Tag: travel

  • Norbert the Yellow Dragon, Mooroopna, VIC

    Norbert the Yellow Dragon, Mooroopna, Victoria, Australia

    ‘Bert, the magic dragon lived near Ernie
    And frolicked in the autumn sun in Shepparton, you see
    Little Bigs Bardot loved that rascal ‘Bert
    And brought him strings, and funny things, and even peach yoghurt

    Norbert the Yellow Dragon is friendly chap – and the Gaffy family, who constructed the creature as a holiday art project, couldn’t be more disappointed. If they had their way, Norbert would be a soul-devouring, fire-breathing, child-scaring thunder lizard who destroys anyone foolish enough to stand in his way.

    “There were talks of installing flame-throwers on it,” David Gaffy told a concerned journalist when the dragon was unveiled in 2017. “But perhaps that’s not the best idea.”

    What, David, no chainsaws or death rays or vats of bubbling oil that boil visitors? As the patriarch of a brutally creative family, David wasn’t alone in his fanciful plans for this very unique-looking Big.

    “I was actually thinking of it being 50 times bigger than it is,” his eight-year-old son, Hamish gloated. “It’s the dragon from Harry Potter.”

    Young Hamish came up with the idea for Norbert whilst visiting his pop’s farm just outside Shepparton, and wasted no time sketching the plans for the golden goliath on a bit of paper. Generations of Gaffys then descended upon the ranch to make the little boy’s dreams come true.

    “Hamish really enjoyed the fact it became a whole family project,” David beamed. “Uncle Tim helped with the welding, Grandpa came up with the idea for the tail. The opportunity to get our hands dirty was too good to pass up.”

    I would’ve helped, of course, but I was getting my hair permed that day. Maybe next time! And there will be a next time, because Hamish has BIG plans for a space rocket and a phoenix to join Norbert, who lives on the corner of Pyke Rd and Mooroopna-Murchinson Rd.

    Next time you’re passing, make sure to give Norbert a hearty, “Yellow, mate!”

    How to Restrain Your Dragon

    Driving the Bigsmobile between my bachelor pad in Shepp’s leafy north-west and my weekender in Waranga Shores, my heart skipped a beat as I heard the dulcet tones of a damsel in distress. With little concern for my own safety I screeched the van to a halt, popped on my most menacing pair of pineapple-shaped sunglasses, and prepared myself for the worst.

    Imagine my surprise when I came face-to-muzzle with the normally-placid Norbert – wild of eye and flaxen of skin – with my best chum Gordon Shumway betwixt his powerful jaws. This was not the gregarious dragon I’d so often shared strawberry soufflé with at the Shepparton Gentlemen’s Club.

    “Oh, Norbert,” I gasped, “all this snarling and snatching innocents isn’t really you, is it?”

    The fire in Norbert’s eyes dimmed and his shoulders slumped. He placed Gordon down on an especially pulpous thatch of grass, then hung his enormous head in shame.

    “My sincerest apologies, Biggsy,” Norbert wept. “I buckled under the irresistible weight of peer pressure and, against my better judgement, became the one thing I’ve always despised. I transformed into a brutish cliché of a dragon. Overflowing with testosterone and toxic masculinity, I lashed out at those I love most.”

    “I forgive you, Norbie,” I cooed, then gestured towards Gordon. “But someone else might take a bit more convincing.”

    Gordon dusted himself off and shrugged nonchalantly.

    “You’re forgiven, dude,” the little alien grinned. “I’m just glad Dave didn’t end up giving you that flame-thrower!”

  • The Big Avocado, Duranbah, NSW

    The Big Avocado, Duranbah, New South Wales, Australia

    She’s green, she’s a queen, and she needs to be seen – get your sourdough toast ready for the scrumptious Big Avocado. This four-metre marvel can be found at Tropical Fruit World, and is exocarp-ly guac you’ve been looking for.

    The Big Avocado was revealed to a curious public in 1983, promoting what was then known as Avocadoland. Still a working farm, the renamed Fruit World is now home to cafes, markets, restaurants, a small train, and 500 different fruits. Well, 501 when I visited – teehee!

    You’d have avoca-no problem spending an entire avo-noon there, especially as you don’t have to cough up any avoca-dough to enter the plantation. And your friends will be green with envy when the find out where you’ve been, because there’s a second – yes, a second! – Big Avocado only minutes away.

    This roadside rascal seduces motorists by the side of the Pacific Highway, and has been split in half to reveal her delightfully creamy insides and plump, sensual stone. It’s a wonder there aren’t constant pile-ups as rubber-necked drivers try to catch on last heavenly glimpse.

    Needless to say, these two are the perfect condiment to any trip north.

    And they all love happily avo after…

    Avocados come from Central America and, like all Latinas, the Big Avocado has a feisty, yet morally virtuous attitude, with a chubby bottom that begs to be groped. Yes, she’s passionate, romantic and… and… I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. It’s just too much.

    Every time I pass this emerald colossus, my heart hurts. The memories of the original Big Avocado – who lived in nearby Alstonville until being murdered by hateful thugs – wash over me like a pantothenic acid-rich tsunami of hot, gooey sorrow.

    This Avo looks so similar to my former bosom friend, but just can’t fill that avocado-shaped hole in my soul. Yes, she’s a verdant emerald. Yes, she’s fun to take photos with. And yes, her texture is botanically accurate. But will she ever hold me when the hot knives of panic slice their way through my reality?

    This astonishing aguacate will be the highlight of your trip through the north coast of New South Wales. The photos you take with her will remain treasured trinkets, passed down through the generations of your family for centuries to come. But, for me, being near her is like hot death.

    I avocadon’t think I can deal with the pain anymore.

  • The Big Avocado, Alstonville, NSW

    The Big Avocado, Alstonville, New South Wales, Australia (RIP)

    Long before the humble ‘avo’ became the brunch of choice for perpetual children the world over, the Big Avocado was providing comfort and companionship to the damaged kiddies of Australia – including a very young Biggles Leticia Bardot.

    Aw, just look at how gosh darn cute we both were!

    The riboflavin-rich ragamuffin stood sentinel outside the House with No Steps in leafy Alstonville for time immemorial, but was demolished in mysterious circumstances many moons ago. For most, he’s but a fading fantasy. I, however, remember my adventures with the Big Avocado as if they were yesterday.

    When I close my eyes I’m overcome by his sweet, nutty scent, and can feel the warm embrace of his wrinkled skin. The Big Avocado was everything to me, and now he’s gone.

    Do not, however, allow my impish grin and stylishly minimalist board shorts deceive you. For this was a tumultuous period of my life, one that took me to the very brink of desperation and cast me on a treacherous journey through a pitch-black cave of depression and self-loathing.

    Were it not for the unconditional love of the Big Avocado, I may not have survived to become Australia’s leading historian of Big Things and oversized roadside attractions. You would not be reading this website. The world would be a colder, less personable place.

    The Big Avocado saved a generation from the crushing pressure of depression and self-harm. In the end, the only one he was unable to support was himself. 

    Does someone need an avocuddle?

    It would be easy, and somewhat lazy, to say that it was love at first sight. I doubt The Big Avocado even noticed the awkward, shy boy who was dumped at his bulbous bottom by a hard-faced madame from the Department of Community Services. If I, on the other hand, even saw him through my waterfall of tears, the trauma of that day stripped his presence from my mind.

    That awful moment had been a long time coming. A series of increasingly bizarre outbursts had seen me shuffled between almost a dozen foster homes. I was a boy in search of love and safety after years of neglect, and struck out at anyone who tried to help me.

    The only people who understood me were Australia’s Big Things but, sadly, my attempts to be adopted by Charlie the Chicken proved unsuccessful.

    Eventually, after a particularly unpleasant tantrum that was widely covered by the tabloid press of the time, my few worldly possessions were gathered up and I was dispatched to a controversial high security detention centre on the far north coast, where I’d receive the care and supervision I so desperately needed. The silver lining was that, to prevent further flare ups, I was to be imprisoned at the only juvenile delinquent centre with a resident Big Thing.

    The Big Avocado had rescued many a hoodlum from a life of hatred and crime. It was hoped that the same would happen to me.

    You guac my world!

    Those first few months at the House With No Steps rolled by in a chlorpromazine-induced haze of paranoid delusions and electro-shock therapy. My counsellors did their best, but I was falling further into a bottomless abyss of foolishness. Known as a ‘biter’, I was cut off from human contact, locked away in a dingy basement.

    And then, on a crisp winter’s morn, I was strapped to a gurney, my mouth ensconced in a muzzle, and gingerly wheeled out the front gate. Breaking many human rights regulations I was left, drool pouring from my gaping maw and eyes spinning with madness, at the foot of the Avocado.

    I may have been there minutes or I may have been there days, but I clearly remember the point where I looked up and saw that bright green orb hovering in front of me. A calm swept over me that I had never known, and I allowed myself to become one with the Big Avocado.

    “Bigs,” he told me, “you are following the wrong path. Your life has been lost to lunacy and ultraviolence, but is destined to be one of peace and love and really tired puns.”

    I waited for him to order me to kill my tormentors, as my bed had told me earlier that day, but the words never came.

    “My life has no meaning,” I slurred, the heady mixture of muscle relaxants and methylphenidate finally wearing off.

    “Yes it does. You are destined to build the greatest website dedicated to Big Things that the world has ever known. It will bring a new era of harmony to a very troubled world. You will unite people of all races, genders, sexual orientations and body shapes with your unabashed enthusiasm for oversized roadside attractions.”

    Of course, this was many years before the internet was invented, so I might be misremembering the conversation, but that’s pretty much the gist of it.

    And they all lived happily avo after

    No longer a twisted creature brimming with vulgarity and loathing, I took to wearing pink short-shorts and mincing around in a flamboyant fashion. My days were spent chatting with the Big Avocado, who became my spiritual guide, muse and – all too briefly – romantic partner.

    Unmuzzled and uncaged, I was even allowed to visit other Big Things in the region, such as the Big Prawn and the Big Pineapple. My life became one of joy and wonder, and it was all thanks to that spherical sweetheart by the front gate.

    When I was finally released from detention, the Big Avocado was there to bid me adieu. He glowed with pride, and we embraced through a flurry of tears.

    “Go out into the world, Bigs,” he told me. “Go out into the world and spread a little magic. Bring a little happiness to those who need it the most.”

    “I love you, Avocado,” I wept.

    “I love you too, Bigs,” he replied. They were the words I’d waited a lifetime to hear. We would never see each other again.

    By the time I returned to the House With No Steps 30 years later, it had been transformed into the flourishing Summerland Farm, and there was no sign of my friend. I like to think that, after decades spent saving young lives, he’d finally taken some time out for himself, enjoying retirement on a farm somewhere in the sunshine.

    Most likely, he was pulled down and tossed into the garbage. I prefer not to think about it. There is an imposter nearby, but he doesn’t have the presence, the heart, of the original. Just knowing he’s there hurts.

    Wherever he is, the Big Original Avocado will live on forever in my heart, and within the hearts of so many juvenile delinquents. He rescued me from myself. I’ll always love you, my friend.

  • 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.

  • Western Wayne, Airdrie, Alberta

    Western Wayne, Airdrie, Alberta, Canada

    Listen up, pardner. If you’re planning to pinch a caravan from Airdrie, north of Calgary, think again. Western Wayne, a 30-foot cowboy with a huge hat and a mean disposition, guards the Western RV caravan shop… and this Big shoots first and asks questions later!

    Wearing a tough-guy snarl reminiscent of a young Sam Elliott, Wayne’s towered over Alberta’s desolate prairies for decades. He’s impossible to miss, fun to take photos with, and just so dadgum full of character.

