stanny, so take off all your clothes
    I am gettin’ so hot, I wanna take my clothes off!

    When my pluviophilic pal, Gordon, and myself arrived in Stanthorpe, it wasn’t cold at all. It was, in fact a balmy 32.2 degrees – hot enough to melt the horns off Ballandean’s nearby Big Dinosaur!

    “If I’d checked the fur-cast,” Gordon wheezed as we climbed out of the Bigsmobile, “I would’ve shaved my body hair off beforehand.”
    “Weather or not you’re cold or hot…”
    “I know, I know, I need to keep a sunny disposition.”
    “You Mercu-really do,” I chuckled.

    We sat down beneath the branches of a sprawling tree, and watched a parrot land on the crown of the Thermometer. I glanced at Gordon. Gordon glanced me.

    “It really is an ice Big Thing.”
    “You need to sleet it to believe it!”
    “All hail this roadside attraction.”
    “It’s quite cloud-standing.”
    “Worth stopping for – don’t just look at it through the wind-ow as you drive past.”
    “It’s snow wonder the locals are so proud of their Thermometer.”
    “Although they can be a bit vane about it.”

    “Gordon,” I said gently, taking my chum by the hand. “I hate to rain on your parade, but I need to save some weather-related puns for my entry on The World’s Biggest Thermometer in Baker, California. Now let’s get some photos.”

    “No worries, Bigs, but just remember,” Gordon grinned, holding up a single finger. “No matter how tempting The Big Thermometer looks, please don’t try to climate!

  • Duelling Banjos, Kin Kin, Qld

    Duelling Banjos, Kin Kin, Queensland, Australia

    Deep in the Noosa Hinterland, far from the chatter of the city, the gumtrees and stars once bore witness to a sonic revolution – the Duelling Banjos. The fully-playable instruments come from the musical mind of Steve Weis, and served for years as the gateway to his harmonious homestead and the many wonders within.

    But now the banjos duel no longer.

    Steve forged a reputation as one of Australia’s pre-eminent scrap metal artists – he even crafted The Black Ant up the road – before transforming his estate into an intergalactic soundshower.

    His gnarled artworks create an aural tapestry that is at once alien and familiar, soothing yet rhythmically unnerving. Steve’s recycled behemoths are a meditation on the very essence of life and love.

    “Many years ago I had the experience of grinding with an angle grinder on a big, complex steel form, and started to hear a celestial melody,” Steve opined. “I also found that as I moved my grinding disc around on the surface, I could find sweet spots that caused this melody to play stronger.”

    Bigella and moi were lucky enough to join these melodic marvels on their farewell tour, just before the house was sold and they left Kin Kin forever. We found The Big Banjos to be beautifully detailed, charmingly rustic and – most importantly – really, really big!

    As we were strumming away, we were approached by one of Steve’s disciples. A kindly chap, he whisked us off on a magical mystery tour of the estate’s sprawling grounds.

    What we discovered beggared belief. Whimsical sculptures and vibrant tropical plants decorated the soundgarden. Our spirit guide regaled us with stories of wild parties and quiet moments and extraterrestrial visitors.

    It was a celestial voyage that we would never have embarked upon if we hadn’t gone looking for Big Things.

    The Day the Music Died

    “Some people say I’ve got small man complex,” Steve once told a journalist, as they explored his choral kaleidoscope. “But I do like big, I like scale. I like magnificence. I like to have the feeling there’s something bigger than us.”

    To visit Steve’s acoustic highway is to forever see and hear the world differently. So, when Bigella and I discovered the manor was to be sold in early 2024, we wasted no time putting in an offer.

    Unfortunately, a Big Potato t-shirt and a lifetime subscription to Land of the Bigs Premium weren’t quite what Steve had in mind, so we lost out to some other lucky duck.

    The sculptures scattered around Steve’s sanctuary were split up and auctioned off in February 2024.

    “Can we get the Duelling Banjos?” I begged Bigella. “Can we, can we?”
    “Bigs,” she sighed. “The Big Guitar you got from Surfers Paradise is gathering dust in the attic.”
    “I guess so.”
    “And you can always see Chango con Banjo next time we swing by Mexico City.”
    “Well,” I shrugged, “I have been meaning to get a new poncho!”

    The Banjos were picked up by a Bigthusiast for just $2500. Sadly, they will have been removed from the property by the time you read this.

    And so, Steve Weis’s wonderland has been consigned to a curious corner of history. But every time a breeze slams a rusty door closed, or an iron roof shudders at a passing storm, I shall be reminded of this remarkable artist, and his bombastic Duelling Banjos

  • iDIDIT!, Birtinya, QLD

    People are always complimenting me on my childlike exuberance (or, as they usually put it, my emotional immaturity), so when I found out there was a six-metre-tall statue of a playful kiddie on the Sunshine Coast, I grabbed Bigella and trundled over there.

    After having my sippy cup and an afternoon nap, of course!

    iDIDIT! was created by babyfaced artist Russel Anderson in 2017, and can be found frolicking in Birtinya’s lively Village Park. A tribute to the young and the young at heart, its not unusual to find dozens of poeple monkeying about on the grassy knoll he rests upon.

    Whilst there I even witnessed a pensioner, 95 if he was a day, trundle up on his mobility scooter and then, inspired by the statue’s splendour, pull off a a perfectly-executed backflip with a half-pike.

    “I did it!” he cheered afterwards.

    Rambunctious Russel spent more than eight months fashioning iDITIT! from more than 250 layers of weathering steel, providing a timeless appearance that contrasts magnificently against the impermanence of youth.

    “Every layer was hand-drawn and cut into about a thousand pieces that had to interconnect – there was no ‘oopsy-daisy’, I only got one go at it,” Russel told Salt Magazine. “There were in excess of 6000 holes and bolts to hold the pieces together.

    “It was a weird shape too – there was a wiggly shirt and wiggly hair. It was about trusting I’d designed it correctly. I’d never done anything like it before.”

    The public responded, not surprisingly, with youthful zeal. Then a gutter journalist wrote a hit piece revealing the cost of iDIDIT! – a very reasonable $220,000, paid for by property developers Stockland – and a bunch of big babies threw their toys out of the pram in the worst way possible.

    New Kid On The Block

    iDIDIT! became the target of an online hate campaign that bordered on child abuse. Russel – poor, kind, talented Russel – was crushed. His gift to the world, which breathes life and levity into a nondescript park, was putting smiles on faces every day of the week. But it wasn’t enough for some.

    “It put me off doing art,” Russell wept. “It gutted me. I put everything into it and it got to me. I was thinking, ‘I can’t comprehend I’ve built this with that amount of money’. Most of the cost was materials, the steel, the cutting and the labour to weld it. It’s Australian steel, too – I could have bought it from China, but you don’t know what you’re getting.”

    Well the Chinese do have their One Big Child Policy – teehee!

    “People I know jumped on Facebook and tried to tell people the facts, but I didn’t want to engage with people. I thought, ‘this is my personal life. I don’t want to be attacked for something I worked hard for’. I’d just built the best thing I’d ever built!”

    One would assume that the good folk of the Sunny Coast – home to The Big Mower, The Big Pineapple, Matilda and The Black Ant – would be more open-minded.

    Russel’s tale is a perfect metaphor for the loss of childhood innocence. If iDIDIT! – cheeky and pure and made of several tonnes of dilapidated metal – must bend to the societal pressures of bigotry and ignorance, what hope does a regular-sized child have?

    Well I Guess This Is Growing Up

    The sculpture transforms throughout the day, as if experiencing all the stages of boyhood. At dawn, iDIDIT! stands cold and alone against the blooming Queensland sun, reborn every morning. By noon, the piece shows off its scuffs and scrapes, a melancholy elegy to misspent youth. And finally, at dusk, iDIDIT! is wrapped in a cocoon of darkness, signalling the end of childhood and the inevitable journey into adolescence.

    “The boy has a bit of a serious message underneath it all about rehabilitation, but it’s meant to be fun and joyous,” Russel continued. “I’m not trying to offend people and I’m not political in any way. That’s my thing about public art – I’m trying to lighten things up a bit. Aesthetics are important of course, and workmanship. It needs to be well built.”

    Well, iDIDIT! is certainly well-built. I’d need to do months of Billy Blanks’ Tae Bo to build up lats like that!

    “The boy is very accessible and that’s really important to me,” added Russel. “You have a memory of doing a handstand and you relate to it instantly. I’ve not really done figurative work like that as a rule and it meets my criteria – the whimsy, the playfulness – there’s so much I can do in that world.”

    It was this waggishness that so enchanted Bigella and moi as we sat in The Big Child’s shadow.

    “You know, Bigella,” I whispered, gently taking her hand. “iDIDIT! has inspired me with his innocence and joy. I think it’s time we had a child of our own.”
    “Oh, Bigs!” she gasped, a tear meandering its way down her cheek. “Do you really mean it?”
    “Yeah, a statue just like this would look great in the front yard. I’ll give Russel Anderson a call, right after you change my nappy!”

  • The King of Atlantis, Main Beach, QLD

    The King of Atlantis, Sea World, Main Beach, Gold Coast, Queensland, Australia

    You must be 122cm tall to ride Sea World’s newest thrill ride – but that shouldn’t bother The King of Atlantis. At nine metres from fishy feet to golden crown, this ocean god holds the tidal for tallest humanoid sculpture in Australia, and so can do pretty much water-ever he likes.

