Tag: Tamworth

  • The Big Chook, Moonbi, NSW

    The Big Chook, Moonbi, New South Wales

    Some say she lays golden eggs during the full moon, and that her wattles can be seen from space. All we know is she’s called The Big Chook, and she lives atop an decadent pole in the middle of Moonbi.

    I’m your host, the inimitable Jeremy Cluckson – and you’d have to be a blithering idiot not to take a grand tour out to see this Biggie – bagawk!

    The Big Chook was built from fiberglass in the 1970s, as a tribute to the area’s chicken industry, which was going gangbusters at the time. She sits happily in the centre of town, presiding over Moonbi’s 300-odd residents.

    I guess you could say there’s nothing ‘poultry’ about her. Yes, sometimes my linguistic genius is almost frightening. I could even be a comedi-hen!

    With her stoic expression, sensual curves and elegant – almost provocative – comb, The Chook is marvellous, and every bit as beautiful as a freshly-polished Ferrari 458 Spider.

    It’s not uncommon to find a clutch of chickie-babes strutting around at her base, posing for photos as they travel around the Land of the Bigs.

    Visit The Big Chook and you’ll certainly have something to crow about – bagawk!

    Are you lookin’ for a chookin’?

    A journey to The Big Chook is too much for one chicken-man to handle, so I enlisted the help of my offsider James May-an-Egg (who looks suspiciously like Bigella in a cheap fried egg costume from Spotlight).

    “Oh, cock!” James clucked as she clambered out of my Lamborghini Aventador, which I’d picked up on a whim to celebrate the financial success of Land of the Bigs.
    “The correct terminology is ‘Gallus gallus domesticus’,” I corrected her smarmily. “And I don’t appreciate the blue language – bagawk!”

    “The Big Chook radiates with a regal elegance that belies her rural roots,” James continued. “She’s a little rough around the edges, yet sits majestically above Moonbi, like a queen presiding over her minions.”
    “Yes, The Big Chook and moi have a lot in common,” I chirped. “She’s rustic, complex and alluring – and so am I.”
    “You’re an utter pillock!”

    “Listen,” I bok-bok-bokked. “I brought you out here in a beautiful Lamborghini Aventador –”
    “It’s a Kia Picanto with a few bits of cardboard taped to it!” James sighed. “People have been pointing and laughing. Let’s go.”

    A moment of awkward silence passed between us, and I sensed James was weary of my shenanigans.

    “I know!” I bawked. “Let’s attach wheels and a V8 engine to The Big Chook and drive her across the country. Cock-a-doodle-do you think that’s a good idea?”

    As James strangled the life out of me, I was overcome by shock. I never thought she’d resort to fowl play!

    Made you look, ya dirty chook!

    The Big Chook may rule the roost in Moonbi, but there are many other beautiful Biggies in the area. The Big Golden Guitar is de rigueur in Tamworth, and The Big Fish is winning hearts up the road in Manilla.

    No, not the mega-city in The Philippines – I’m not welcome there after crashing a Porsche 928 into the Minor Basilica of San Sebastian – I mean the agrarian haven by the banks of the River Namoi. Bagawk!

    You’ll also find eggs-actly what you’re looking for in the rustic village of Warral. There lies the incomparable Egg Sheeran. Oh no, I’m not talking about the ginger-nutted global megastar, it’s just a large concrete egg by the side of the road.

    Of course, there are many other big cocks around the place. There’s Charlie the Chicken in Charlestown, Chickaletta in Myrtlebank, and another Big Chook to take a sticky beak at in Mount Vernon.

    Yes, if you love Big Things, it’s your clucky day!

    BAGAWK!

  • Egg Sheeran, Warral, NSW

    Egg Sheeran the Big Egg, Warral, New South Wales, Australia

    There’s an egg-straordinary Big Thing to see in the village of Warral, just outside of Tamworth. Dear readers, please ome-let me introduce you to the imaginatively-titled Egg Sheeran.

    Y’know, like Ed Sheeran, the singing sensation. Pallid and globular with bright orange highlights, it’s no wonder the locals named this egg-normous statue after the carrot-crowned English rock god.

    Unlike Ed, who is known for his bad boy swagger, The Big Egg has an over-easygoing personality. The great big goog sits out the front of the picturesque Kelso Park Farm and has, sadly, seen better days. But I’m not going to bene-dictate whether the owners should clean him up or not.

    Whilst Ed has millions of groupies who swarm after him wherever he goes, it’s rare for Egg to have more than 30 or 40 devotees hanging around him at any one time. But it’s hard to get an eggs-act number.

    Not much is known about this big, concrete ovum – I came up with a duck’s egg when I tried to find out who made it and when. The question of ‘why’ doesn’t even need to be asked. As Ed would say, his namesake Egg is absolutely Perfect.