    Despite his bad boy swagger, this Canadian casanova is a much-loved member of the community. With clothes made of cotton and a moustache made of machismo, this son of the soil is here to chew tobacco and break hearts… and he’s all out of tobacco!

    Wayne’s also the biggest fan of the Calgary Flames hockey team around – literally! Lately he’s been sporting their crimson sporting blouse, with opposition fans risking a shot from an oversized Colt 45 if they stop by. Thankfully, the only thing Wayne fired at this lifelong Kansas City Scouts fan was a gruff smile.

    Although he never seems to age and has been lovingly maintained by his owners, Wayne can be a forgetful chap. He left his Hat n’ Boots in Seattle after a particularly raucous evening with the Fremont Troll. We’ve all been there! Don’t worry, because this desperado has plenty of padres to look out for him.

    He looks like a lone ranger, but Wayne’s assembled an intimidating posse in Airdrie. A few burly bears, a massive motorbike, and a super scary Shrek statue all live at the RV shop. Not surprisingly, Wayne also has a big cock… oi, stop giggling! I’m talking about the sizeable rooster standing off to his right. That’s one of the biggest peckers I’ve seen in months!

    No Wayne, no gain!

    Long before he became a proud Canuck, this king-sized Cowboy roamed the plains of the United States. He first appeared in Idaho during the 1950s, protecting the Spokane Interstate Fair from cattle rustlers and injuns.

    “He was on the fairgrounds down in Spokane for about 30 years,” Brandon ‘Keith’ Urban, operations manager and part owner of Western RV, told a dumbfounded reporter. “Naturally, a 30-foot-tall cowboy, I’m sure he was the star of the show – he was a big part of the fair down in Idaho.”

    With peace returned to the town, Wayne turned his attention to Idaho’s burgeoning fashion industry, taking up residence in front of a westernwear store in trendy Coeur d’Alene. His freshly-pressed shirts and super-cute slacks lured trendy cowpokes in their droves for two decades.

    Then the world changed. The kids were more interested in baggy jeans and revealing mesh singlets than hard-wearing, all-weather ponchos, and the boutique closed. Wayne’s gruff fashion advice was no longer needed.

    “The store was liquidating all of their assets and a friend of our family was down in Idaho and spotted the cowboy for sale,” Urban explained. “They suggested it’d be a great iconic figure to be perched out front of Western RV.

    “This was around the time when we were building the dealership in Airdrie and wanted to stand out, so we purchased Western Wayne in 2000 and he has stood out front of the dealership ever since then.”

    Sales, understandably, quadrupled overnight. It’s a common phenomena, with similar results at car yards holding Lefty the Pink Buffalo, the Big Oyster and the Mini Harbour Bridge. If only Big Things had such an effect on the popularity of my Bumble profile.

    Wayne’s World

    These days Wayne is as much an icon of Alberta as mullet haircuts and Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart.

    “As any city grows, the landmarks that have been fixtures in that city kind of grow with it,” Mr Urban exhaled. “You can look at any city – the Calgary Tower has been an iconic landmark in Calgary for many years – and although Airdrie has the water tower, it doesn’t have any other types of towers or iconic symbols.

    “I’d argue that the cowboy, he’s right up there. He’d be in the top five.”

    Wayne’s certainly earning his keep. I popped into Western RV for a quick photo op and a cup of their famous coffee, and drove out of there with a brand new 2022 CrossRoads RV Hampton trailer with a full kitchen, fireplace, home cinema and rose cold finishings.

    Sure, some might argue that a 41-foot-long wagon capable of sleeping eight robust travellers is a bit much for a single gent who largely shuns human interaction, but Western Wayne is a helluva salesman – yeeeeehaw!

    A note from the inimitable Bigs Bardot: You might be wondering why Land of the Bigs correspondent, and legendary cowpoke, Biggie the Kid wasn’t there to meet Western Wayne. Unfortunately Biggie has been banned for life from entering Canada after a well-intentioned encounter with Shania Twain went awry. It’s probably for the best – Airdrie ain’t big enough for two of ’em!

  • 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 Drill Bit, Vancouver, BC

    The Big Drill Bit, Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

    This is not a drill! Please drop everything and make your way to the PetSmart store in north-eastern Vancouver. I repeat this is not a drill! What you’ll find when you reach the designated assembly point is a drill, however – The Big Drill Bit!

    Don’t ask me why a pet shop has a gargantuan gimlet out the front. The Canadians are a quirky bunch who shirk cultural norms, so I guess it makes sense to them. There’s probably a hardware shop somewhere with a big dog out the front. That’s just how they roll.

    Putting a new twist on urban art, the Big Drill is the centrepiece of a shopping complex designed to reinvigorate a run-down corner of the city – much as the Tin Soldier has done in New Westminster. The designers had wanted to feature the complete power drill, but couldn’t find an extension cord long enough.

    The Big Drill Bit lives amongst some overgrown hedges by a busy road, and it’s not uncommon to see revheads tooling around in front of it. An afternoon with this silver fox is a drill-a-minute experience, and certainly not boring!

    Screw, Me and Dupree

    Draping myself around the Big Drill Bit’s voluptuous curves for an erotic selfie, I noticed a slender figure with a mop of shaggy blonde hair heading my way. At first I thought it was my old chum Ellen DeGeneres, whose Emmy Award-winning daytime chat show I’d been a recurring guest of for several years.

    Once I saw the crooked nose and effeminate mannerisms, however, I realised it wasn’t Ellen DeGeneres at all.

    “Hey, guy, you know what this reminds me of? The comedy classic Drillbit Taylor,” the character ranted.  “Highly underrated movie with a standout performance by… gosh darn it, what was his name? Handsome man, exceptional actor.”

    “Owen Wilson?”

    “Owen Wilson, that’s right! Geez, how could I forget Owen Wilson? He’s been in a range of blockbusters such as Zoolander and Wedding Crashers, as well as the critically-acclaimed arthouse films Midnight in Paris and The Royal Tenenbaums. That just goes to show that, not only is Owen a bankable star, but he also possesses the emotional range and comic timing to rank him amongst the greatest actors of his generation.”

    I rolled my eyes, realising that my relaxing afternoon with The Big Drill Bit had come to a premature end. “You’re Owen Wilson, aren’t you?”

    “Yes sir, I am.”

    “And you hang out by the Big Drill Bit so that you can remind people that you were in the forgettable 2008 film Drillbit Taylor?”

    “Correctamundo, and that ‘forgettable film’ earned $49.7 million at the box office.”

    “Against a production budget of $40 million, Owen, meaning it was both a commercial and critical failure. Twenty-seven percentage fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes, if I’m not mistaken.”

    “Twenty-six, but Rotten Tomatoes is notoriously inaccurate for movies predating its ascent into the cultural zeitgeist.”

    “I have a feeling it’s quite accurate in this instance, Owen.”

    Drillbit Failure

    Owen Wilson’s obsession with Drillbit Taylor didn’t make for riveting conversation, so I packed up my camera gear as a gentle prompt for him to leave. He may be a charming actor, but Owen Wilson obviously struggles to read social cues, as he just kept on blabbering.

    “So, I was thinking I could play you, the inimitable Bigs Bardot, in the film adaptation of Land of the Bigs.”

    “Owen, please, you’re embarrassing yourself,” I sighed  “You know that Channing Tatum has already been cast.”

    Owen Wilson’s shoulders slumped, and he buried his face within the Big Drill Bit’s killer curves so that I wouldn’t see the tears in his aquamarine eyes.

    “Maybe I could play the role of Owen Wilson in the part where you visit the Big Drillbit.”

    “Again, Owen, you know that role has already been filled by your more talented sibling.”

    “Rebel Wilson?”

    “Yes, Rebel Wilson.”

    Oh, Mr Wilson!

    The sight of Owen Wilson weeping openly by the side of a highway on a wet Canadian afternoon will haunt me until my final days. He was just a handsome, multi-millionaire playboy trying to make it through this harsh world, and my heart went out to him.

    Cradling Owen in my brawny arms, I brushed his blond mop out of his eyes and planted a reassuring kiss on his forehead.

    “You know, Owen,” I said against my better judgement, “we haven’t cast anyone to play the Big Potato yet.”

    “Bigs, Owen Wilson gasped, rising to his feet and thrusting lewdly towards the traffic, “this will be the best $20 million you ever spent.

    “Settle down, Owen, we’re not even paying Leonardo DiCaprio that much to play the World’s Biggest Rolling Pin.”

    “Have your people talk to my people, baby. Now Bigs, I’d love to stand here all day talking about my illustrious career, but I have to go to the DVD launch of my latest heartwarming romantic comedy.”

    “Marry Me?”

    “Well, we’ve just met, but gosh darn, let’s do it!”

    And that, dear reader, is the story of my brief-yet-tumultuous marriage to Hollywood bad boy Owen Wilson.

  • 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 Marlin, Iluka, NSW

    The Big Marlin, Iluka, New South Wales, Australia

    The old man’s hands belied their age as he nimbly manoeuvred the thawing prawn onto the hook; in through the head and out through the belly, as always. I feigned disgust, of course, but the process fascinated me.

    “Next time, Bigs, you’ll be baiting your own hook,” he said in his usual brusk tone, then handed over the rod and reel. Our eyes and smiles caught for a fleeting moment, then I sent the bait sailing into the tepid ocean. A plonk, a ripple, then nothing but the sound of water lapping against the dock.

    A geriatric and a pre-pubescent, two beings at opposite ends of troubled lives, sitting peacefully at the edge of the world, waiting for a fish.

    The vagrant was the only one who understood me. Counsellors pretended to care, the other boys in my high security mental health facility sometimes offered a warped corruption of companionship. But this pitiful creature with unruly hair and a beard like a banksia bush was the only one who really got me.

    A loner like me, the hobo rarely talked about his wretched past, but he didn’t need to. The pain was projected across his rugged face; the nights spent under bridges echoed in his words; the loss of humanity and respect reflected in the lamentable way he walked.

    Who knows, maybe I was the only one who actually got him.

    All life folds back into the sea

    “You know,” I said, shattering the silence, “they say there’s a fish the size of a car out at Manilla. He has a top hat and everything! Maybe we could run away and see him together.”

    “Hey muscles, you’re scaring the fish away,” snapped the vagabond, feigning annoyance once again. I smiled to myself, content in my knowledge that it was simply his way of showing affection. Exhibiting love and admiration can feel like chewing razor blades for people like us.

    “We can’t catch fish every day,” I whispered glumly, wanting to lay a reassuring hand upon his shoulder but knowing that would likely trigger one of his infamous ‘freak outs’. “Maybe you’ll catch the eye of a pretty lady on the way home.”

    “Squirt, I don’t have a home. I live in a bed made of milk crates behind Clint’s Crazy Bargains. Now make yourself useful and go get me a box of wine. And none of that fancy stuff. Last time you got me a rosé and – whilst, yes, it was delightfully fruity with an earthy, somewhat nutty aftertaste – the other tramps beat me quite severely because of it.”

    My heart raced as I waited for the moment when he handed over a few disheveled notes and I would have a rare instant of human contact as our hands met.

    That moment never came so, with a hollow heart, I set off to find a pocket to pick on my way to the bottle shop. I would’ve done anything for that street urchin.

    The August sun hung low by the time I returned with a five-litre box of Sunnyvale. Mist was clawing at the dock. In the distance, a lone seagull cried. The drifter was nowhere to be seen.

    The past seems realer than the present to me now

    Sitting cross-legged on the weathered dock with only the treasured box of wine for company, I waited for my friend to return. The languid sun sunk solemnly beneath the waves, and a pale crescent moon took its place.

    The night scraped its icy fingers across my bare legs, but I didn’t leave my post. My friend, I knew, would return. If not for the wine, then for our zesty conversation and abundance of mutual respect.