    Well, except wear a shirt, apparently. But then again, who wouldn’t wanna show off those obliques?

    Yes, this soggy stud needs to be marine to be believed. Digitally designed by the brine folks at Sculpt Studios on the Gold Coast, The King was cast in composite fibreglass, then airbrushed with exquisite attention to detail. Without getting into Pacifics, I was Poseidon myself with excitement when I was first able to sea him.

    The King watches over the park’s $50 million New Atlantis sea-development, which includes the Vortex spinny-thing, the Trident flying-chair-whatsit and the heart-drenching Leviathan rollercoaster. All of which are sure to make you go “H2-Whooooah!”

    For those wanting to splash out on a day at Sea World, the new krill rides make for a welcome break from the park’s range of family-friendly penguin exhibits and seal shows. I mean, what’s the porpoise of seeing the dolphins – they aren’t even Big.

    There is a bucketload of beautiful Bigs on the Gold Coast, though. No Aquaman is an island, so The King rules over Blue Perspective, GeckoMania!, Kangaroo Kat, Bigfoot, Ring-O and Maddie & Mike. And yes, they’re all swell.

    As for the 1000m-long wooden rollercoaster The King protects? I wasn’t scared at all! The only reason my trousers were damp afterwards was because The King of Atlantis splashed me – and don’t let Bigella tell you otherwise!

    Hail to the King, Baby!

    Since posting this highly informative article, I’ve received several pieces of feedback – some would call it hate mail – from admirers of Ernie, a similarly-large humanoid sculpture who lives in the picturesque Victorian hamlet of Shepparton.

    The locals, who take great pride in their world famous Big, have passionately put forth their opinion that Ernie, not The King of Atlantis, holds the crown as Australia’s most enormous human-shaped statue.

    For fear of having my “brains bashed in” (as Byron so eloquently put it) or being forced to “sleep at the bottom of the Goulburn River” (as Arjun has invited me to do), I must point out that Ernie simply doesn’t measure up. And I say that in the most respectful manner possible.

    Despite being impressively robust, with an enormous head and barrel chest, he doesn’t have any legs and so is several metres shorter than our Atlantean friend. Ernie, therefore, shall be forever looking up at the true King.

    I guess you could say Ernie’s only half the man The King of Atlantis is – teehee!

  • The Big Mower, Beerwah, QLD

    The Big Mower, Beerwah, Queensland, Australia

    Tidying up the backyard can be as exciting as watching grass grow – unless you have the world’s largest mower! Yes, the lawn and the short of it is that Beerwah’s Big Mower is a grass-terclass in roadside architecture and a true celebration of Aussie culture.

    Not much information exists regarding The Big Mower – just a few clippings here and there – but we do know it was built in 1974 and stands a 11m by 3.6m (or 12 yards tall for my American fans). Originally emblazoned with a Honda logo, the Mower had started looking a bit rough around the hedges in recent shears.

    With a fresh coat of paint, it now proudly bears Victa branding. Anything else, apparently, is on a need-to-mow-basis.

    The Big Mower rests peacefully outside a lawncare shop known, quite appropriately, as The Big Mower. The boutique went under the hammer in 2024 for the bargain price of $1,750,000. I had a bit of a snipper round for funds, but ended up $1,749,950 short. Oh well, maybe the wheels will fall off the business and they’ll cut the price.

    The store has the perfect mower for any occasion, which must be fantastic if you have a big, burly man in your life who’s ready and willing to use it to chop the buffalo grass. I, unfortunately, have Gordon, who would rather sit around guzzling cheap beer and watching professional wrestling bloopers on his phone than keeping a trim and presentable front yard.

    Oh well, Raoul the yard boy was more than happy to pop around to manicure my garden. His technique was impeccable, his attention to detail second to none. And you won’t believe what he did to my rhododendrons. In fact, Raoul might need to come over and cut Gordon’s grass once a week!

    BONUS BIG JOKE

    Q: Why was The Big Mower so cranky?
    A: He was tired of being pushed around!

  • Blue Perspective, Southport, QLD

    Blue Perspective, Southport, Queensland, Australia

    Let’s go surfin’ now, everybody’s learnin’ how, come see Blue Perspective with Biggsy (and Bigella, Gordon and Gordina!).

    Surf’s up, dude, so wax up your board and don’t forget the shark spray, because this perspective will blue you away! With skin and hair as azure as the Pacific, this three-metre tall surf rat is hard to miss. She stands alone in Southport’s Broadwater Parklands, gazing earnestly towards the ocean. If you’re paddling past, give ‘Bluey’ a wave!

    Chic and stylish, yet bright and bubbly, Bluey superbly encapsulates the cosmopolitan atmosphere of the modern-day Gold Coast. A positive vibe and clean, healthy attitude make her the perfect role model for kiddies, which is a good thing because there’s a totally tubular playground just metres from her robust thighs.

    Blue Perspective was shaped by the legendary John Cox (yes, he responsible for the nearby Maddie and Mike) for the 2013 SWELL Sculpture Festival at Currumbin Beach. Bluey made such a splash that she remained there for several years after the festivities wiped out. Considering how sunny Queensland is, I hope she had plenty of zinc on her nose!

    Bluey was then purchased by the Big Thing-loving Gold Coast Council, who paddled her north to her current location. I don’t know the date she was installed, but assume it was on a Big Wednesday. The lovingly-presented park, with this immaculate Big, should be enough to tide you through many an Endless Summer.

    Cowabunga, dude!

    She’s blue (da ba dee da ba di)

    Longing for the authentic Surfers Paradise tourist experience during our visit, Bigella and I signed up for surf lessons. Not wanting to spend a morning surrounded by wine-drunk backpackers from Yorkshire, we instead decided to sit beneath the learning tree of the wise and eternal Blue Perspective.

    Of course, I would’ve approached my good chum Mick Fanning, but the surfing legend has some pretty ripe views about The Big Wheelie Bin. You might’ve punched a shark, Mick, but you also punched a hole in our friendship!

    With Gordina and Gordon (complete with super-cute flotation ring!) in tow, we were delighted to discover that Bluey is as charismatic as she is iconic. Her ample bosom and lithe, feminine curves aren’t usually to my taste, yet aroused a corporeal longing deep within my soul that had me yearning to hang ten compliments upon her generous hips.

    “Blue Perspective, the transcendent and career-defining opus of John Cox, shreds with a cobalt angst that belies her carefree visage,” opined Bigella, who had obviously been working her way through the thesaurus I’d bought her for Christmas.

    “I’m just jealous of her bikini line,” added Gordina.

    Our surf lesson went splendidly, until Gordon pretended to drown in a desperate attempt to lure one of Queensland’s bosomy, bikini-clad lifesavers in to rescue him. Oh, how we laughed when he was instead dragged to shore by Waldemar, a six-foot-four Lithuanian bodybuilder with a toothy grin and a pair of Speedos two sizes too small.

    I hope they’ll be very happy together.

  • The Big Strawberry, Elimbah, QLD

    The Big Strawberry, Elimbah, Queensland

    Roll up, roll up to the ravishing Rolin Farm, where you’ll find a truss-see attraction – The Big Strawberry! This plump, juicy fruit stands four metres tall from rambunctious receptacle to perky peduncle, and is sure to in-stem-tly find a place in your heart.

    The Strawberry was crafted to draw attention to the farm’s pulp-ular store, which is open from June to October each and every year. It’s certainly been a fruitful venture, with throngs of Biggies lining up to have their photo snapped with this Big, before heading inside to stock up on jams, marmalades, ice creams and other goodies.

    For those who can pluck up the courage to get their hands dirty, it’s possible to pick your own strawberries. From just $6 a bucket, it’s hardly daylight strobbery. Don’t punnets yourself by missing out!

    It was a pit-y, however, that the Strawberry wasn’t looking particularly fresh when I visited in early-2023. With cracking calyx and peeling paint, she was a pale imitation of the bright ‘n’ beautiful Strawberry in Koonoomoo. Thankfully she hasn’t deteriorated to the extent of the Luddenham Strawberry, but I remain berry concerned for her welfare.

    There has been word that the owners will repaint the Strawberry when they get a break from picking fruit, so I’ll try my harvest to remain positive.

    Keep Rolin, Rolin, Rolin, Rolin!

    Who’s in the strawberry patch with Bigsy? Bigella’s at the Strawberry with me! Gordon and Gordina are also here. ‘Neath the shade of the old apple tree!

    My apologies for bursting into song, but my inner Tony Orlando always swaggers forth whenever I’m confronted by a truly straw-inspiring Big. The four of us had the Strawberry to ourselves, as we visited out of season, and so were able to soak in the spectacle of this Queensland icon.

    Our encounter with The Big Strawberry, as she hung like a blood-red dew-drop in the autumnal twilight, was a provocative, solemn, incongruous and super juicy experience that was every bit as scrumptious as the fruit she’s based upon.

    Gordina, the on-again-off-again lady friend of Gordon, was berry impressed by this Big’s ex-seed-ingly large size, and was more than happy to fill the role as our very own strawberry shortcake for these fascinating photos.