    Altogether now:I found an egg for me
    Oh, darling, just drive along Werris Creek Road and it will be seen
    Well, I found an egg, beautiful and sweet
    Oh, I’d like to eat him with some bacon and beans!

    I’m in love with the taste of you

    With Ed Sheeran and Egg Sheeran having so much in common, there was room for confusion when I hatched a plan to take Bigella – a lifelong ‘Sheerio’ – out to Warral to meet ‘Mr Sheeran’.

    “He’s playing out here in the middle of nowhere?” a wide-eyed Bigella asked as we a-poached The Big Egg.
    “Yes, Bigella,” I tittered. “I’m just as shell-shocked as you.”

    After pulling the Bigsmobile over by the side of the road, Bigella’s shoulders slumped. Tentatively, she circled Egg Sheeran.

    “He’s not all he’s cracked up to be,” she blubbered. “It’s just a rotten egg sculpture.”
    “Oh well,” I shrugged, feeling very pleased with myself indeed. “Different strokes for different yolks, I suppose.”
    “Shoosh Bigs, you’re scrambling on and on.”

    I had one final, hilarious, surprise in store for Bigella. As she reconsidered her life choices, I stepped behind the egg, pulled on a rubber chicken mask, and emerged as my alter-ego Jeremy Cluckson. I’d barely started gyrating around when Bigella started choking the chicken.

    “Bigella, it’s me, just silly old me!” I bagawked. “I was playing a childish prank!”

    “Of course I know it’s you – I’m eggs-asperated because you brought me all the way out here to the worst Big Thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she spat. “It’s rusty, it doesn’t look very much like an egg, and it’s in a really shady place.”
    “Yes, there are a few trees around.”
    “No, it looks like someone’s going to come out of that house and stab us.”

    “I think you’re eggs-aggerating,” I replied. “But I’m sorry I fried to you about meeting Ed Sheeran.”
    “You left me with egg all over my face.”
    “To make it up to you, I’ll take you to meet Lizzo.”
    “The vivacious, curvaceous Lizzo? It’s not some dilapidated lizard sculpture you’ve named Lizzo?”
    “Um, no,” I smirked, ushering Bigella into the car for the 15-hour drive to see a dilapidated lizard sculpture I’d named Lizzo.

  • The Big Golden Guitar, Tamworth, NSW

    If the sound of the world’s largest guitar is music to your ears, you need to pluck up the courage to visit the prosperous city of Tamworth, in the north-west of New South Wales. There you’ll find the enormous Big Golden Guitar, which at 12 metres tall and weighing 500kg, was music to the ears of locals when he rocked into town back in 1988. Slim Dusty was on hand to unveil the large lad, in recognition of Tamworth’s reputation as Australia’s home of country music.

    Made from fibreglass and steel, the unreal ukelele sadly has no strings. He has, howebver, struck a chord with the more than four million admirers who’ve had their photo taken with him over the years. The wonder of the Big Golden Guitar is amplified by the fact he’s a scale replica of the trophies handed out at the annual Australian Country Music Awards.

    This big axe – not be confused with the actual Big Axe at Kew, four hours away – boasts exceptional build quality and is impressively large. My guest, Brazil’s foremost expert in Big Thingophelia, Professora Bebezinha Grande, went as far as to call it an in-strum-ental part of Australian culture. Don’t pick on her, she tries her best!

    Q: How can you tell the Big Golden Guitar is worried?
    A: He frets a lot.

    The incredible instrument is certainly not in the fiddle of nowhere. He’s conveniently located on the main road into Tamworth from the south, outside the Visitor Information Centre. When you drop by, make a day of it by visiting the Country Music Wax Museum or the National Guitar Museum. There’s even a sprawling souvenir shop, which offers a huge variety of nik-naks dedicated to this colossal creation.

    You might even run into Lee Kernaghan or one of Australia’s other country music icons at the on-site cafe! Honestly, these guys are lurking around all the time.

    “Bigs,” Lee Kernaghan gasped after taking my photo with the Guitar. “You’re the unsung hero of Australian pop culture. Please, take one of my Country Music Awards.”
    “Lee,” I replied, handing back the trophy he’d thrust into my hand. “I appreciate the gesture, but can’t accept this testament to your hard work and talent.”
    “Aw, go on. I’ve got 37 of the bloody things and the missus said I have to offload a few.”

    And that’s how I, Bigs Bardot, ended up with a Country Music Award and a lifetime friendship with Lee Kernaghan. I believe his latest album was inspired by the Big Chook.

    Tamworth makes a great bass from which to explore other Big Things, such as Manilla’s Big Fish, so if you can pull a few strings and spend a bit of time out there, you won’t be disappointed! In fact, after spending an afternoon with the legendary Big Golden Guitar, you’ll want to Epiphone your mates to tell them how good it is!