    But he never did. Over the following months I would regularly wait for him by the water, dreaming of the moment when we would be reunited. My visions were so vivid that I could smell the prawns on his calloused fingers, and feel his whiskers upon my chin.

    In time I was sent to another part of the state to run out my days in another care facility. As they drove me away I stared out the window through a sheet of tears, seeing only the abandoned dock.

    Someday soon, my sins will all be forgiven

    To this day, I can’t walk past a bait shop without breaking down as memories of my friend wash over me. Well, except for when I went to Iluka Bait & Tackle, because there’s a massive marlin out the front and it’s absolutely fantastic!

    The festive fish is, apparently, based on an actual marlin caught by one of the locals two or three decades ago. He’s since become a beloved icon of the beachside village of Iluka. When I arrived the bait shop was empty, with nary a tackle box or garish lime-and-orange fishing shirt to be found.

    Feelings of abandonment wrapped their frozen tendrils around my throat but, thankfully, the owner Ross Deakin wandered over to assure me that the shop had simply relocated down the street.

    “But what will happen to the Big Marlin?” I asked, my top lip trembling 

    “Bigs, I’ll take it home and put it up in the living room before it goes in the bin. I might get in trouble with the missus, but it’d be worth it!”

    “Keep your family close, Ross,” I implored the owner, as he backed away cautiously. “You never know when you’ll lose them. One minute you’ll be violently robbing a pensioner to pay for a few litres of barely-drinkable plonk, the next…”

    “Bigs, I really need to get going.”

    “Ross, wait,” squealed, allowing a single tear to roll down my cheek. “You haven’t, by chance, seen a world-weary traveller, have you? An unshaven mess of a man, wrapped head to toe in rags of the poorest quality, bathed in the odour of prawns, vulgar white wine and desperation.”

    “Bigs, take another look at the Big Marlin. You might find what you’re looking for.”

    We contemplate eternity beneath the vast indifference of heaven

    As my new friend Ross sauntered off to deal with other business, I cast my gaze one more upon the gilled wonder. His elongated beak and resplendent fins demanded attention, but there was something more.

    Within the sheen of his bulbous belly I saw the haunted eyes and unkempt appearance of the man I had been seeking for so many years. I had, without realising it, become the hobo. My seemingly endless search was over.

    After bidding adieu to the marvellous Big Marlin, I dragged my bones away to sit once more by Australia’s rugged east coast, look out upon the brine, and ponder the meaning of it all beneath a weary canopy of eternal stars.

  • Cunningham’s Bananas, Coffs Harbour, NSW

    Cunningham's Bananas, Coffs Harbour, New South Wales, Australia

    Coffs Harbour is the town built on bananas – quite literally. The bendy yellow wonders are so abundant that the locals have been making their houses out of banana peels and leaves for years.

    Ripe that smile off your face! It’s a berry serious safety issue and has led to a bunch of serious accidents over the years.

    The upshot is that the good folk of Coffs have erected a number of temples to their favourite fruit. Worshippers flock to the world famous Big Banana in their millions, but it’s just potassi-one of many prodigious plantains on the menu.

    Cunningham’s Bananas rest happily by the Pacific Highway south of town. They enjoy the ample sunshine and steady stream of customers who drop into the shop of the same name to say, ‘yellow’. They’ve really curved out a niche in the market!

    The fruit shop beneath the Big Bunch is currantly the best in the area, but that mangoes without saying. The range is sub-lime, the prices mandarin-credible. Get sprout of the house and visit today. And yes, I practice what I peach!

    The big bunch of bananas originally lived in nearby Sawtell. When the town was bypassed a few decades ago, they split for their current location. A trip to the region is always a fruitful endeavour, with the Big Golden Dog and Big Beehive just a Coff, skip and a jump away.

    Seedless to say, I’m sure you’ll find them all a-peel-ing! There’s just so much to keep you a-Musa-d on the Banana Coast! Have fun!

    My best friend and muse, Gordon Shumway was so worn out after a big morning with these yella fellas, that he had to have a ’nana nap afterwards!

  • Dreamer, Seattle, Washington

    Dreamer, Seattle, Washington

    There once was a Big Thing named Dreamer
    Who was created by Patti Warashina
    She looked quite delish
    Admiring her fish
    Oh, what a positive demeanour!

    On the corner of Westlake and Republican
    Dreamer tempts like no other can
    She’s 18 feet long
    And great at ping pong!
    With tootsies larger than those of a pelican

    One day came a boy from Australia
    Whose hunt for Big Things was no failure
    Bardot was his name
    Large women his game
    With a song, he came, to regale her

    When Dreamer didn’t react, there was panic
    Bigs’ behaviour became quite manic
    He screamed and he wept
    In a gutter he slept
    Then he remembered her ears are ceramic!

  • Sonic Bloom, Seattle, Washington

    Sonic Bloom, Seattle, Washington

    Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Macklemore. Seattle has produced some of the world’s greatest musical acts, so it’s no surprise that even their Big Things love to sing. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Sonic Bloom onto the stage!

    Wander cautiously up to one of these 40-foot-tall flowers and he or she will regale you with a melodic ditty. Each of the five blossoms has a unique personality and distinctive sound so, if you have a few friends, it’s possible to create your very own poppy song.

    Who knows, if you come up with a good pe-tune-ia, you might end up with a marigold record!

    The installation was created by Dan Corson in 2013, and stands right next to the somewhat lesser-known Space Needle and just down the road from Dreamer and the World’s Largest Trophy Cup. Sonic Bloom is made from steel, fibreglass, custom photo voltaic cells (which certainly sound impressive), LEDs, sensors, an interactive sound system, energy data monitoring equipment, and a partridge in a pear tree.

    “The project was conceived as a dynamic and educational focal piece that would extend the Science Center’s education outside of their buildings while engaging the public with an iconic artwork prompting curiosity and interactivity both during the day and night,” Señor Corson explains on his website.

    “The title Sonic Bloom refers not only to our defining location on the Puget Sound, but also to the artwork itself, which sings as the public approaches each flower.”

    Plus, the name Soundgarden was already taken.

    I’ll never be your monkey wrench, Dave Grohl

    After some unpleasantness at my hostel the previous evening, I was unable to convince my fellow travellers to form a floral five-piece for a visit to Sonic Bloom. Never one to be discouraged by the utter disdain of others, I rocked up alone, pushed some children out of the way, and put on an impromp-tulip concert.

    Racing from flower to flower, I created an inspirational harmony that had hundreds of Seattleites snapping their fingers and grooving to the irresistible beat. Some even started to chrysanthe-hum along.

    When I finally came up for air a handsome man with long, dark hair and a goatee sauntered over to shake my hand.

    “Bigs, I’m a huge fan of your work,” he smiled. “I’m Dave.”

    “Dave who works at the Big Mango in Bowen? I didn’t recognise you without your Mango costume and dyed orange hair. Did Meryl ever find her cat?”

    “No, Dave Grohl from popular Seattle-based alternative rock group Foo Fighters. We’re looking for a new drummer and, after that wonderful performance, I’d like to offer you the position.”

    Echoes, Silence, Patience and Really Big Flowers

    Chuckling lightly to myself, I patted Dave on the back. It wasn’t the first time I’ve been asked to join a multi-platinum pop group, and it certainly won’t be the last.

    “Well keep looking, Dave Grohl,” I told him. “Unless your next world tour stops exclusively at venues with oversized roadside attractions, I’ll have to decline.”

    Dave Grohl buried his hands deep in his pockets and kicked at the verdant grass growing beneath the Space Needle. His little heart was breaking, but I didn’t want to string him along.

    “I guess we could rearrange the schedule, swap out Madison Square Garden for the parking lot next to the World’s Largest Dinosaur…”

    “I was trying to let you down gently, Dave Grohl.”

    “Of course, of course,” Dave Grohl mumbled, turning away so that I couldn’t see the tears budding in his chocolatey eyes. “I guess I’ll see what Travis Barker’s up to.”

    Sleepless in Seattle

    Dave Grohl, a world famous rock star reduced to a boy in light of my rejection, shuffled away with his handsome head hanging low. Not seeing where he was going, he bumped into one of the massive flowers. Dave Grohl was immediately ensconced in its fluorescent glow and happy-go-lucky harmonies, bringing a welcome smile to his face. I joined in by bopping a nearby bloom.

    Dave Grohl and I moved in unison, creating a sonic landscape that brought warmth to the coldest Seattle evening. Soon Layne Staley of hard rock group Alice in Chains swaggered over and joined in. Then Eddie Vedder.

    Finally rap maestro Sir Mix-A-Lot jived over to provide the group with a much-needed ebony edge by becoming the fifth member. We rocked those flowers into the wee hours, until the burning sun crested the emerald hills of northern Washington.

    When finally we finished, having brought about an age of peace and love through our music, Dave Grohl slung one powerful arm around my sweaty body and kissed my cheek.

    “So does this mean…”

    “Oh, give it a rest, Dave Grohl,” I huffed, pushing him away. “For the last time, I’m not joining your band!”

  • The Big Beehive, Urunga, NSW

    The Big Beehive, The Honey Place, Urunga, New South Wales, Australia

    Sugar
    Oh, honey, honey
    You are my Big Beehive
    And you got me wanting you

    For an adventure that’ll leave you buzzing, visit the sweetest place on the NSW North Coast – the Big Beehive!

    This spiracle of modern architecture stands four metres tall and serves as the entranceway to bee-loved local business the Honey Place. No need to comb the surroundings, because it’s easy to find at the southern entrance to cosmopolitan Urunga

    The Honey Place has been pollen in visitors since 1983, and can be a real hive of activity when tour groups swarm in. It’s possible to bumble around the sprawling facility for hours, and you might even see the workers harvesting honey. They’re real keepers!

    The gift shop is always open for insection, and the prices won’t sting, with plenty of souvenirs for less than an an-tenner. There’s even a brief yet fascinating video on the lifecycle of bees – and put your honey away, it’s free!

    So popular is the Beehive that it’s been visited by a slew of celebrities, including pop singer Sting, Golden Girls star Bee Arthur, hard rock band The Hives and reality TV sensation Honey Boo Boo

    Nectar time you’re in the area, why not treacle yourself to a trip to the Big Bowerbird, Cunningham’s Bananas, the ever-ripe Big Banana, or the loyal Big Golden Dog. The Mid-North Coast really is a hive of Big Thing activity!

    I hate to drone on, but the Big Beehive really does need to be queen to be bee-lieved!

  • The Big Bowerbird, Raleigh, NSW

    The Big Bower Bird, Raleigh, New South Wales

    The benevolent bowerbird is nature’s great recycler, borrowing anything bright and blue to beautify his abode.

    Bonza bloke Nick Warfield is the mid-north coast’s great recycler, borrowing anything bright and blue to build the beautiful Big Bowerbird. The metal marvel has been lovingly pieced together from door handles, garden equipment, bike parts and even a few fans. I assume Nick used a crow bar and a set of needle-nosed flyers to get the job done!

    Fittingly, you can find him lurking outside the Bowerhouse Recycling Centre in rural Raleigh (the Bower Bird, that is, not Nick Warfield). Rust me, you could spend bowers and bowers there!

    The Big Bowerbird brings a bit of culture back to a tip to the trip, which has gained a reputation for being a rubbish way to spend an afternoon. In fact, it’s the perfect place to visit on a junket!

    “Thrown away objects offer me constant invitation,” a passionate Nick told Arts Mid North Coast. “Their inherent energy is stored within rust and decay, kinks and worn surfaces, warped shapes and frayed edges. A history of utility.

    “Wastefulness is an ugly luxury we cannot afford. The act of creation far outweighs the act of consumption. My art projects an attitude where waste is an opportunity to embrace innovation, imagination and humanity. I have learnt to scrounge, sift, recycle, scrap, pilfer, dumpster dive, trawl, dredge and reincarnate. I am a sculptor, surfer and groover living in Bellingen.”