    So enraptured by The Big Strawberry were Bigella and I that we made the snap decision to become strawberry farmers. Rolin Farms is a working plantation and always on the lookout for eager employees, so our gaggle trotted up to the front door, caps in hands. Gordon, in his most deferential voice, pitched our value to the farm.

    Unfortunately the only jobs on offer involved actually picking the strawberries, rather than taking cute photos of them for Insta. I’d just had my nails done, so we piled back into the Bus of the Bigs and set off for greener pastures.

    “Well,” Gordon said with a world-weary sigh as we drove into the night, “there goes my chance of being on the next season of Farmer Wants a Wife.”

  • The Black Ant, Kin Kin, QLD

    Nobody wants ants to turn up during a meal, but you’ll love sharing your food with this irrepressible insect! The Black Ant was brought to life by legendary local artist Steve Weis and can be found, appropriately enough, outside the Black Ant Gourmet Cafe in the verdant Sunshine Coast Hinterland

    With his homespun charm and quirky, indigenous-inspired paintjob, The Black Ant is right at home in the rustic village of Kin Kin – which means ‘plenty of black ants’ in the local Aboriginal dialect. Sadly, the handsome chap’s eyes had fallen off shortly before I arrived, giving him an alien, dystopian veneer.

    Far from detracting from the experience, however, this merely establishes the metallic marvel as a constantly-evolving art piece, forever eroding and evolving like the surrounding hills.

    Ever the crowd-pleaser, the Black Ant was designed to be ridden by weary travellers. He boasts a comfortable – yet well-worn – saddle, allowing him to blend in with the motorbikes that are so often found in front of the cafe. A more interactive Big it’s hard to imagine.

    Those days, sadly, are behind him. The relentless Queensland sun and some overly-rambunctious admirers have left him in a delicate state. Please, I implore you not to climb atop The Big Ant, no matter how many likes you believe the resultant photo shall garner on Instagram. Insect him from a safe distance to ensure he’s able to inspire generations of Biggies for generations to come.

    The Ant is not the bulkiest citizen of the Land of the Bigs – especially compared to the massive Matilda, who lives just down the road in Traveston. But, like similarly-proportioned Big Red Bug, he has a friendly personality that renders him eminently approachable. Just don’t offer him an alcoholic beverage – you don’t want him to end up alitrunk and disorderly!

    Ants in Your Pants

    The Black Ant Cafe has been the lifeblood of Kin Kin for more than a century, originally serving as a general store. It was only when renowned chefs Richard and Kirsty Mundt took over a few years ago that it metamorphosed into the finest restaurant in the region.

    The menu is a veritable treasure trove of piquant pastas and bespoke burgers, with hearty portions sure to satisfy after a long day searching for Bigs. Best of all, many of the cafe’s arcadian tables offer panoramic views over the ant sculpture.

    As a reflection of my brawny, tough guy mystique, I treated myself to the ploughman’s lunch. The trio of cheeses were as aromatic as they were velvety, the pickles crunchy and oh-so-zesty, and the generous selection of meats to die for. I’d describe the handmade chutney, but fear I may drool all over my keyboard!

    My compatriot for this trip, Bigella Fernadez Hernandez, was so engrossed in her smoked salmon, paired with a delightfully sticky lemon meringue tart, that she was unable to find time to pose for a photo with the Black Ant. Well, that and the fact she accidentally smeared the rich tomato paste down her fresh tunic.

    As a side note, the cafe offers the most spacious, clean and well-appointed restrooms I’ve ever encountered during my travels through the Land of the Bigs. The sprawling subtropical plants and delicate selection of scented soaps provided a serene oasis for a moment of quiet reflection.

    If I could sum up my afternoon at the Black Ant Cafe in one word? Brilli-ant!

  • Kangaroo Kat, Carrara, QLD

    Hop along to Carrara Markets to meet Kat, the world’s largest wooden kangaroo. This five-metre-tall marsupial mixes brutalist design philosophies with a fun, quirky and approachable sense of honesty. You can even climb into her prodigious pouch to live out your fantasies of being a joey!

    Kat bounded into the Gold Coast in 2016 (which was, appropriately, a leap year), and is the passion project of Danish sculptor Thomas Dambo. Originally joined by an equally-impressive wooden snake and shark, Kat’s the only one of the trio who hasn’t become extinct.

    Planks for the memories, guys!

    “I try to do art that inspires other people to have the same joy and adventure with using the world’s trash for something positive,” Thomas told a sunburnt reporter from the ABC. “To help people open their eyes to see that it’s a shame to throw stuff out that still has more value.”

    Well, you know what they say; one man’s trash is another man’s achingly beautiful Big Kangaroo!

    Kat’s not all, folks!

    If you spot someone grinning unflinchingly up at Kangaroo Kat, tears of pride streaming down her face, then that’s the lovely lady this Big Thing was named after. Kat, a popular market worker, selflessly helped Thomas piece her together.

    When morale was low, when storms battered in and it seemed as if the project would never be finished, there was Kat with a coffee and a chocolate bickie and a few words of encouragement.

    It was her determination and grace that saw the kangaroo kompleted, and for that she was awarded the greatest honour known to mankind. Yeah, move over Kofi Annan, how many giant rats are named after you?

    As I’m sure Kat will tell you, Carrara Markets are the place to walla-be. You’re bound to find some mar-super-ial bargains. As well as a pouch-standing selection of chutneys and relishes, there are also piles of pottery-roos and lollihops for the kids.

    You might even find a snazzy jumpsuit for that special joey in your life. I tried my best to spend up a storm but, unfortunately, my cheque bounced.

    Gangaroo activity

    Australians roo-lly love their massive marsupials. Matilda the Kangaroo lives a few hours away in Traveston, while Rooey II can be found in Border Village, South Australia. You can have a devil of a time with the Big Tassie Devil down in Mole Creek. And there’s a plethora of koalas, with furbabies in Salt Ash, Doonside and Port Macquarie.

    The towering critters have certainly scurried their way into my heart and so, overcome by lust, I bunkered down inside Kat’s pouch to start a new life. I allowed myself to fantasise about living inside her, safe and warm, the world’s frigid tendrils unable to reach me betwixt her sun-kissed wooden panels.

    It was not to be, and I was plucked from her womb by a couple of burly security guards shortly thereafter. Too bad, I thought I’d finally found a kanga-room with a view!

  • Katey Seagull, Tugun, QLD

    Katey Seagull, Tugun, Queensland, Australia

    Put the hot chips away, because the Gold Coast has been taken over by a behemoth beach chicken with an amazing appetite. Fortunately, Katey Seagull is as hungry for hugs as she is for deep-fried potatoes.

    Named after glamorous Married… With Children actress Katey Sagal, this super-sized seabird has made her nest out front of the Tugun Domestic and Commercial Waste Facility. Leggy Katey was crafted from recycled metal that’s been allowed to rust, giving her a weathered, world-weary demeanour. Seagull, that is, not Sagal – who simply doesn’t seem to age!

    The towering tern is extremely welcom-wing to strangers and has a flappy-go-lucky attitude. Sea-ing really is beak-lieving, so why not pop in for a flight-hearted conversation? I’m talon you, though, Katey can be a bit gull-ible at times – teehee!

    Feather you want to squawk about it or not, I suspect fowl play!

    The Big Seagull’s sensitive, reflective nature has, unfortunately, made her an easy target for local bullies. Gee golly, I know what that feels like. Upon first encountering Katey, I made the un-pheasant discovery that hoodlums had placed a bright orange witch’s hat over the bird’s majestic rostrum.

    Small things amuse small minds, but this act of bigotry could have ended in tragedy. Not only did the cone leave the well-proportioned creature looking peck-uliar, but it prevented her from eating and drinking. I reached her just in time. Who knows what would have happened had that awful hat remained upon her for even one more minute?

    “Yeah, that was some of the local punks,” a gruff garbageman informed me, before casting aside his carefully-curated tough guy image to allow himself to fall, weeping, into my arms. “They just won’t stop putting those cones on her beak!”

    When I find the perverts responsible – and I can assure you I will – I’ll waste no time inserting a witch’s hat somewhere very unpleasant indeed. Trust me, it shan’t be on their noses!

  • The Man on the Bike, Tallebudgera, QLD

    The Man on the Bike, Tallebudgera, Queensland, Australia

    The Man on the Bike has been the heart and soul of the Tallebudgera Valley for more than four decades, and anyone who says otherwise is pedalling misinformation.

    The dapper gentleman, complete with boater and bowtie, coasted into the Gold Coast in 1970 when the tandem of Cliff Douglas and shock jock Bob Rogers bought him from a ski school. I guess he could snow longer handle the cold winters.

    And what a monument to the strength and temerity of the local population he’s proven to be! Perched proudly atop his vintage penny-farthing, the Man can be seen by all who approach the roundabout he watches over, many of whom circle several times to admire their hero, causing serious traffic congestion.

    The locals had another larger-than-life legend to lolligag over the day that I, the inimitable Bigs Bardot, turned up to for this exclusive photo shoot. Wanting me to feel like part of the community, I was greeted to hearty calls of, “Get off the f***ing road!” and, “Die you lycra-wearing scum!” by passing drivers.

    I’ve never felt so welcome in my life.

    Feel the burn!

    It’s been quite a ride for The Man on the Bike, with more ups and downs than a stage of the Tour de Mudgeeraba. Most notably, his admirers were left sui-cycle when, in 2014, a gang of unchained lunatics decided to be wheely mean by setting the Man alight.

    The statue was burnt to the ground and Tallebudgerans – many of whom are re-tyre-ees – were forced to consult cycle-ologists to deal with the trauma. The wheels, however, were soon in motion to rebuild this bicycling bad boy.

    Like Cadel Evans rising from the ashes during the penultimate stage of the 2011 Tour de France to gazump Andy Schleck on his way to becoming the oldest post-World War II winner of the iconic race (and the only one from Katherine), The Man on the Bike exhibited the determination and return from oblivion – with a little help from his support crew.

    “It has been an icon to Tallebudgera for years and we want it looking good,” spokes-man Warwick Lawson told a gathering of enthralled well-wishers during a fundraiser. “It is a point of reference. You say to any local the ‘man on the bike’ and they know where it is right away.”

    If not, you might be up the creek without a saddle!

    A crust-see attraction!

    There’s quite a peloton of giant pushies these days, with the Big Bicycle in Chullora and A Life’s Ride over in Sacramento. It appears that the world will never tyre of these types of monuments!

    And so, it seems, that all roads in the valley lead towards the Man on the Bike and the pizza shop named in his honour. It’s not unusual to find lycra-clad bike-sexuals, legs shaved, helmets strapped firmly to heads despite the low probability of collisions, chowing down on the restaurant’s famous pepperoni pizzas.

    I’m not sure what they cost, but it couldn’t be much more than a penny farthing.

  • Maddie and Mike, Southport, QLD

    Maddie and Mike, Southport, Queensland, Australia

    The mournful cry of a kookaburra swept across the frozen valley, and then the world was blanketed by deep, velvety silence.

    Within our lonely cabin, a carefully-prepared platter of calamari linguine lay restlessly upon the kitchen table, unloved and cooling as the interminable minutes ticked by. Gordon Shumway, my lifelong partner and bosom friend, was late home from work again. Welcome to the worst days of my life.

    And so I sat, wine glass in hand, and waited. Finally, as the moon climbed through the clouds towards its apex, the front door creaked open and a tiny alien stumbled into the cabin’s milky light.

    The sweet stench of buttermilk schnapps heavy on his breath, Gordon lurched towards his dinner. I stood in silence and scraped the cold, yet probably still quite delicious, pasta into the bin for dramatic effect. The distance between Gordon and I seemed to open up like a vast chasm.

    “You probably drowned it in garlic aioli anyway,” Gordon spat, his cruel taunt slicing through me like the precision-made Wüsthof knives we’d received as a gift during happier times. “Subtlety never was your forte, Bigs.”

    “What happened to us, Gordon?” I asked, struggling to mask the wobble in my voice. “There was a time when we could lay beneath the stars, your furry body in my powerful arms, and just talk. Now we can barely be in the same room together.”

    “I think…” Gordon’s words trailed off as he turned away in a futile attempt to hide the tears swelling in his chocolatey eyes.

    “You think what, Gordon? You think what?”

    “I think we should see other people.”

    The little alien’s big words hung in the air like dewdrops on a spring morning. Now it was I who turned away, not wanting to show weakness, hoping only to cloak the destruction that had swept across my face. Deep down I’d been expecting these words for a long time, but they still shattered my very soul. Hours seemed to pass, and I found myself holding him in a rare sign of affection.

    “Alright, Gordon,” I sighed, pressing my forehead against his. “Let’s see how it works out.”

    When Gordon Met Mike

    It was, perhaps, inevitable that Mike would steal Gordon’s heart. The metre-tall teddy bear is super cute, extremely sassy, and designed by Academy Award winner John Cox. In other words, everything a diminutive alien could ever dream of – and everything I’m not.

    Gordon was in an excitable mood as he groomed himself for his first playdate with Mike, and I even helped him pick out the perfect tunic. It might sound strange, but preparing him for another man brought us closer than we’d been in months. I was just happy for his happiness.

    The sun seemed to shine a little brighter as we wandered through Southport’s flourishing Broadwater Parklands, which is also home to Geckomania! and Blue Perspective. Gordon was nervous, enlivened and boisterous all at once, and I loved him for it.

    “I hope Mike likes my shirt,” he kept saying.

    As we swaggered past a clutch of clusterberries, Gordon took my hands in his and leant in close. “Thanks for supporting me through this, Bigs, it means the world to me,” he whispered. “But there’s one thing I didn’t tell you. This is a double date.”

    It was at that moment I saw her, as we crested a knoll, and my life was forever changed. A giant girl, sunhat on head, wistful grin on face, eternally staring out at the ocean. I loved her before we’d even met.

    “Her name’s Maddie. I thought you might like her. Run along and say hi.”

    When Bigs Met Maddie

    Maddie, with her big, blue eyes and feminine wiles, is not the type I’m usually attracted to. You’re more likely to find me on the arm of a muclebound tradie like Ernie the Shepparton Giant, or with a bearded bad boy like Ned Kelly. Women, even those who are 2.5-metres tall whilst sitting, just aren’t my cup of tea.

    I’m not too proud to admit to envying Maddie’s lithe frame and luxurious locks. Her eternal youth – forever seven years old, despite being created in 2010 – tormented me. Maddie’s one of the most beautiful Bigs on the planet, and I felt inadequate in comparison. I also yearned for the instant attraction and easy repartee that was so evident between Gordon and Mike.

    But, as Maddie and I watched our significant others cosying up to each other, an unbreakable bond formed between us. Maddie proved to be wise beyond her years, with a cheeky sense of humour and a devilish wit. She loves Mike just as I love Gordon, and by the end of the playdate it felt like we were just one big family.

    As the sun set behind the Gold Coast’s rolling hills, I took a very tired, very satisfied Gordon into my arms. The four of us embraced, and I whispered into Maddie’s ear that I loved her. And then we were gone. Gordon and I, on our long journey back to that cabin in the valley.

    “Hey Bigs,” Gordon said sleepily as our moped bumbled along, “can you make that seafood linguini for dinner tonight? You know it’s my favourite.”

    “Of course, Gordon. You know I love you.”

    “I love you too, Bigs.”

  • The Big Guitar, Surfers Paradise, QLD

    The Big Guitar, Surfers Paradise, Queensland, Australia

    “While My Big Guitar Gently Weeps”

    I look at the Hard Rock Cafe, see the people there eating
    While my Big Guitar gently weeps
    My love for him will not be fleeting
    Still my Big Guitar gently weeps

    I don’t know why nobody told you
    The Guitar was installed in ’96
    It cost half-a-million to mould you
    I long to hold you

    In 2004 I noticed the Big Guitar was burning
    Yes, my Big Guitar gently weeps
    Within a few months, he was returning
    Still my Big Guitar gently weeps

    I don’t know how you were alerted
    That my efforts to play with you were concerted, too
    Please don’t say that I’m perverted
    I just really want to pluck you

    I look with joy at how well you’re ageing
    While my Big Guitar gently weeps
    My lust for your tight little tuning pegs is raging
    Alright, maybe I am a creep

    Love all, serve… well, no one

    The Hard Rock Cafe shut down in 2022, but I’m going to pull a few strings to ensure the 10-metre-tall Big Guitar remains a Surfers Paradise icon for generations to come. Some call me a hero, but I prefer to be known simply as the inimitable Bigs Bardot, the Greatest Friend the Big Things of Australia have ever known. You’re welcome.

    Vale The Big Guitar

    It’s with a heavy heart that I report The Big Guitar was torn down in March 2023, almost immediately after my enquiries. Perhaps my standing within the Gold Coast business community isn’t as robust as I thought it was. Oh well, there’s always The Big Banjos in Kin Kin!

    Vale The Big Banjos in Kin Kin

    Oops!

  • The Big Octopus, Surfers Paradise, QLD

    Ring-O, The Big Octopus, Surfers Paradise, Queensland, Australia

    Believe it or not! The Gold Coast is home to the largest octopus in the whole dang world! Ladies and jellyfish, please welcome Ring-O, starr of the glitter strip!

    The nine-metre-wide Big Octopus wiggled into Cavill Avenue, Surfers Paradise, in Octo-ber 2020, making a home for himself above the popular Ripley’s Believe It Or Not! odditorium. He was cephala-produced by local company Pico-Play, and I ink their work deserves a ten-tacle out of ten!

    It took 40 dedicated staff members more than four months to build the two-tonne tyrant. Ring-O was made from fabricated steel to help him ward off the harsh Queensland sun. Maybe they should’ve added a Big Bottle of Sunscreen to help him out!

    Unlike the deadly blue-ringed octopuses he’s modelled after, this handsome chap will only kill you with cuteness. Yes, Ring-O is a tenta-cool dude and doesn’t have a bad bone in his body…. or any bones at all, actually!

    Just look at him with his surfboard, ready to hit the waves and hang ten… or eight, in his case!

    Watch out! He’s armed and fabulous!

    Whilst his namesake, pop desperado Ringo Starr, may play the drums, this rock-topus prefers the guitar – the Big Guitar up the street, that is. Not surprisingly, this eight-legged legend is also mates with Bigfoot, who lives a short walk up the road (and an even shorter walk for Bigfoot, as his feet are so big!).

    And like many new Gold Coasters, the Big Octopus has family in Victoria. In Ring-O’s case, it’s the quirky Big Octopus in Lakes Entrance. I bet these octopods just eight being apart!