    Couldn’t have said it better myself, Nick!

    Bower before your master!

    The Big Bowerbird fluttered into the centre in 2014, and has inspired a generation of youngsters to save the planet by recycling their used cans. With any luck they’ll stop dancing on Tik Tok long enough to craft their own Big Things out of junk. But really, that’s something that can be enjoyed by people of any garb-age.

    Whilst the Bowerhouse Centre is only open a few days a week, the Big Bird is available for a photo op ever day, so you can visit when-feather the mood strikes you.

    Far from being Australia’s only scrappy chappy, the Big Bowerbird is joined by other second-hand stunners Chickaletta, the Big Kookaburra and Murray the Cod. They just go to show that one man’s trash is another man’s Big Thing!

    I’d love to go on, but I’m worried I’ll trash my reputation by recycling my jokes!

  • The Big Bowl, Lake Cathie, NSW

    The Big Bowl, Lake Cathie, New South Wales

    The delicate clink of plastic on plastic raises the crowd to a raucous crescendo, and my heart flutters as a sturdy set of hands fall upon my youthful shoulders. Peter, an older boy who has taken me under his wing and vowed to guide me through the cutthroat world of amateur youth lawn bowls, leans in a little closer.

    “Great shot, Bigs,” Peter whispers. “You’re just one point away from being crowned the Woy Woy Bowling Club Junior Champion – Male Division. I believe in you, I admire you. Now roll that bowl and send the crowd home happy.”

    I gasp for air in a desperate attempt to calm my trembling fingers, and struggle to focus upon the jack in the distance. My admirers – thousands of them, surely – are roaring and dancing, but I hear nothing but the thumping of my heart and the sweet words rolling out of Peter’s supple lips. I crouch, lean forward, and guide the bowl towards its destiny.

    Nightmare at the Bowlo

    Awakening with a scream, I sink back upon my sodden sheets and stare in horror at the ceiling fan spinning languidly above my sweat-heavy brow. I have, mercifully, been pulled from the hallucination, but I know only too well what would have come next. The tragic trajectory of the shot, the silence of the audience, the ruthless reverberation of the ball plunging into the ditch. And then nothing. For the longest time, nothing.

    After vomiting from angst, I looked up to see my opponent, Simon Wong, was being chaired off the green, clutching the trophy that had been destined for me. My soul yearned for my loss, but the worst was yet to come. There beneath Simon Wong, holding him aloft with a smile wider than anyone’s, was Peter. My Peter.

    “I always knew you could do it, Simon Wong,” Peter beamed, sending red-hot razor blades of torment deep into my shattered psyche.

    I was laughed out of Woy Woy. My lucrative sponsorship with Diadora was annulled. I never lawn bowled again.

    A real jack of all trades

    The Lake Cathie Bowl has been rounding up visitors since 1975, but I’ve always resisted his roguish charms due to the weeping wounds of my childhood ridicule. However, after a recent unpleasant – and really quite violent – exchange with a chum who suggested I join him for a session of barefoot bowls, my therapist Clive suggested that I confront my greatest fear.

    “Dying alone?” I asked him.
    “No, Bigs,” Clive sighed. “Lawn bowls. You must seek out the largest bowling ball in the land. I believe you can find it in -”

    “My friend,” I snapped, “I may have borderline schizoid personality disorder with some rather extreme narcissistic tendencies, but I’m not an idiot. I know that he resides out front of Club Lake Cathie, just 15 kilometres south of picturesque Port Macquarie.

    “I know that planning for the Big Bowl began in 1973, when club President Reg Ellery decided that a bowling ball of epic proportions was the only way to lure in more members. And of course I am aware that, when plans to have the ball made by a professional fell through, Reg asked his neighbour Stan Kanaar – yes, the well-regarded jeweller and engineer – to build it.”

    “But how did he achieve such a realistic and symmetrical representation of a regulation lawn bowls bowling ball?” wailed Clive. “How, Bigs, tell me that!”

    I snatched a conveniently-located newspaper from my purse, struck a dramatic pose with one foot abreast a chair, and began to read as Clive sat there with mouth agape.

    Building a better bowling ball

    “Stan Kanaar described the process thusly,” I yodelled. “‘Operating from the centre, I fixed a jig which went right around the bowl. I plastered as much cement mix as I could on the top and each side, and kept rolling it as each section dried, using the jig all the time. I then called in the plasterer to give it a finishing touch.’”

    “And then?” Clive demanded.

    “The Bowl was left to dry for a few weeks, before being carried by crane into a paddock, where a further two layers of cement were added. The crane driver was so mesmerised by what he saw that he refused to charge for his services, and even convinced a buddy to build the garden around the Bowl when it was finally loaded into place.”

    For the longest time, the only sound in the therapist’s office was the ceaseless ticking of Clive’s antique cuckoo clock. Then, the diminutive therapist jumped up, snatched his keys and dragged me towards the door.

    “Bigs, a visit to the Big Bowl is exactly what you need to overcome your feelings of abandonment and lifelong failure. And, if it’s as grand as you claim, it’s also the thing to help me deal with my spiralling jigsaw puzzle addiction. I’ll drive.”

    And that’s how I ended up confronting the demons of my past.

    Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’

    The Big Bowl measures 1.907 metres tall, with a circumference of 5.983 metres and a total mass of two tonnes. Upon its unveiling on November 16, 1975, Reg was swarmed by Big Thing fanatics as he gave an emotional and, at times, rambling speech.

    “It is bound to be a big attraction with passing motorists,” Reg wept. “I think many visitors will want to be photographed next to the Big Bowl!” The fact I had to endure three agonising hours in a line reaching halfway to Port Macquarie to have a happy snap proves Reg to be a very astute man indeed.

    As the photo shoot drew to a close and the sun melted behind the mountains like butter on a freshly-baked scone, Clive suggested we enjoy a sumptuous yet surprisingly wallet-friendly Chinese meal at the club’s legendary Waterview Restaurant.

    Passing by the restaurant’s window, I was frozen mid-step as I recognised two unmistakably handsome men inside. There, sharing a bowl of Rainbow Beef was Simon Wong and Peter. No longer my Peter; the contented silence and mirrored grins inside the restaurant made it clear that he was now Simon Wong’s Peter.

    I was heartbroken, of course, but more than anything I was simply happy for their happiness.

    Am I not kitty enough?

    “We can get some poke bowls on the way home,” caring Clive whispered, gently walking me away from the Big Bowl forever.

    Nary a word was spoken on the long, bumpy drive back from the Big Bowl. All that needed to be said had been said. As that big ol’ silvery moon watched over us, we weaved our way home, knowing life would never be the same again.

    As Clive pulled up outside my halfway house, he allowed his emotions to take over and clutched to his heaving bosom. A single tear sparkled like a diamond upon his rubenesque cheek.

    “Bigs, I’ve always found your unfettered devotion to Big Things to be a cause for serious concern. But after seeing the Lake Cathie Bowl, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is those who haven’t dedicated their lives to oversized roadside attractions who are the true dangers to society.”

    “Clive, my friend,” I sighed, “I think we had a real breakthrough today. “

  • The World’s Tallest Barber Pole, Forest Grove, Oregon

    The World's Tallest Barber Pole, Forest Grove, Oregon

    As an admirer of all things Big and an ally of repressed minorities, I’m hesitant to present a roadside attraction that discriminates against those of us unable or unwilling to grow a full head of hair. My buzz cut is a fashion choice and I could boast a luxurious mane of amber curls at the click of a finger, but I stand in solidarity with my follicly-challenged chums.

    But here it is – the World’s Tallest Barber Pole, a thorn in the blistered scalps of baldies everywhere.

    Honestly, I hope my good friend The Rock never wanders into suburban Forest Grove. The sight of this 72-foot barber pole, which resides on the sporting grounds of the respectable Pacific University, taunting him and his handsome-yet-hairless head, would break his little heart.

    And as for the giant hare up the road, well, I’m sure he has something to say about harecuts!

    A pole lotta fun!

    Alright, so the World’s Tallest Barber Pole was built to honour the town’s proud history of producing world-class barbershop quartets, but that’s not the point. Why not create a 72-foot barbershop quartet? Or go one step further in the fight against bigotry, with a 72-foot-tall bald barbershop quartet?

    As an added bonus, they could use their chrome domes as solar panels!

    The World’s Tallest Barber Pole, sadly, also perpetuates negative stereotypes of barbershop quintets. If five-person a capella singing groups weren’t demonised, perhaps I wouldn’t have been unceremoniously dumped from hit Australian pop group Human Nature in the early ‘90s and replaced by Michael Tierney.

    Yes, Michael’s super talented, kind, handsome, rhythmic and sexy. Maybe the good people of Forest Grove should just build a giant statue of Michael bloody Tierney and stop picking on bald people.

  • King Kamehameha, Hilo, Hawai’i

    King Kamehameha statue, Hilo, Hawai'i

    Kamehameha the Great united the warring islands of Hawaii in 1810, bringing a new age of peace and prosperity to this tropical paradise.

    The inimitable Bigs Bardot united the world’s Big Things and roadside attractions under one website in 2021, bringing love and happiness and greater awareness of roadside attractions to every corner of the world (yes, even Нады́м, Россия – did you think I forgot about you, Yevgeny?).

    Finally, in an event celebrated from Hilo to Honolulu, these icons met. Two kings, separated by centuries, ruling over their subordinates with brutal yet mostly fair fists.

    Hail to the King, baby

    The 14-foot-tall tribute to the Great One lives in the well-presented Wailoa River State Park, and is one of four similar statues scattered throughout the United States. There’s one in Honolulu, another in Kohala, and a third all the way over in Washington, DC. I certainly hope that one’s got a jumper!

    This version, just outside Hilo’s quirky downtown is, however, by far the tallest – and boasts a most peculiar history. He was sculpted in Vicenza, Italy, way back in 1963, but wasn’t erected until 1997. The nearby isle of Kaua’i was intended to be his forever home but, astonishingly, the locals violently protested his arrival as the real-life King had never actually conquered their home.

    I suppose, sadly, xenophobia is alive and well in Kaua’i.

    But this tale has a happy ending. The statue was handed over to the the people of the Big Island of Hawai’i, the real King’s home. He was carefully placed in front of the splendid Wailoa fish pond, where Kamehameha had often fished for ‘ono and diligently perfected his hip hop dance manoeuvres.

  • Peace, Sacramento, California

    Peace statue, Sacramento, California, United States By Stephen J. Kaltenbach

    Give peace a chance… or should that be give peace a HANDS. This massive set of mitts was created by the ever-talented Stephen Kaltenbach, and can be found right near the State Capitol in downtown Sac.

    When the world needed a hero, Steve was there to lend a hand, knuckling down to bring Sacramentonians a message of glove and harmony. The results, as you can see, are simply irre-wrist-ible.

    Thumbing his nose at bigots, haters and other ne’er-do-wells, Steve hopes his statue – known simply as Peace – will teach us to hold each other a little tighter, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation or the fact they’ve decided to dedicate their life to tracking down Big Things, rather than getting a job and a girlfriend and moving out of the spare bedroom. Do you hear that, Mum?

    Peace brought a new era of goodwill to Sacramento – and the United States as a whole – in 2006, and was soon joined by A Life’s Ride. The piece was surely inspired by another influential set of digits, La Mano in Punta del Este. Steve, however, palms off comments his work is a copy.

    Steve’s also responsible for a woman’s severed head just up the road. Of course I mean a statue of a woman’s severed head – known as Matter Contemplates Spirit. As far as I’m aware he’s never decapitated anyone, male, female or other.

    I can’t shake the feeling that, no matter what he tries his hand at, Steve makes a real fist of it!