    Adults and squids alike enjoy taking a cheeky cephy with this marvellous mollusc. I’m a sucker for a photo op, so asked one of the famous Meter Maids to snap a photo of me with the slimy sweetheart. I tried to Act Naturally with Ring-O but was, of course, completely overcome by lust.

    “You octopi my every thought, will you cala-marry me?” I squirted, but Ring-O remained silent, forever waving his arms in the air. He may have three hearts but, sadly, none of them will ever beat for me.

    We’re o-fishi-ially over, Ring-O :'(

  • Geckomania, Southport, QLD

    Geckomania, Southport, Queensland, Australia

    The Gold Coast is all about sun, surf and squamates, because the city’s been seized by a set of bug-eyed bad boys who love laying the smackdown on each other. Welcome to Geckomania!

    These beaut newts are in a three-way battle to become the Heavyweight Champion of Your Heart. I’m not sure what style of wrestling they’re practising, but I’d assume it’s Gecko-Roman.

    The suave saurians can be seen sparring next to a set of swings and see-saws in Southport’s Broadwater Parklands. A whole day can be serpent salameandering through the gardens, exploring the playgrounds and admiring the gentle ocean. You might even meet Bigfoot, Blue Perspective and the dynamic duo of Maddie & Mike.

    The Big Geckos were being reno-snake-ted when I visited, with a friendly chap giving them a much-needed lick of paint. Apparently, this is done go-annually. Unfortunately, it also meant I was unable to climb atop their strapping physiques to serve a devastating piledriver. Ah well, there’s always next time.

    The Wonderful Lizards of Oz

    Australians sure are obsessed with voluminous lizards. In fact, there are more of these cold-blooded cuties than you can shake a detached tail at.

    There’s Dirrawuhn down the road in Lismore, Joanna the Goanna in Taree, and Frilly in Somersby. You can also find the Big Water Dragon in Port Mac, a Thorny Devil of epic proportions in the nation’s capital, and more crocs than you can shake a German tourist at in the Top End.

    Feeling faaaaaaabulous? Then it’s about damn time to visit Lizzo!

    Nowhere else, however, is it possible to see a bunch of geckos suplexing each other for your amusement. I’m pretty sure I even saw one of them put his opponent in a Boston crab! I just hope these ‘rasslin’ rascals don’t resort to bopping each other over the head with chairs.

    I skink they’re wonderful and iguana go back and visit them one day! Sure, they might get a bad rap-tile, but stay calm-eleon because the Big Geckos are aphibi-amazing!

  • Bigfoot, Surfers Paradise, QLD

    Bigfoot, Surfers Paradise, Queensland, Australia

    Bigfoot is sick of hiding, and has retired to an exclusive beachside chateau on the Gold Coast.

    The legendary monster now spends his days perusing the local tattoo dens, dodging drunks in Cavill Avenue and tanning himself to a crisp on Surfers Paradise beach.

    Bigfoot’s Cave can be found in the midst of the verdant McIntosh Island Park, and can be reached via a baroque bridge that spans a bubbling brook. Just sasq-watch your step so you don’t fall in the water.

    The cave makes a cute location for a photo but, like many apartments in the area, doesn’t have a lot of space. He won’t be inviting his friends the GeckoMania, The King of Atlantis, Ring-O and Maddie & Mike over for a housewarming anytime soon, then!

    Never one to conform to social norms and always at the cutting edge of fashion, Bigfoot sports glamorous black nail polish on his famous footsies. If you’re wondering whether his penchant for personal grooming has also led to a Brazilian wax, I can assure you it has not.

    There’s nothing abominable about this hirsute heartthrob, and he’s now the toes-t of the town. And you know what they say about a man with big feet – he must be a Big Thing!

  • The Big Apple, Acacia Ridge, QLD

    The Big Apple, Acacia Ridge, Queensland, Australia

    Bright red and perfectly spherical, the Acacia Ridge Big Apple lures in unsuspecting visitors with the promise of a wholesome photo opportunity. But be warned, because this scarlet woman is rotten to the core.

    Disarmingly located in a suburban car park, the innocent-looking treat is surrounded by a dog-grooming salon and a well-stocked ethnic supermarket. It’s an idyllic slice of Australiana – or so I thought.

    Preening for my photos, I spied a sign beneath the Big Apple advertising a nearby Adult Store. I’m an adult, so I gleefully trotted inside to hunt for magnets, stickers and puffy pens dedicated to the Big Apple.

    Not only was my search for cute souvenirs a fruitless one, but I found myself thrust into a world of decadence and depravity from which I feared I would never escape.

    A real bad apple

    The stench of sweat and desperation marinated through me well before my eyes were able to adjust to the dank boutique. A true den of iniquity, the Naked Passion Adult Store boasted grotesque silicone totems that were confronting for their bulbous, vaguely human shapes, and startling size.

    Honestly, some people need to get a life! Who needs an enormous rubber fist when Ally the Alpaca and the Big Pie are nearby and begging to be explored?

    I was tempted by the questionable pleasures of edible underpants, a concept which is at once unsanitary and vaguely silly. The texture of the garments proved oddly off-putting and the flavour – cranberry – slightly metallic. I also found their durability to be left wanting, with a pair unlikely to make it through a big day of hunting Big Things.

    To my dismay the leather swings hanging from the ceiling were impractical, uncomfortable and lacking any sort of recognised safety accreditation. What a shame!

    There was even something called erotic body chocolate. Let me tell you, there was nothing erotic about the stains it left on my fashionable tunic when it finally came time for me to redress.

    Fed up with this crass display of debauchery, I asked the chubby little man behind the counter whether he had anything for someone obsessed with big fruits. He nodded knowingly and led me through a secret door and along a narrow, dark hallway lined with dated carpet that clung to my feet as I walked.

    The temperature seemed to rise as we walked, so my skin was slick with sweat by the time the rotund fellow unlocked a heavy deadbolt and pushed me, whimpering, into the unknown space beyond.

    An apple a day keeps their clothes away

    What I witnessed that Tuesday afternoon will haunt me until my final breath. The dungeon was packed to overflowing with heavy-set gentlemen wearing bizarre fancy dress costumes, if anything at all. None of them seemed appropriately attired for a visit to a Big Thing and, if they were carrying any souvenirs or nik-naks, they had them very well hidden.

    My attempts to engage the perverts in conversation about the history of the Big Apple were met with scorn, and their knowledge of the social and cultural significance of roadside attractions seemed limited at best.

    Fortunately the generous array of snacks on offer were delicious – the guacamole dip in particular was superb – and I quite enjoyed whipping a heavily-tattooed gentleman who bore a striking resemblance to my stepfather Craig.

    Why couldn’t you accept me, Craig? I was just a boy!

    Even the deranged cackles of “Hey Bigs, show us your Big Banana!” and “Hey Bigs, is that the World’s Tallest Tin Soldier in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” became less threatening with time.

    When I eventually stumbled out into the fading twilight several hours later, I was seeing the world through different eyes. Those creepy men aren’t not so different from me, wandering this cold blue planet, lonely and afraid, seeking comfort and love in the most unusual places.

    Sure, their journeys involve casual sex in public toilets whilst mine climax with a super cute photo of a massive Brussels spout or chook, but you get the point.

    I may have changed, but the Big Apple, that crimson beacon of hope lighting up the outskirts of southern Brisbane, remained the same. I smiled, climbed atop my scooter, and rode off into the sunset.

  • Ally the Alpaca, One Mile, QLD

    Ally the Alpaca, One Mile, Queensland, Australia

    Dropping the little ones off at pre-school is a heart-wrenching experience for any parent. But the mummies and daddies of Ipswich can rest easy in the knowledge their kiddies are being cared for by a bizarre giraffe/alpaca/human hybrid with a stylish bob.

    Ally the Alpaca is the star employee at Ally’s Kindy in the trendy suburb of One Mile, and is the wackiest Big Thing in Australia. Passersby and students alike could be forgiven for thinking they’ve missed their afternoon nap or are suffering the heady effects of guzzling too much red cordial.

    Despite this, her slender neck, chubby cheeks and sultry eyelashes are impossible to resist. She draws in admirers of all ages, teaching them the joys of being body-positive. Casting aside the shackles of gender and species conformity, Ally provides little ones with a valuable lesson in diversity.

    Ally was al-packaged together by Natureworks, the savants responsible for Frilly the Lizard, the Big Thorny Devil and the Big Koala Family.

    “Recently Ally’s Kindy near Ipswich asked for Natureworks’ help to put them on the map,” an excitable spokesperson revealed. “We started by taking their logo, which was a cartoon character of a friendly alpaca, and sculpted a larger-than-life version of its head. We then morphed its head onto our six-metre giraffe body and gave it a repaint.”

    There’s no doubt about it, this llama is a charmer!

    Long, tall Ally

    My playmate Gordon Shumway was acting like a big baby during our trip to One Mile, due to the decline in value of his Ethereum portfolio.

    I needed a break from his antics so I could enjoy a slice of something naughty and a good gossip with the girls in Ipswich, so I dropped Gordon off at Ally’s. The service, not surprisingly, was impeccable, and I was reassured that the little alien was in safe hands.

    Barely had I tucked into a decadent serving of red velvet cake when my phone rang. I reluctantly pulled myself away from one of the girls’ enthralling – and really quite graphic – retelling of an encounter with local heartthrob Fernando, only to be told to come pick up Gordon immediately.

    I arrived at the kindergarten, the sweet memories of buttermilk and cocoa resting heavy upon my lips, to find a dejected Gordon sitting in the gutter alone. My heart broke for my tiny friend. Ally’s expression, usually so whimsical, had become one of disdain.

    “Why won’t they accept me, man?” Gordon whimpered as we drove away, a single tear rolling down his furry face.

    “Spending our lives surrounded by Bigs, with their kind hearts and non-judgemental attitudes, means we live within an echo chamber of unconditional love. But the world can be a harsh place and many people still aren’t ready for those of us who challenge their binary ideals.”

    “Yeah, and I also tried to eat their pet cat.”

    As we cruised through the idyllic suburbs of South Brisbane, Gordon was unusually quiet. Eventually, as we pulled into his favourite El Savadoran restaurant, the little alien placed his hand upon mine and gave me a wry smile.

    “Bigs, do you think I have a shot with Ally?”

    “Gordon,” I chuckled. “Ally has great legs, but she’s too tall for you.”

  • The Camira Critters, Camira, QLD

    The Camira Critters, Camira, Queensland, Australia

    Howdy pardner, this is your hat-wearing hawtie Biggie the Kid! I don’t mind a cockatoo, so when word rang round the holler that a gang of giant birds was causin’ trouble out near Ipswich, I jumped on my trusty stead Liberace and moseyed on out to the badlands of Camira.

    The settlement’s welcome sign has long been a thing of cotton-pickin’ beauty, and a source of pride for the natives. By the time I arrived, it had been well and truly overrun by ne’er-do-wells. There was a colossal kookaburra, a prodigious possum and yes – a real hard-lookin’ cocky.

    Ladies and gentlemen, I had run afoul of the notorious Camira Critters.

    It’s not often a fella finds three Big Things nestled so roody-poo close together. When it comes to big, strong, handsome native gentlemen, being outnumbered three-to-one are just the odds this cowboy likes – yeehaw!

    Cocky, Awesome Possum and Kooks – as their legion of admirers know them – aren’t the largest Bigs around, but are handsome enough to make up for it. Several empty poles pointed to the possibility of more gang members, but they didn’t appear. I was half expectin’ a Big Single Mother or a Big Toothless Bogan. It was Ipswich, after all!

    The Good, the Bad and the Cuddly

    I swaggered upon the critters, all tough and rough and overflowin’ with machismo. Unholstered my Kodak Instamatic. Spat a thick wad of Hubba Bubba on the dusty ground, then thought better of it and wrapped it in a small sheeth of paper before carefully disposing of it in the nearest bin.

    “Boys, boys, boys,” I snarled, peering at them with eyes so blue they would make the devil himself run and hide. “I’m going to have to capture you – for a photo! Three of you is guilty of bein’ just too darn cute!”

    Posing majestically with the gang in the wilting light of a Queensland afternoon, a ruckus tore through Camira’s tranquil bushland. Suddenly a coupé utility vehicle – or a ‘ute’, as the natives call it – came to a screeching halt in front of myself and my new friends. We watched in silence as four large, heavily-tattooed scoundrels climbed out, their mullets flapping in the light breeze.

    They were trouble personified. Hate warmed up. A cyclone of bigotry in flanelette shirts.

    The dawn of a new Camira

    “You with this galah?” the leader asked, pointing at the oversized animals. There was a sneer on his face that could darken the brightest day, and his flunkies howled like a pack of deranged baboons.

    “Actually, he’s a cockatoo,” I replied gallantly. “But yeah, we’re bosom buddies – what are you gonna do ’bout it, amigo?”

    “We was just wonderin’ whether there was any other massive creatures like ’em,” one of the toughs said shyly, kicking at the dirt. I realised that their hyper-aggressive display of toxic masculinity was a mask for their love of Big Things.

    “Of course, my passive-aggressive pal. There’s a gaggle of giant native birds in Queensland, such as Pete, the Big Parrot, and the nearby Big Honeyeater. And y’see that possum there?”

    “How could I miss, him, padre? He’s several times the size of a regular ring-tailed possum.”

    “There are many other mega marsupials scampering around Australia, such as Matilda the Kangaroo, the Big Koala and the Big Tassie Devil.

    “Aw shucks, Biggie,” piped up another gang banger, scribbling into a small notebook. “The only thing bigger than these animals is our love and respect for you.”

    The brutes snapped a series of playful photos with their hero – the one and only Biggie the Kid – before piling back into their coupé utility vehicle and cruising peacefully into the inky twilight.

    Silence descended upon the roadside, and I prepared to say my goodbye to the gang. Kissing the possum on his ring-tail, I climbed atop Liberace once again and reflected upon the lessons I’d learnt. Not all gang-related activity is detrimental to the community. One should never judge a book by its cover, nor a Queenslander by the cut of his mullet.

    And a handsome cowboy, raised on a steady diet of ultraviolence and and fear, can learn the meaning of love.

  • The Big Honeyeater, Logan Reserve, QLD

    The Big Blue-Faced Honeyeater, Logan reserve, Queensland, Australia

    I believe I can fly
    I believe I can kiss this big guy
    I think about Big Blue every night and day
    His handsome wings take my breath away
    I believe he wants more
    Cuddlin’ each other till we’re both sore
    I believe I can fly
    I believe Big Blue’s all mine
    I believe he’s my guy (wooooooo)

    The words of urban visionary R-Kelly resonate with visitors to The Big Blue-Faced Honeyeater, who really will make you believe you can fly.

    This superbly-detailed Big is perched outside the Sequana housing development in trendy Logan Reserve, giving the residents a birds-eye view of his feathery loveliness.

    As twilight settles over this little slice of heaven, the air rings out with calls of, “Honeyeater, I’m home!” It’s no coincidence, therefore, that housing prices in the village are 13.7 percent higher than surrounding, Big Thing-free suburbs.

    Sure, nearby Marsden has a vibrant culinary scene, some of the state’s most respected educational institutions and a range of sprawling, yet immaculately-maintained parks and reserves. But without a Big Thing to call their own, the locals might as well be living in the slums of Mumbai.

    I don’t want your money, Honey, I want your love!

    Blue-faced honeyeaters are native to Logan, although they rarely grow to such epic proportions. It’s not uncommon to witness a clutch of ‘bananabirds’ nestled atop their oversized amigo. What can I say, who doesn’t enjoy a night out with a bigger bird?

    Though generally amicable, honeyeaters are known to violently attack intruders such as goannas and dogs – the perfect security system. Not surprisingly, there have been remarkably few lizard-related ransackings of homes since the winged wonder was installed a few years ago.

    Australians have fallen in plover – oops, I mean in love! – with giant birds. There’s the leggy Stanley the Emu in Lightning Ridge. The wise, yet delightfully chubby Chinute Chinute in Darwin. The Big Chook in Western Sydney and his cousin, Charlie, in Newcastle. And waddled we do without Tasmania’s Big Penguin?

    Oh yeah, and Pelican Pete is just up the road from Big Blue in Noosa – I can’t beak-lieve I forgot about him! The Honeyeater, however, might just be the sweetest of them all.

    Honestly, I could chirp this friendly fowl’s praises until, like him, I’m blue in the face!

  • The Big Pie, Yatala, QLD

    The Big Pie, Yatala, Queensland, Australia

    Feeling famished on the long trip between Brisbane and the Gold Coast? Then bake a stop in Yatala for the best snacks money can pie. The pastries from world famous Yatala Pies receive g-rave-y reviews and are truly to pie for!

    This crust-see attraction is easy to spot – just keep a pie out for the super-sized snack out the front, which sits atop a towering 10 metre s-pie-ke. The iconic Big Pie was served up in the late ’70s, and has been luring in pie-curious passers-pie ever since. This is one pie you just have to meat, and I have a filling you’ll love it!

    Sadly, this cultural landmark is in a state of disrepair and is in danger of being lost amongst a thicket of trees. I’d give it between Four’n Twenty months until he’s totally covered up. And we all know that the only thing that should cover Australia’s national food is a delicious dollop of tomato sauce!

    The 4.5-metre-wide Big Pie is also difficult to take a photo with due to his orientation, facing up and out towards the freeway, rather than his legion of fans beneath his flaky rump. If the owners don’t do something to fix the situation, I’ll be quite pie-rate!

    Despite these failures, Yatala Pies has been operating for over 140 years, and now serve up an un-pie-lievable 3500 treats every day. That’s past-really impressive!

    There’s plenty to keep you occu-pied!

    Casting my keto diet aside in my pursuit of investigative journalism, I swaggered into Yatala Pies and gasped in awe at the size of the menu. Curried chicken, BBQ pork and mushroom mornay pies overwhelmed me, along with a delicious range of sausage rolls, hot chips, pavlovas and apple pies.

    The restaurant, of course, has vegetarian snacks available for pie-chase – the nearby Big Cow will be pleased!

    I like a man who can work a tool, so I opted for a big, tough tradie pie. Sadly, a tradie doesn’t come with it, but the sumptuous blend of steak, bacon, cheese, tomato and egg was just what I needed to power my endless quest for Big Things.

    Good-pie for now!