  • The Water Giver, Honolulu, Hawai’i

    The Gift of Water, Honolulu, Hawai'i

    Aloha, and greetings from the tropical wonderland of Hawai’i. Millions of people travel to this Pacific paradise for the golden beaches, bottomless drinks and topless women. But the most popular reason for visiting this alluring archipelago is the assortment of Big Things, with the Water Giver at the top of the list.

    Just look at his rippling muscles, square jaw and G-string that leaves little to the imagination. This hunky Hawai’ian surely has the Waikiki to your heart!

    Don’t be surprised if you fail to match with him on Tinder, though. Word has it this sensitive new age water giver has shacked up with the nearby Storyteller.

    Officially known as the Gift of Water, this fine fellow lives outside the Hawai’i Convention Center. He was created by local artist Shige Yamada in 1997 to say thank you to the native people of the area for being so generous to the many newcomers.

    Personally I feel like the natives would’ve preferred that their island paradise wasn’t trashed, polluted and overpopulated by foreigners in the first place. But I guess a huge statue of a semi-naked hunk with a bum that makes you say, ‘Oahu!’ is a pretty good consolation prize!

  • The Big Crab, San Francisco, California

    The Big Crab, San Francisco, California Fisherman's Wharf

    “(Sittin’ With) the Crab for the Day”

    Sittin’ in the San Fran sun
    The Crab’ll be snippin’ when the evenin’ comes
    Watching Bigs Bardot roll in
    Then he’ll make an excuse and scuttle away forever, yeah

    I’m sittin’ with the Crab for the day
    Wondering which way he sways, ooh
    Because it’s scientifically proven crabs can be gay
    Crustacean time!

    I left my home in Gosford
    Headed for the Frisco Bay
    ‘Cause I’ve had everythin’ to live for
    As there’s a Big Thing to visit every day

    So I’m just gon’ sit with the Crab for the day
    Watchin’ the way his his cephalothorax sways, ooh
    Shopping at the The Wharf Store is a good way to save
    Crustacean time!

    My obsession with the Big Crab may seem strange
    But trust me when I say I am sane
    I want him to pinch my bum even when I say not to
    But he doesn’t want to play that game, no

    The poor ol’ Big Crab has no bones
    Without him I fear I’ll die alone, listen
    I’m 20,000 miles from home
    Kissing a crab statue highlighted in chrome

    Now I’m just gon’ sit with my beloved Crab for a day
    Until he inevitably scurries away, ooh yeah
    Why will nobody I love stay
    My whole life has been a waste of time

  • The Big Koala Family, Port Macquarie, NSW

    The Big Koala Family, Billabong Zoo, Port Macquarie, New South Wales

    We are family
    I got all my koalas with me
    We are family
    Get up to Port Mac for this Big Thing

    Good things come in threes… or should I say Big Things come in TREES! Either way, this trio of torpid titans are the perfect embodiment of the modern euc-lear family.

    The Big Koala Family stand a grand total of eight metres tall and take pride of place in front of Port Macquarie’s sprawling Billabong Zoo, where it’s possible to take a happy snap with one of their regular-sized cousins. Emphasis on regular-sized, so I didn’t bother going in there.

    The monument is lovingly maintained and anatomically correct. There’s enough humour and character in the design to make for fun photos, and the gang are well positioned within lush bushland for a meet and greet.

    You could even say they’re un-bear-ably cute! Even though, scientifically, koalas aren’t bears, they’re marsupials. Thanks, biology, for getting in the way of another of my jokes!

    They’re a weird, yet adorable, mob!

    You might be surprised to learn that these Aussie icons are, like many of us, immigrants. The Big Koala Family was built by Natureworks (the Big Thorny Devil; Frilly the Lizard) in 1990, originally taking up residence in front of the successful Coffs Harbour Zoo. Those were the halcyon days of the town, with the Big Banana and Big Bunch of Bananas also proving a-peel-ing to tourists.

    Cataclysmically, the allure of this fabulous family wasn’t enough to save the zoo, which closed in 2007. Amid the hopelessness and destruction, the brave refugees packed their pouches for the long, hazardous journey south. Fending off bigotry, poverty and the fact everyone drives on the wrong side of the road, they found solace in another subtropical paradise.

    Like most ethnics, they’ve become much-loved members of their community – much like the nearby Big Bowl. Their vibrant migrant community is growing, with more than 80 one-metre-tall koalas hidden around town. Sure, there are a few concerns regarding the changing demographics of Port Mac, but most welcome their hairy, chlamydia-riddled new neighbours. Next they’ll be asking for the vote!

    A koala-ty design

    Keeping with the theme of family, I visited with my best friend/mentor Gordon Shumway and Rory, our adopted son. Rory is a child of koala background, and it was illuminating for him to meet others of his kind. As we left the zoo, I pinched Rory’s chubby little cheek and asked him what it was like to learn more about his history and culture.

    “I guess it was cool,” Rory replied, before returning to a YouTube video featuring a woman dressed as a princess opening Kinder Surprise chocolate eggs. Kids, hey!

    Fun fact: the two adult koalas are, in fact, both male. There you go – large and progressive!

    A note from the inimitable Bigs Bardot: Unfortunately I inadvertently outed two brave and sanctimonious koalas in this article. For that I apologise unreservedly. Coming out is a process that should never be taken out of someone’s hands and, as someone whose sexuality is under constant media scrutiny, I’m ashamed of my actions.

    Geoff and Scott – you’re braver than you can ever know. I’ve left the article untouched as a tribute both to my callousness and your gallantry as gay koalas. You guys rock!

  • The Drip, Cowarra, NSW

    The Drip, Cowarra Dam, New South Wales

    H2-oh-my-gawd-it’s-awesome! The mesh-merizing Big Drip stands a pants-wetting 4.5 metres tall and can be found by the banks of the mouthwatering Cowarra Dam. The Drip made a splash when she was unveiled to a curious public in 2005, and has been making waves in the community ever since.

    Designed by aqueous artiste Peter Allison and crafted from rainless steel, the Drip is one of the most unique Big Things I’ve ever o-seen. She was conceived as a celebration of the majesty of the dam and its water, and it’s not hard to drink in the significance of this cultural icon.

    “The concept is designed to draw the attention of the viewer to the essence of what the dam site is all about – water in its micro and macro forms,” a highly-enlightening plaque states. “It is hoped that the viewer will reflect upon the enormity of our dependence on this precious resource.”

    I’d suggest that Big Things are the only true ‘precious resource’ we have a dependence on, so we’ll have to agree to disagree.

    The lovingly-landscaped littoral of the levee is a peaceful and picturesque spot to stop for a light lunch. There are modern BBQ facilities, verdant lawns, and dozens of informative signs sharing a wealth of knowledge on the area’s rich history.

    There’s even a series of stunning steel cut-outs of native Aussie animals, and kitschy boomerang-shaped picnic seats, so there’s something for everyone. Yes, Shane, even you.

    It was hoped The Drip would open the floodgates for more Big Things near Cowarra however, with the exception of the Big Bow and Arrow, that’s failed to eventu-hydrate. But that’s all water under the bridge now.

    Why not go with the flow and lake shore to visit this wet wonder – you’d have to be a real drip to miss out!

  • Joanna the Goanna, Taree, NSW

    Joanna the Goanna, Taree, New South Wales Man and giant lizard

    London. New York. Rio de Janeiro. Taree.

    There was a time, not too long ago, when this coastal oasis was one of the world’s great tourist destinations. With the Big Oyster luring fascinated fans in their millions, Taree was the playground of the rich and famous, and the centre of the Big Thing universe.

    Then this riverside paradise was bypassed by the Pacific Highway and the monumental mollusc fell into disrepair, tearing the beating heart out of the town’s tourism industry.

    The five-star resorts and lavish nightclubs closed. Taree Disneyland was no longer the happiest place on Earth. Even Jamie Oliver’s Michelin star fish and chip shop served up its final Chiko roll. Taree, tragically, had become a ghost town.

    This is the epic tail of a goanna named Joanna, who returned hope and pride to a medium-sized mid-north coast conurbation.

    Taree’d and Feathered

    May 2014. The Taree Aquatic Club. I’m on my third non-alcoholic aperol spritz with a pinch of turmeric.  With cap in hand, mayor Basil Sanchez shuffles towards me, the inimitable Bigs Bardot, seeking advice on rejuvenating the town. He spews forth convoluted plans to tidy up the CBD and plant a few new trees, but it’s clear his master plan is missing something BIG.

    “Basil,” I sigh, “if you can’t maintain prolonged prosperity with the aid of an oyster of epic proportions, then I’m not sure I can help you.” Submerged in thought, I languidly sip my reasonably-priced rambutan daiquiri as I gaze out over the mighty Manning River. “I never thought I’d say this, Basil, but perhaps oversized roadside attractions aren’t the solution to all society’s problems.”

    The mayor turns away from me, doing his best to hide the tears of shame cascading down his plump cheeks. “Bigs, I know we’ve stuffed up, but give us another chance,” he splutters. “Please, the people of Taree deserve a Big Thing they can rally behind.

    “Alright, alright. Maybe you could install a giant goanna as a tribute to the Biripi people who have inhabited the area for the past 50,000 years.”

    “But Bigs, we don’t have that sort of money. We blew our budget flying you in from the Maldives. Did you have to travel first class, Bigs?”

    “Yes I did, and the sumptuous Neil Perry-curated meals and attentive service were worth every cent.” I hold up my empty glass and Basil reluctantly shuffles off to the bar to buy me another. When he returns, trembling, I soothe him with kind words and my inimitable smile.

    Her Full name is Joanna Bigs

    “Basil,” I offer when he returns, “I’d like to introduce you to a feisty, yet approachable young lady named Joanna.”

    “Oh no, Bigs. My wife has been quite clear that if she catches me with one more – ”

    “Honestly, Basil, I’m not talking about one of your cash-crazed courtesans. Joanna is a three-metre-long wooden carving of a goanna who was lovingly created by my good friend, popular local artist Rick Reynolds. And it’s your lucky day, because Rick’s willing to donate her to the town.”

    Basil devolves into a blubbering mess, but this time he’s leaking tears of pure joy. He knows that his beloved township had been saved.

    “Bigs,” Basil shudders, “the people of Taree owe you a debt that can never be repaid. But where can we install this massive lizard?

    “Somewhere that encapsulates the verdant culture and unique identity of Taree,” I explain as I take up my Dolce & Gabbana travel purse and briefly, icily, kiss Basil farewell, “and where the locals will see her every day as they go about their business”

    Joanna the Goanna can be found outside Centrelink.

  • The Big Bicycle, Chullora, NSW

    The Big Bicycle, Chullora, New South Wales Sexy cyclist man with smile and handsome outfit

    This supersized scooter celebrates his 25th birthday in 2022, so it really let the air out of my tyres to find him discarded amongst a thicket of overgrown bushes in a rough part of Chullora.

    Although, given his location in Western Sydney, the only things more appropriate than a Big Abandoned Pushbike would be a Big Meth Pipe or a Big Single Mother.

    Ah, stereotypes, aren’t they fun!

    There are still signs of the Big Bicycle’s former glory, with his quirky hexagonal wheels barely visible from street level. Sadly, I couldn’t get near him for a reassuring cuddle, for fear of being wounded by a venomous snake or stepping on a carelessly-disposed syringe.

    Maybe I’m being velodromatic, but in all bike-lihood this Big won’t be around much longer, and that’s a wheelie big chain… I mean shame. Be puncture-al if you want to see the Bike before it’s too late!

    You can’t handlebar the truth!

    The Big Bike was assembled by Messrs John Ridley, Phillip Becker, and Andy Lugiz in 1997. At nine metres long and six metres tall, he’s far too large for a mere mortal to ride, but just right for the Big Gold Panner!