  • The Big Red Belly, Maudsland, QLD

    The Big Red Belly, Maudsland, Queensland, Australia

    Do you have a viper-active child with heaps of ser-pent-up energy? Want to put a great big reptile on their face? Maybe you’re just after a quiet spot to sit and enjoy a meat pie-thon? Then give the Big Red Belly a try-pan!

    Located in sprawling Gibirrngaan Park within Maudsland’s exclusive Huntington Estates (which, sadly, doesn’t offer anaconda-miniums), the Big Red Bellied Black Snake is surrounded by stunning gardens and play equipment. There are even slides and swings for the asp-iring gymnasts.

    Unlike his cold-blooded cousins, who are amongst the most dangerous snakes on the planet, this concrete colossus is cute and congenial. He welcomes kiddies to climb atop his handsome head, and it’s even possible to perform a-cobra-batics off his tube-like body.

    The adder-ly adorable Big Red Belly was boa-constructed in 2018 by the team at Urban Play, and really is a venom-ust see next time you’re on the Gold Coast. Yeah, forget the world class beaches, fruity nightlife and thrilling theme parks, because this ophidian-credible park in Maudsland is the new centre of the universe.

    Though not as gob-smackingly huge as Gubulla Munda in Ayr, this verte-great big snake is no limb-less impressive. Yes, he’s one in a reptilian, but if you have a foot fetish, you might prefer The Big Thorny Devil in Canberra or Dirrawuhn the Goanna in Lismore.

    The Big Red Belly sure is un-hisssss-able!

    A WORD OF WARNING: It’s not a great idea to ask the children of Maudsland if they’d like to ‘come to the park to see a great big snake’. Thank you to the local constabulary for rescuing me from what would have been a fairly unpleasant public lynching at the hands of the enraged locals.

  • The Big Wheelie Bin, Helensvale, QLD

    The Big Wheelie Bin, Helensvale, Queensland, Australia

    I’ve bin everywhere, man, I’ve bin everywhere! But few places can rival the majesty and mystique of Helensvale Waste & Recycling Centre – home of the Otto-ly delightful Big Wheelie Bin.

    At a dump-foundingly impressive three metres tall, the Bin is wheelie easy to find in the heart of the Gold Coast. He’s fun for Big Thing enthusiasts of all garb-ages, so bring the whole family – yes, even your aunts and junk-les!

    Here’s a hot tip – you can dump your dead car batteries there, it’s free of charge. That’s an offer you can’t refuse. You might even consider composting a song about the Big Bin, just don’t include any dirty lyrics!

    Scrap any plans you have of tossing Big Things like the Big Bowerbird, Big Kookaburra, Murray the Cod and the fowl-smelling Chickaletta into the Wheelie Bin, though. Sure, they’re made up of discarded odds and ends, but aren’t ready to become landfill just yet!

    Entry to the facility is litter-ally free, which is great if you’re trash-strapped at the moment. You might even be able to jump on your bike and re-cycle out there. Don’t waste this opportunity to lift the lid on the Big Wheelie Bin!

    A word of warning

    As I was posing for these cheeky photos I was approached by a burly gentleman in a high-visibility jacket, who sequestered me away to the facility’s security office.

    Apparently the Helensvale Waste & Recycling Centre is a major spoke in Southeast Queensland’s world-renowned rubbish removal system, and the photos I’d taken of myself dancing with The Big Wheelie Bin posed a risk to national security.

    The site supervisor was, thankfully, very understanding of the situation and allowed me to leave without deleting my photos or popping me on a clandestine security watch list. Sometimes I rub-wish people would just leave me alone!

  • The Big Pineapple, Gympie, QLD

    The Big Pineapple, Gympie, Queensland

    Trigger warning: the following article contains information and photos of a deceased Big Thing, that you may find distressing. But it also contains a super cute photo of a very young Bigs Bardot wearing a gorgeous pink hat, so it all balances out.

    Gympie was, for a time, the most desirable tourist destination on the planet. Hollywood stars and tech billionaires bypassed Bora Bora as they made their way to this dusty regional centre, three hours north of Brisbane. And it was all because of the Big Pineapple.

    Nicolas Cage and Lisa Marie Presley were married at the top and divorced by the time they reached the bottom. Steve Jobs named his company after the Pineapple (dropping the first part of the name due to memory limitations). Even The Gimp from Pulp Fiction was named after Gympie – and you’ll notice his leather tunic sports a distinctive pineapple texture.

    Sadly this statuesque Queensland icon was demolished in 2008, taking with her the five-star resorts and the nightclubs that seemed as if they would never close. It also brought a crashing halt her decades-long rivalry with the nearby Woombye Pineapple.

    Both were completed in 1971, both were 16 metres tall, and the bitter feud threatened to tear the Sunshine State apart. The Woombye team bragged theirs was taller, so the Gympie gang claimed theirs was wider. One side noted theirs had more realistic texturing, so the other boasted theirs had a more authentic shape.

    One was cuter, the other sexier. Spikier. More eco-friendly. Yellower! Greener! Lifelong friendships ended in the shadows of these two bright-yellow Big Things. Families were torn apart. Blood, tragically, was spilled.

    An apple is a pineapple

    Young Bigs Bardot didn’t care about the squabbling, because I just loved both Big Pineapples so much. The day this photo was taken was one of the happiest of my life, even though I wasn’t allowed to have a grilled pineapple like the other children. Sadly, I was also abandoned at the base of the giant fruit by my adopted family after I spent too long cuddling it.

    It was my fault, really.

    Eight days later I was discovered, huddling in the Pineapple’s crown, surviving on half-sucked pineapple-shaped lollies and the remnants of a pineapple-flavoured snow cone. I had come to see the Gympie Pineapple as a mother figure, my protector and only friend, and it was with great trauma that I was wrenched from her supple bosom.

    The community dubbed me ‘The Little Pineapple’ as they fruitlessly attempted to find me a new family. However, potential foster families found it difficult to bond with a boy who believed himself to be a sweet, tropical fruit. They would find me half-buried in the backyard, begging to be sliced into rings and placed on a hamburger. Like the icon I was named after, the locals eventually lost interest in me, and I was left to rot.

    Fortunately, unlike the Big Pineapple I wasn’t knocked over by a wrecking ball, and was instead quietly removed from my care home and left to fend for myself in this cold, emotionless world. Still, I won’t allow any of that to sully my wonderful memories of the gorgeous Gympie Pineapple.

  • The Big Girl, Eumundi, QLD

    The Big Girl, Eumundi, Queensland

    Big Girls don’t cry, but I’m man enough to admit I was reduced to a blubbering mess after an encounter with this fifteen-foot female. Not even a few jars of homemade chutney and pair of happy pants from the nearby Eumundi Markets could settle me down.

    Officially known as For You, she’s the work of local artist Meg Geer, who installed the Big Girl in 2018. This thoughtful piece is dedicated to those who have lived through the horrors of war. It is with the innocence of children, Meg argues, that those of us who have lived peaceful lives offer up our gratitude.

    The Big Girl features a timeless, minimalist aesthetic that allows one to focus solely on her message. Nobody can accuse her of being two-faced – in fact, she doesn’t have a face at all!

    With such innocence and naiveté, perhaps the Big Girl needs an older roadside attraction to guide her as she blossoms into a woman. The Wo-Man, perhaps? Or maybe the nearby Pete the Pelican could take her under his wing!

    When I was a child myself, my stepfather and several of my more boisterous step-siblings would regularly call me a big girl. It was traumatising at the time, of course, but since my dalliance with the Big Girl I wear such comments as a badge of honour. I, Bigs Bardot, am a big girl and proud of it.

    Big Girls just want to have fun!

    As I was fraternising with the Big Girl, an acne-riddled youth rode past on his bicycle and, in a squeaky voice that sends shivers down my spine to this day, yelled, “Mate, if you love that statue so much, why don’t you marry it?”

    It took all my resolve not to push the prepubescent punk off his pushbike for disrespecting this Big. Instead, I counted backwards from 10 as my therapist taught me and calmly replied, “I would love to marry her, but it wouldn’t be recognised under Australia’s antiquated legal system.”

    By that time the youth was long gone, but I think I proved my point.

  • The Stunning Big Things of the Sunshine Coast

    Big Things are a super-sized slice of Sunshine Coast tourism, with holidaymakers thrilling to the delights of the Big Shell and Big Pelican. There are plenty of roadside attractions within a short drive of the tourist hotspot of Noosa, and they’ll put a giant smile on your face!

    Read this definitive guide to Sunshine Coast Big Things and see if you can visit them (Big) Pineap-all!

    The Big Shell, Tewantin

    The 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 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 on their doorstep. If you see them, give ’em a wave!

    Is the Big Shell worth visiting? beach your own conclusion after reading this!

    Pete the Big Pelican, Noosaville

    Big Things of the Sunshine Coast

    Next time you spread your wings and visit the Sunshine Coast, make a splash landing at Pelican Boat Hire, home of the Big Pelican! The overgrown chicken is known to his legion of admirers as Pete, and boasts an un-beak-lievable backstory. After all, how many other Big Things have spent time at the bottom of the ocean?

    Why did Pete spend time submerged in the sea? Find out here!

    The Big Pineapple, Woombye

    The Big Pineapple

    With his striking looks and worldwide fame, the Big Pineapple is a rock star of the Big Thing universe! The 16-metre-tall fruit has a pleasing pineapple museum in his belly and a viewing platform from which to look out over the nearby Big Macadamia and the thrilling Nutmobile ride. You’ll have a pine time there!