    He lived outside the Chullora Re-Cycling Centre until it rode off into the sunset a few gears ago, leading to this calamity. I attempted to contact a spokes-person about the Bike’s future, but even my super-cute cycling tunic and matching headgear couldn’t help me find answers.

    I did get some eager wolf-whistles from a group of high-spirited tradies, however. Although perhaps they were simply voicing their support for the Big Bicycle’s refurbishment in an unusual way.

    If you prefer petals to pedal, try the Big Flower! Or for a more cosmopolitan experience, roll on over to France to visit Le Gros Vélo. Cycling through Sacramento? A Life’s Ride is waiting!

    Flirting with bike-sexuality? Then Wo-Man might be just the Big for you!

    What’s happened to the Big Bicycle is a national tragedy, but serves as a further reminder that life is fleeting and needs to be savoured. The Bike is still there – for now – so don the lycra and set off on Le Tour de Chullora. You’re sure to have a peloton of fun!

  • The Big Motorcycle, Nabiac, NSW

    The Big Motorcycle, Nabiac, New South Wales Handsome, refined gentleman with large motorbike

    Get your motor runnin’
    Head out on the Pacific Highway
    Looking for a huge motorbike
    That will really make your day

    Yeah, the folks of Nabiac made it happen
    Their National Motorcycle Museum is ace
    Enough room for everyone to visit at once
    Eight hundred classic bikes you’re not allowed to race

    Normal-sized bikes are frightenin’
    Almost make me chunder!
    But if that bike’s a Big Thing
    I just stare at it in wonder!

    Yeah, Brian and Margaret Kelleher made it happen
    Their National Motorcycle Museum’s the place
    If you don’t go there you’re a dunce
    Light refreshments to stuff in your face

    Like a true Aussie child
    We were born
    Born to be wild (for Big Things)
    You’d need to climb so high
    To get up on this ride

    Born to be wild (for Big Things)
    Born to be wild (for Nabiac’s Big Motorcycle)

    Get your motor runnin’
    Head up the coast today
    Looking for a huge motorbike
    Photos are free, put your wallet away

    Yeah, motorcycle enthusiasts across the country made it happen
    By donating choppers to fill the space
    Some tough bikies told me more than once
    That my bright pink Peugeot Tweet’s a disgrace

    Like a true Aussie child
    We were born
    Born to be wild (for Big Things)
    The Big Motorcycle will make you sigh
    The folks of Nabiac must be full of pride

    Born to be wild (for Big Things)
    Born to be wild (for the largest motorcycle imaginable)

  • Big Joe, Kingswood, NSW

    Knights once roamed the vast plains of Penrith, slaying dragons and making inappropriate comments towards fair maidens. But with a severe shortage of snarling serpents in Sydney’s suburbs and the rise of the #MeToo movement, this silver stud was forced to transition into a new career.

    Meet Big Joe – friendly neighbourhood mechanic and undisputed King of the ‘Wood!

    This great big grease monkey is the star employee at Armour Automotive (aka Twin Camalot), where customers come for an oil change and stay for a photo with the armour-clad cutie. Yes, this swashbuckling sweetheart will pink slip his way into your heart, and you’ll never tyre of him!

    Whilst Joe’s a hardworking fella, he has a brother who’s a real nutter. Of course I’m talking about the magnificent Big Knight, who lives at the Macadamia Castle in Knockrow. But be warned, the two of them might be ar-more than you can handle!

    Clutch Ado About Nothing

    On my quest for the holy grail of Aussie Big Things, I indulged myself with a tour of Kingswood’s cultural landmarks and luxurious car yards. My guide was world-renowned Middle Ages historian/third-year auto-electric apprentice Maddie Eval.

    “Joe harkens from the early 21st century, and likely arrived in the Golden West abreast his trusty steed – probably a 1985 Toyota Camry,” Maddie explained, as she cleaned a dipstick on her pastel tunic. “He appears to have been built from scrap metal by a local mechanic during his spare time, or by a close friend of the auto shop’s owner. Joe is utterly fantastic.”

    “Don’t you mean auto-ly fantastic?” I quipped. “You know, because he’s out the front of a car repair shop.”

    “Joe’s around four metres tall, in a good state of repair, and available to visit even outside business hours,” Maddie gossipped, whilst checking the brake fluid in a 2004 Kia carnival. “Any moment with Joe is time well spent.”

    “Don’t you mean time wheel spent?” I smirked. “You know, because cars have wheels.”

    “Joe lives close to the Western Motorway, not far from the Big Strawberry and the Big Axe,” Maddie demystified, “so a trip to the Blue Mountains – to gasp in wonder at the Big Teapot, for instance – presents a golden opportunity to visit this very unique Big Thing.

    “Don’t you mean a Holden opportunity?” I howled. “You know, like the major automobile manufacturer that recently closed down production in Australia, despite being the inspiration for the Mini Harbour Bridge?”

    “Oh Bigs,” Maddie sighed, whilst refusing my Facebook friend request. “You’re quite exhausting.”

  • The Big Fish Head, Khancoban, NSW

    The Big Fish Head, Khancoban, New South Wales Immature man swinging from a giant fish's head

    “Gimme Fish Head” by The Stingray-diators

    Gimme fish head baby
    Gimme fish head like you did just last night
    Ah, ah, ah!

    Even when Khancoban‘s a hundred degrees
    There you are smiling at me amongst the trees
    You stink in the sun, but are still fun
    With no body, you must be dead, are you dead?
    But I don’t care, I love you, Big Fish Head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head

    You have a swing beneath the bones of your back
    You let me hang there as I gobbled a snack
    You whisper sweet things, gimme greetings
    You are my bed, you are my bed
    But best of all, I love you, Big Fish Head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head

    So… Ah say you’ll never be crabbay
    Be lovely like the nearby Yabbay
    ’Cause I’ll come back to play another day!

    Even when Khancoban’s a hundred degrees
    Each time we meet you are so eager to please
    You whisper sweet things, ’cos you’re a Big Thing
    Let’s go to bed, let’s go to bed!
    Because my dear, I love you, Big Fish Head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    You’re a fish head
    The Big Fish Head

    Suck!

  • The Big Eagle, Mt Alfred, Vic

    The Big Wedge-Tailed Eagle, Mount Alfred, Victoria

    Hey hey hey, good old Big Eagle Rock’s here to stay
    I’m just crazy ’bout his wings – so smooth
    Doin’ the Big Eagle Rock
    Oh oh oh, don’t drive past, he’s nicer than a crow
    I’m just crazy ’bout his wings – so smooth
    Doin’ the Big Eagle Rock

    Watch out, there’s a hat thief about! This enormous Wedge-Tailed Eagle soars through the skies of northern Victoria, on a tireless mission to pluck the bonnets off unsuspecting visitors.

    But even if you get away with your fedora or Akubra, he’s sure to steal something else – your heart.

    Hats off to the abs-birdly talon-ted Benjamin Gilbert and his team at Agency of Sculpture (the Big Acorns, Bogong Moth and Yabbie), this pleasant passerine was able to take up residence at the delightful Mount Alfred Gap Lookout in 2019.

    The site offers eagle-eye views of beautiful buttes and bubbling brooks, and the chance to watch real-life eagles plucking rabbits from the meadows, carrying them to great heights, and then dropping them to their doom.

    It’s not all been beer and skittles, though. In a disturbing reversal of fortune, the Eagle’s steel hat was stolen by a heartless thug in 2019. Hopefully when the police find this career criminal, he’s strung up and left for birds to peck out his eyes.

    This is certainly not the first Big Wedgie I’ve encountered, as I was often on the receiving end of a severe pants-pulling from my peers (and several of the more boisterous teachers) during my younger years.

    Yeah, but where are those bullies now? Alright, a few of them have gone on to raise families and have successful careers, and one served as the Federal Transport Minister for several years, but they’re not Australia’s leading historian on Big Things, are they?

  • The Big Bogong Moth, Tintaldra, Vic

    The Big Bogong Moth, Tintaldra, Victoria

    The tranquil hamlet of Corryong has been besieged by a plague of colossal creatures – and the locals couldn’t be happier! Since 2018 the verdant fields beside the mighty Murray River have welcomed friendly fish, a happy yabbie and an enormous eagle as focal points of the monumental Great River Road project.

    Fearing Corryong would lose its status as a world class travel destination, the local tourism board approached me – the inimitable Bigs Bardot – for assistance.

    “Well, you could drop a few billion on a new airport, an aquatic-themed fun park, a couple of resorts the size of European countries,” I told them as we peered out upon the prairies bathed in autumnal sunlight. “Or you could…”

    “… Build a Big?” one pencil pusher cautiously replied.

    “It’s going to take more than one Big if you want to lure international visitors away from Shepparton and Wodonga. Better make it five.”

    “But what shall we build?”

    “That’s up to you – maybe look into your chrysalis ball. Now, please place my sizable consultation fee in the rear pocket of my knickerbockers – I have a date with the Big Pheasant and he doesn’t like me to be tardy.”

    That time of the moth

    The first to invade the hearts and minds of Corryongians was the Big Bogong – and tourists have been drawn to her like moths to a flame! She’s taken up residence at Jim Newman’s Lookout, is made from rusted cast-iron and is large enough to provide shelter from the sun as one gaze in wonder over the lush valleys of northern Victoria.

    It’s the little things that make this Big Thing so beaut, such as the tiny, moth-shaped cut-outs in her wings, beckoning the solar radiation within, as dust motes pirouette pleasantly in the ambiance. One can only imagine the majesty of this visage on a clear, star-filled night, as moonbeams illuminate this ancient lepidopteran.

    This area was long used as a meeting place for indigenous tribes, who would gather to dance, eat and hunt down moths. Fortunately they were slightly smaller than this shed-sized specimen, or our aboriginal chums might not have survived for 50,000 years!

    The Big Bogong Moth is dedicated to these proud people, and it’s culturally appropriate for visitors to perform a respectful, understated war dance in honour of their history.

    This moth will make you froth

    Following their work on the Big Acorns, and at my insistence, Yackandandah-based artisans Agency of Sculpture were responsible for the Big Bogong Moth and the other structures in the area. Maybe they took inspiration for another of Canberra’s most beloved Big Things, the Big Bogong Moths.

    In a few short years the Big Moth has become a cater-pillars of the community. She’s certainly worth an insection, and truly presents a cocoon with a view!

  • The Big Rainbow Trout, Harrietville, Vic

    The Big Rainbow Trout, Harrietville, Victoria

    Yibbida yibbida, this is fishing expert and notorious philanderer Rex Bardot, on the hunt for the Big Rainbow Trout! And look, there she is, out front of Mountain Fresh Trout & Salmon Farm. Trust me, folks, it doesn’t get any better than this!

    If she looks familiar, that’s because the Big Rainbow Trout was the star attraction of the 2006 Commonwealth Games Opening Ceremony in Melbourne (an event I was forcibly removed from after making inappropriate comments towards several female athletes and getting my lights punched out by the Belize women’s weightlifting squad).

    Representing Cyprus, the Big Rainbow Trout was one of 72 humongous fish that swam around the MCG, symbolising the countries of the Commonwealth. They swiftly splashed their way into the hearts of a generation, much as Matilda the Kangaroo had in 1982.

    I was kicked out of that ceremony for an act of depravity, too, but the less said about it the better. Yibbida yibbida!

    My good mate Ian Thorpe, who went on to win a dizzying seven gold medals at the event, later thanked the Big Rainbow Trout and her ilk for inspiring him to success. The various aquatic vertebrates have been scattered across the length and breadth of Victoria, so grab some lemon juice, a tub of tartar sauce and track ’em down. Yibbida yibbida!

    Rex Bardot’s Fishing Misadventures

    The Big Rainbow Trout was looking pretty bloody good when we caught up so, after offering a hearty ‘Yibbida yibbida’ and a tip of my cap, I leant in for a non-consensual smooch. What started as a peck soon became a wanton display of affection that even the French would be disgusted by.

    As things rapidly proceeded towards M-rated territory and I began to remove my fishing tunic, a farmhand with a broom trotted over and chased me from the property. My boundless enthusiasm for perversion could not, however, be abated, and I sequestered myself to Bright to explore the local Thai massage parlours.

    The good people of Harrietville banded together to run me out of town, and the hate-filled mob warned me in no uncertain terms that I was not to visit any of Australia’s many fshy Big Things ever again. Not the Big Clownfish, the Big Murray Cod or the ever-amorous Big Octopus.

    “Yibbida yibbida!” I cried. “What about the other Big Trout, in Adaminaby?”
    “Definitely not the other Big Trout, in Adaminaby!” they shouted, before poking me with their pitchforks.

    They’ll soon learn what countless innocent young ladies already have – that Rex Bardot doesn’t take no for an answer.

    Yibbida yibbida!

    Please note: This entry was written ‘in character’ as a spoof of troubled celebrity fisherman Rex Hunt. I did not – and never would – kiss one of our wondrous Big Things against his, her or their wishes. I have also never ventured inside a massage parlour, Thai or otherwise, as I’m not overly fond of human contact.

  • The Big Octopus, Lakes Entrance, Vic

    The Big Octopus, lakes Entrance, Victoria

    “The Big Octopus’s Garden”

    I’d like to be
    Right by the sea
    In the Big Octopus’s garden
    Wearing suede

    He’d let me in
    To see his collection
    Of shells and coral and even
    A model railway

    I’d ask my friends
    To come and see
    The Griffith’s Sea Shell Museum
    With me

    I’d like to dance
    Through Lakes Entrance
    To the Big Octopus’s garden
    Without my pants

    His cuddles have charms
    Because he has eight arms
    After admiring him for hours
    There’ll be romance

    Kissing his bulbous head
    Dreaming of being wed
    In the Big Octopus’s garden
    He really enchants

    We would sing
    And wave our limbs around
    Because we know
    That our love abounds

    I’d like to be
    A few hundred metres from the sea
    In the Big Octopus’s garden
    My love won’t fade

    We would shout
    And wiggle our suckers about
    Our relationship has no lies
    Beneath the waves

    Oh what joy
    For this mollusc and boy
    Knowing we’re happy
    And we’re safe

    We would be so happy
    ‘pus and Biggie
    No one there to tell us
    That an oversized recreation of a cephalopod and a 38-year-old man can’t have a meaningful relationship

    I’d like to be
    Just over the Cunninghame Arm Foot Bridge from the sea
    In the Big Octopus’s garden
    With my boo

    In the Big Octopus’s garden
    With my boo
    Unfortunately the Big Octopus
    Just did a poo

  • The Big Clownfish, Lakes Entrance, Vic

    The Big Clownfish, Lakes Entrance, Victoria

    Ladies and jellyfish, barras and gilas, pilchards of all ages. Please welcome the mystical, magical, great Big Clownfish! Bright and beautiful, this silly sausage is trapezy to find outside Lakes Caravilla Caravan Park, and you’ll feel like a bozo if you pass him by.

    He’s certainly hard to fish – I mean miss – because the tropical delight is right beside the main road into town. You might find this hard to swallow, but it’s even possible to clamber inside his stunning smile

    Yes, he’s handsome, but don’t tell the Clownfish that, because he’ll think you’re just fishing for compliments!

    This happy chappy was the clowning achievement of one George Holding, and served as the fish de résistance of the 1976 Moomba parade in Melbourne. The Clownfish then spent the next decade or so swimming up and down the picturesque boulevards of Lakes Entrance – also home to the Big Octopus – as the star attraction of various festivals and celebr-oceans.

    The Big Clownfish found his forever home in 1987, when then-owner of Lakes Caravilla, Darlene Freeman, aqua-red him from the local Chamber of Commerce. She then fin-stalled the cute clown out the front of her business to bring joy to the community, which was a nice jester.

    This clown ain’t big enough for the both of us. Oh wait, yes he is!

    I’ve struggled with acute coulrophobia since an unsavoury encounter with a Ronald McDonald impersonator during my formative years, so was gill-ty of feeling apprehensive as I climbed betwixt his insatiable lips.

    It was no laughing matter, however, when I discovered this Clown not only looks funny, he smells funny too. Sadly it seemed some joker had urinated within the cavernous bowels of this scaly scamp.

    After taking another dozen or so photos – most of which were super cute – I burst from the Clownfish’s maw like Jonah from the Whale, and proceeded straight to the local constabulary to report this fish-graceful offence.

    Honestly, a lengthy prison sentence is too good for any cretin who would befoul a Big Thing’s luscious mouth. Let the scallywag sleep with the fishes, I say – and not in the good way!

    Ultimately, I had a big top day out. Now, orange ya glad I told you about the Big Clownfish?

  • The Big Cigar, Churchill, Vic

    The Big Cigar, Churchill, Victoria

    Come to Churchill, dear boy, see the Cigar
    You’re gonna ooh and ah, you’re gonna sigh
    You’re never gonna cry
    You can even touch it if you try
    The Cigar’s gonna love you

    Holy smokes, this stupendous stogie will light up your life! The 32-metre-tall Big Cigar was unveiled by the Victorian Housing Commission on December 21, 1967, as a symbol of hope for the fledgling community of Churchill. Five decades later, it’s still a won-durrie-ful tribute to the region’s favourite pastime

    Despite having a nice butt, the Big Cigar wasn’t designed to look like a cancer stick and was given the uninspired title of ‘The Spire’. The locals, most of whom toiled away at the Hazelwood Power Station, were divided on what it looked like. Some said a lava lamp, others said a fondue stick. It was the ’60s, after all.

    One sweltering day a personable drunk climbed out of the gutter and decided it looked more like one of Winston Churchill’s famous cigars. Passersby ignored his lunatic ramblings, but the inebriant persisted with his declaration of love for the peculiar pillar.

    “I shall fight on the beaches,” the miscreant wailed, resting upon his walking stick. “I shall fight on the landing grounds, I shall fight in the fields and in the streets, I shall fight in the hills; I shall never surrender my belief that this monument should be known as the Big Cigar.”

    The rest of the townsfolk shrugged and told him to go for it, and so here we are – the Big Cigar. I guess you Winston, you lose some

    Did I tell you I once came second in a Winston Churchill lookalike contest? Close, but no cigar!

    The Big Cigar is well-maintained and centrally located at the local shops, so a visit will probably come with a domestic dispute and some petty theft. Lights were added to the Cigar in 1999 and the dapper wall at the base was built in 1990, in honour of the area’s farmers.

    A giant ear of corn would’ve been more appropriate, but the nearby Big Spuds and Big Chicken should appease all agricultural ambitions.

    During my photo shoot, a stern-faced policeman stormed over. Waggling his finger, he snarled, “Oi mate, no smoking allowed!”

    “Sorry, officer,” I replied with a wink. “I’ll try to be quieter next time.”

    WARNING: Smoking causes lung cancer, blindness, and can harm your unborn baby. But I look super cute whilst puffing on a cigar, so I guess it all evens out!

  • The Big Spuds and Forks, Trafalgar, Vic

    The Big Spuds and Forks, Trafalgar, Victoria

    Howdy pardner, this is your old friend Biggie the Kid! Your regular host Bigs Bardot is struggling through a low-carb diet, so it’s up to me to tell you all about the Big Spuds and Forks. Just look at my tough-guy hat and genuine 18th-century baby blue short-shorts – yee-haw!

    Every man comes to a fork in the road at some point in his life, so gather round as I tell you a tale of love, loss, and Big Things.

    I was moseying on through the badlands of Trafalgar, on the trail of ol’ One-Eyed Willie, when I spotted something that dang near made my heart leap out of my chest. No, not a discounted Louis Vuitton clutch bag with a pearl clasp and space for a whole box of bullets – five gigantic taters, each just as round and beautiful as a junebug on a hot summer’s night.

    But what was that over yonder, ya’ll? Pokin’ out of them there taters? Dadgum! If it wasn’t five enormous forks, then my name ain’t Biggie Charlene Kid!

    My trusty steed and confidant Liberace didn’t need much convincin’ to gallop on over for a gander, and soon I was fraternising with the spuds in a robust yet respectful way. Sure I might be the fastest undresser in the west, but I’m also a gentleman, y’hear.

    What a Spudmuffin!

    These here taters live right outside the famous Spud Shed, where you’ll find more starchy tubers than you can shake a rattlesnake at. Oh, and the quince relish is truly a thing of beauty – just like my ol’ mama used to make.

    A passing injun told me the sculpture was erected in 2008 to celebrate the Year of the Tater, and was originally on display for them there city slickers in the Big Smoke – y’know, pardner, Melbourne. But maybe that injun had been indulging in some Big Smoke of his own.

    As he rode off into the sunset, the injun told me a fanciful tale about another prodigious potato. Basking in the sunshine of the far-flung settlement of Robertson, this one’s supposedly the size of a house and worshipped by the natives. Dang injun, I thought he’d start tellin’ me about massive Sprouts, Pheasants, Chickens and Dogs.

    As Liberace and I swaggered out of the badlands of Trafalgar, on the trail of ol’ One-Eyed Willie, I lit myself a cigar and stared out at the bleeding sunset. “There are two kinds of people in the world,” I sighed. “Those with guns and those that dig giant statues of taters with forks stuck in them. And I ain’t got me a gun.”

    Please note; in the interests of transparency, I should reveal that it was actually me – the inimitable Bigs Bardot – who wrote this entry, in character as a bit of fun. Teehee – fooled ya!

  • Ernie, Shepparton, Vic

    Please welcome the flag waving, money saving, always smiling, quite beguiling, 18-foot-high, super-nice guy… Ernie the Giant Tractor Salesman! This gregarious goliath has been Shepparton’s most eligible bachelor for more than three decades, and currently works at the family-owned Konigs Agricultural Supermarket.

    The eternally-eleemosynary Ernie started work way back in 1992, and is yet to miss a day! He’s polite, kind and never shies away from a photo, so it’s always the right time for a Weekend at Ernie’s.

    “People may not know the word Konigs, but if they want to know where we are they say look for the big man who flies the flag,” owner Leo Schoonderbeek recalled during his company’s 25th birthday extravaganza. “I think there are generations now in Shepparton that know Ernie from their younger days.”

    Ernie was the friendly face of Shepparton long before he moved in with Leo and the gang. He was originally constructed to sell quality cars, and was hauled around to school fetes and baby showers. He was, of course, always a gentleman and very well regarded within the community.

    “Ernie was a pro­mo­tional item for Ford New Hol­land for a num­ber of years. They called him for ten­ders and I bought him. The main rea­son was to add an at­trac­tion to our busi­ness.’’

    Come for the giant statue of a handsome man, stay for the extensive collection of reasonably-priced farm machinery!

    Ernie was packed and ready to move into his new digs. The Konigs team were preparing for an era of unprecedented success. But disaster was just around the corner, and Ernie almost never made it to his new home.

    Where’s your head at?

    “A truck arrives one day, a big semi-trailer with three boxes,” Leo recounted with a look of shock upon his face. “They were quite huge boxes, we opened the biggest and that was Ernie’s head. There were only two boxes left and I said, ‘Well something’s wrong here!’

    “We opened another box and it was one arm, and then there was hardly anything left so we opened the third box and it was his other arm. There was no torso for Ernie! I’m on the phone saying, ‘Fellas, there’s something wrong, I’ve only got two arms and a head’. The search was on to find Ernie.