    Does this pineapple belong on a pizza? Find out here!

    The Big Child, Birtinya

    The Big Child

    You’ll be head over heels and staring in childish wonder at this eight-tonne toddler! The big baby loves tumbling outside the Sunshine Coast Health Precinct, and you’ll be feeling healthier than ever after a visit!

    Matilda, Kybong

    Matilda the Kangaroo

    Tilly bounced her way into our hearts during the 1982 Commonwealth Games, taking centre stage at the opening ceremony. The cute kangaroo flirted with the crowd, winking her long lashes as a forklift flittered her around the track. These days Tilly’s just as beautiful as ever and is in a great location for photos and hugs, after recently bounding along to the new Traviston mega service station.

    Hop along to discover more about Matilda!

    The Big Mower, Beerwah

    Tidying up the backyard is never fun, but you’ll have a cutting good time with this mega mower! You can find him at the appropriately-named Big Mower shop, where you can pick up a whipper-snipper after snapping a photo!

    Chop chop! Learn more about The Big Mower!

  • Nala the Big Whale, Hervey Bay, QLD

    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.

    Whales and Pelicans and Criminals… Oh My!

    The Queen of the Fraser Coast is just one of many Big Things in the region, with fellow water-dwellers Pete the Pelican and the Big Shell to the south, boozy buddies the Big Rum Bottle and Darrel the Barrel to the north, and the legendary Matilda a short drive inland. The suave and handsome Big Ned Kelly – often rumoured to be a suitor of Nala – is shacked up at nearby Maryborough.

    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 admirer Dickie 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?

  • The Big Mango, Bowen, QLD

    The Big Mango, Bowen, Queensland, Australia

    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!

  • The Big Bulls, Rockhampton, QLD

    The Big Bulls, Rockhampton, Queensland

    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!

  • The Big Rig, Roma, QLD

    “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.

  • Matilda the Kangaroo, Traveston, QLD

    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.

  • The Big Rum Bottle, Bundaberg, QLD

    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!

  • Darrel the Barrel, Bundaberg, QLD

    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!

  • The Big Snake, Ayr, QLD

    Gabulla Munda, Ayr, Queensland, Australia

    There was a time, long before the age of man, when enormous creatures roamed the wasteland we now call Australia. From Tiddalick the Frog to Biladurang the Platypus, these behemoths filled the rivers with water, shaped the mountain ranges, and cast the stars into the sky. Dreamtime stories, passed down through a thousand generations, keep the history of our homeland alive.

    Gubulla Munda, a carpet snake of epic proportions, has been the protector of the Birri-Gubba people of North Queensland for millennia. Now he looks after the rest of us, too! This 60-metre-long totem was built in his honour in 2004, having been designed by local indigenous artists.

    You’re unlikely to find a longer or lovelier Big Thing, or one with so much hisssss-tory behind him. I’ve met hundreds of Bigs around the world, but the sheer size of this gentleman brought me to my knees. Ironic, seeing as he doesn’t have any!

    Gubulla looks absolutely wonderful, is well cared for and regularly repainted. The snake offers so many options for fun photos, because his friends are welcome to climb all over him. Just be respectful, not only because he’s a Big, but because of the cultural implications.

    Love is in the Ayr

    The Big Snake lives in a particularly happy corner of Queensland, which is full of good viper-ations. This cobra is a cutie and subsequently snakes any journey up north worth it.

    After snapping off some photos, do take time to explore the surrounding Plantation Park before heading off to see the nearby Big Watermelon, Big Pumpkin and Big Sardine Can. The area has long been a sacred site and burial ground for the local indigenous population, and there are a number of commemorative plaques. There’s even a cafe where you can purchase a meat pie-thon.

    An afternoon with Ayr’s Big Snake is time well serpent!

  • The Big Ned Kelly, Maryborough, QLD

    The Big Ned Kelly, Maryborough, Queensland, Australia

    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!


  • The Big Cow, Highfields, QLD

    The Big Cow, Highfields, Queensland, Australia

    Have you heifer herd the udder-ly moo-diculous story about the two-story cow who become a Sunshine Coast icon, fell into a life of depravity, climbed out of the gutter to become a leader of the lost, and eventually retired to a leafy farm near beautiful Toowoomba? Yeah, I know it sounds like a load of bull, but be-hoove yourself because it’s true!

    The Big Cow was calved in 1976 in the rural village of Kulangoor, just down the road from the incredible Big Pineapple. She was the feature attraction of a working dairy farm, where visitors were able to yank a bemused animal’s boobies when not climbing inside the belly of this Big. What a delightful teat!

    Seven times taller than the Ayrshire cows she’s modelled on, the beefy beauty was created by Huge Anderson…. sorry, make that Hugh Anderson. He enjoyed the task so much that he went on to craft the Big Bulls in Rockhampton, so certainly didn’t go into it calf-hearted.

    Put Out To Pasture

    Sadly the farm was abandoned and this bo-vine-looking Big fell into disrepair, much like the Prawn and Ploddy the Dinosaur. The farm was used for a number of purposes, most notably as a halfway house for recovering drug addicts. When I visited in 2017, an aggressive man with a spider tattooed on his forehead offered me a package of illegal drugs. “Sorry,” I told him as I handed over my wallet and shoes, “my only addiction is oversized roadside attractions.”

    Whilst distressed to lose my Video Ezy membership card and collection of Tazos, I had no beef with the lunatic, and was pleased that the withdrawal symptoms from a nasty case of methamphetamine addiction would be somewhat mitigated by the opportunity to admire a giant cow every morning.

    Our friend was soon cow-moo-flaged behind thick bushes, and forgotten in favour of Queensland’s ma-newer Big Things. She was clearly pasture prime and it seemed like this steak was cooked. Thankfully the Big Cow was donated to the happy chappies at Highfields Pioneer Village in 2019, and a few months later was sliced in half (ouch!) and trucked to her new home on the outskirts of beautiful Toowoomba.

    “She had a bit of render fall off, probably from all that salt air on the coast, and some weather has gotten in from those holes,” village secretary Jody Dodds told a gobsmacked journo from the ABC. “She hasn’t had much TLC for a while. We think it will cost around $29,000 to have her back in perfect condition.”

    Cow-abunga, dude!

    A Manure Hope

    On September 20, 2020, the redemption of the legendary Big Cow was complete, when she was unveiled to her hordes of rabid fans in a very moo-ving ceremony. The new owners even re-opened the moo-seum inside the Cow after decades of closure. She’s now calm and relaxed in her tranquil retirement home, and it’s no cow-incidence that attendance at the village has never been higher.

    Alright, I’ve milked this story long enough, but I have a question; since when did cows have horns?

    A quick note; whilst I’ve included a cheeky udder pun in this story, udder infections in dairy cows are a serious problem. They’re painful and potentially fatal if left untreated. I enjoy a giggle as much as anyone, but cows suffering due to unhygienic conditions and lack of adequate medical attention is no laughing matter.

  • The Big Beer Can, Koumala, QLD

    The Big Beer Can, Koumala, Queensland

    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!

    If vino is your tipple of choice, you can always visit The Rutherglen Wine Bottle or The Pokolbin Wine Bottle. There’s also Private Passage, which you’ll find in New York. You’ll never go thirsty in the Land of the Bigs!

  • The Big Sunflowers, Toowoomba, QLD

    The Big Sunflowers, Toowoomba, Queensland, Australia

    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 Big Parrot, Apple Tree Creek, QLD

    The Big Parrot, Apple Tree Creek, Queensland, Australia

    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?

  • The Big Melon, Chinchilla, QLD

    The Big Melon, Chinchilla, Queensland

    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!

  • The Big Crab, Miriam Vale, QLD

    The Big Crab, Miriam Vale, Queensland, Australia

    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.

  • The Big Shell, Tewantin, QLD

    The Big Shell, Tewantin, Queensland, Australia

    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!

  • Pelican Pete, Noosaville, QLD

    Pelican Pete, Noosaville, Queensland

    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!

  • Murray the Cod, St George, QLD

    Murray the Cod, St George, Queensland, Australia

    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.

    Sure, there are bigger Murray cods around – like The Big Murray Cod in Tocumwal and The Giant Murray Cod in Swan Hill – but this catch of the day knows that bigger isn’t always batter!

    Don’t Murray, Be Happy!

    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.

    Gosh, what would Stanley the Emu think?

    Although, to be perfectly honest, anything would be a letdown after spending a whimsical afternoon with a large fish made out of old bibs and bobs.

    Sorry to keep carping on about it, but Murray the Cod really is a delicious treat. My only question is, where are the Big Hot Chips?

  • The Big Sardine Can, Home Hill, QLD

    The Big Sardine Can, Home Hill, Queensland, Australia

    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!

  • Buffy the Big Cane Toad, Sarina, QLD

    Buffy the Cane Toad, Sarina, Queensland, Australia

    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!

  • The Big Watermelon, Gumlu, QLD

    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!

  • The Big Pumpkin, Gumlu, QLD

    The Big Pumpkin, Gumlu, Queensland, Australia

    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!

    Orange you excited to see it?

  • The Big Pineapple, Woombye, QLD

    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!