    “Apparently what they had sent was Ernie’s spare parts. They went and searched for Ernie and found that one of the dealers hadn’t returned him so they had to box the complete Ernie up and send him across.”

    Finally, Ernie was installed on a sunny Saturday afternoon with the help of a crane. Most Sheppartonians were on hand to welcome their newest – and by far largest! – resident. It wasn’t to be Ernie’s forever home, however, with Konigs relocating in 1995 to the current premises. The big boy’s certainly moved around a lot for a fella with no legs!

    Ernie to the Centre of the Earth

    Ernie is one of the most imposing Big Things in Australia, dwarfing other humongous humans such as the Coota Giant and the Big Girl. He’s been lovingly maintained and looks every bit as dashing as the day he swaggered into Shepparton. 

    Ernie’s so charming, in fact, that he made it seem like a good idea to buy a Deutz Agrotron 265 tractor with a turbo charged engine, four-speed powershift transmission and a set of four electronic remote valves. I live in a third-floor condominium in Newtown, so I’m not sure what I’ll do with it. Ah well, maybe I can use it to trim the shag-pile carpet.

    Oh, and how much does Ernie weigh? About six Sheppar-tonnes!

  • Arthur Sprout, Coldstream, Vic

    Arthur the Big Brussels Sprout, Coldstream, Victoria

    Brussels sprouts; two words that strike fear into the hearts of children. The bitter, chartreuse vegetables have been responsible for countless dinnertime meltdowns and turned generations of youngsters off their greens for life. But one gentleman has risen up against the hatred, with a cheeky smile and a zealous thumbs-up as his only weapons.

    Arthur Sprout, who stands sentinel in front of Adams Farms, has dedicated his young life to giving the despised veggie a friendlier face. The Yarra Valley’s most unlikely sex symbol has been turning heads and smashing prejudices since 2015 – and he’s slowly winning the war against anti-sproutism.

    Arthur’s sanguine posture speaks volumes, yet this sprout-going chap is a man of few words. Thankfully fellow Brussels sprout activist Bruce Adams – the owner of Adams Farms and the man who brought Arthur to life – is more than happy to tell this sproutlandish story.

    Twist and Sprout!

    The seeds of Arthur’s journey were planted a few hours north of his current location. During his regular pilgrimage to the Big Strawberry at Koonoomoo, Bruce was struck by an idea so marvellous he needed to have a good lie down afterwards.

    “I thought, ‘Oh, maybe we should have a Big Sprout,’” Bruce told a dumbfounded journo from The Monthly. Most of us have had the same idea, but Bruce actually made it happen. Sadly, it wasn’t all smooth sailing, with anti-sproutites doing whatever they could to get in the way.

    “There were a lot of issues with the council,” Bruce explained. “Not in relation to his height, but with where I could put it. I wanted it at the front of the property but they wouldn’t let me put it there. They wanted it back further. They wanted it way back ‘cos they basically said to me in the end, ‘You can have it but we really don’t want people to see it.’”

    Arthur – named after Bruce’s father – was unveiled during the 2015 Sprout Fest, which is like Woodstock for fruit and veg fanatics. Featured artists included Ba Na Na, Carlos Sultana and Canned Beet.

    As a result Arthur stands a good way back from the main road, giving him an unassuming charm and heart-warming shyness that needs to be seen to be believed. With his farmer’s hat and rustic overalls, he’s one of the best-dressed Bigs in Australia.

    Most importantly, ‘the Muscles of Brussels’ is winning over the locals, one sprout at a time.

    Out and About with Arthur Sprout

    My date with Arthur was a bittersweet experience, as it brought back memories of tear-stained dinner parties with my abusive stepfather Craig. As he and the rest of the family tucked into delicious fried chicken, Craig would load my plate high with uncooked Brussels sprouts and not allow me to leave the table until every single morsel had been consumed.

    Often I would pass out from sheer exhaustion, unable to bring myself to gorge on my waterlogged tormentors. I would wake in the dead of night, the house silent and the unwanted spouts edging ever closer. Their tiny leaves seemed to mock me.

    In retrospect it was probably Craig’s way of forcing me to run away from home, which I finally did at the tender age of 24. I’ve never been able to look at a Brussels sprout since.

    And so it was with deep reservations that I rolled into rural Coldstream, unsure whether I was ready to face my fears. Would I break down in tears upon seeing the giant sprout, as memories of my abusive stepfather washed over me? Would I become enraged at the thought of a youth shattered by this bulbous vegetable?

    After seeing Arthur’s cheerful face and roguish gesturing, my troubled soul was put at ease.

    It was as if decades of fear and loathing were lifted from my shoulders, and I felt nothing but love and admiration for him and his kind. I was reduced to a blubbering mess and, after a cuddle, even purchased a small tray of well-priced and beautifully-presented sprouts.

    Without the shadow of my stepfather brooding over me, I found the spouts to be surprisingly nutty and very moreish, especially with a generous dollop of mango chutney.

    Craig, it seems, was just a crap cook.

    That’s Sproutstanding!

    After saying my goodbyes to Arthur, I kissed his rubenesque thorax one last time and turned to leave. Just then, a hotted-up Kia Rio rolled up to the farm and paused beneath the shade of a poplar tree. As the engine continued to cough and wheeze, one window slowly rolled down, and two acne-riddled faces, punctuated by the deadest eyes I’ve ever seen, pushed their way into the dying sunlight.

    “Go back to where you came from, Sprouty!” screamed one of the hate-filled youngsters.
    “Yeah, go back to Belgium, where Brussels sprouts have been cultivated since the 13th century!” warbled his mate.

    “Actually,” I shrieked, hurling sprouts at their hotrod, “there’s scientific evidence that the Ancient Romans propagated a similar vegetable 2000 years earlier.”

    “Go back to Ancient Romania then, Sprouty!” yelled the hatemongers, their malicious diatribe hanging heavy in the air long after they had peeled out of the carpark.

    The impregnable Arthur Sprout, as always, simply fired back with that machine gun smile of his.

  • Rutherglen Wine Bottle, Rutherglen, VIC

    The Rutherglen Wine Bottle, Rutherglen, Victoria

    Should you visit Rutherglen’s Big Wine Bottle? Wine not! This 36-metre-tall flagon is a real corker, so it stands to riesling that you should make a chardo-day of it and head to Victoria’s premier wine-growing region.

    The Big Bottle looms large over Rutherglen, and can be seen from most of the town’s leafy streets and verdant parks. It casts an imposing figure, with its mixture of brutalist red brick architecture and quirky, weathered top. It’s unique and odd, certainly, but also feels like an organic part of this beautiful village.

    The fascinating tale of this vast vial dates back to the early 1900s. Starting life as a water tower for the growing township, the structure could be seen for miles around and quickly became a symbol of pride in Rutherglen. It was taken out of service in the swingin’ ’60s – but you decant keep a good Big Thing down!

    Late one boozy night during the 1967 Rutherglen Wine Festival, some bright spark suggested converting the water tower into an enormous jar of plonk. The town’s drunkards agreed it was a fantastic idea, and began scribbling ideas for it on the back of coasters.

    It was a big cask, but the locals rosé to the occasion. Hundreds of Rutherglenwegians constructed the sturdy mesh top of the bottle, then came to grapes with the difficult installation. Ah well, no champagne, no gain!

    Goon enough, the region’s newest tourist attraction was ready to go. The Bottle was lovingly restored in 2014 – perhaps in reaction to the Pokolbin Bottle’s growing celebrity – and has certainly aged like a fine wine. I know I can be less than enthusiastic about Big Things that started out as unremarkable buildings, such as the Big Miner’s Lamp, but the unabashed enthusiasm the people of Rutherglen show for the Bottle make it a real glass act!

    Big, big wine, stay close to me
    Don’t let me be alone
    It’s tearing apart my blue heart

    I was hoping for vine weather during my date with the Big Bottle, but it ended up being wetter than dipsomniac’s lunch. That wasn’t going to stop me, so I procured an ornate vessel of alcohol-free De Bortoli Melba Amphora Cabernet Sauvignon for a picnic beneath the colossal carafe.

    As the Cab Sav’s dreamlike, serotinal aromas washed over me like a comforting, yet scintillating couverture, and my mouth was filled with sophisticated, nostalgic, compassionate, epicurean flavours (oh, is that a hint of nutmeg?), I was sequestered away upon the cloying breeze to a simpler and more delicate time.

    The voluptuous mixture of perfectly-manicured wine and an astonishingly proportioned Big Thing proved utterly intoxicating. Swaying giddily from my encounter, I found myself in no state to drive, and was forced to sleep in my car like a common drunk. 

    I awoke several times during that cold, windswept evening, my skin glistening with sweat and my eyes frantically searching for the Bottle. My attempts to resist it were futile, and I would rise, trembling, and stagger on withered legs through the gloom towards my fate.

    As I embraced the Bottle, tears running down my cheeks before being washed into the gutter by the beating deluge, I told myself that I could stop cuddling him any time I wished. Deep down, within my shuddering heart, I knew it to be a falsehood. The seams of life’s rich tapestry were becoming frayed, and I was utterly addicted. 

    My name is Bigs Bardot and I’m a Big Bottle-oholic… and loving every minute of it!

  • Bradman’s Bat, Cootamundra, NSW

    Don Bradman's bat and Stumps, Cootamundra, New South Wales

    He’s more than just a Big Bat
    He’s the source of Coota’s pride
    He’s more than just one Big Thing
    He has some stumps by his side
    Fathers take their sons to Bradman’s Bat ’cause they find it’s really, really grand!

    The rustic regional village of Cootamundra has plenty to be proud of, but the locals hold cricket legend Don Bradman closer to their hearts than anything else. And with good reason – the town’s favourite son grew up to become the greatest sportsman the world has ever known, and a hero across the globe.

    The Don was born in Coota in 1908 and, although he moved on to greener pastures as a toddler, his time there set him on the path to greatness. Apparently he was nigh-on unstoppable during his crèche cricket matches and he would’ve been picked for the Cootamundra First XI if the matches didn’t clash with his naptime.

    I’d struggle to explain the difference between a googly and a doosra, but as an Aussie I know just how good Bradman was, and how important he was to this country. It’s a burden that I, as ‘the Bradman of the Big Thing community’, carry today.

    He smashed every record laid out before him, most of which will never be matched. The Don terrorised opposition bowlers, captained Australia to unprecedented success, and carried the hopes of a nation upon his rugged shoulders. But perhaps his greatest achievement was inspiring this wonderful Big Thing.

    Bat’s incredible!

    The Bat and Stumps were erected at Don Bradman Oval during Coota’s Big Thing frenzy of 1975, when The Giant also came to town. Standing eight metres tall, they’re a towering monument to a towering career, and plenty of fun to play cricket in front of if you’re the sporty type. They’re just metres from Don’s birthplace, which now houses a museum dedicated to the great man. Everything in there is normal-sized, though, which is a shame.

    As the ever-delightful Graham Gouldman from 10cc would say, “I don’t like these oversized pieces of cricket equipment – I love them!”

    A nation mourned as one when The Don left us in 2001, and it’s since become a right of passage for Australians to visit the Giant Bat and Stumps to honour him. Sadly, they’ve become run down and are badly in need of a lick of paint – and that’s just not cricket as far as I’m concerned.

    The local tourism board are also hoping to raise money to throw a Big Cricket Ball into the mix. Maybe Alan Davidson could lend them one of his? If you’d like to help out, the girls at the Coota Heritage Centre are more than happy to take your donation and give you some spirited conversation in return.

    All in all, I rate Don’s Bat and Stumps an impressive 99.94 out of 100!

  • The Giant, Cootamundra, NSW

    The Giant, Cootamundra, New South Wales, Australia

    Fee-fi-fo-fum
    Look at me with my massive chum
    He be large and he be hairy
    But the Coota Giant is never scary!

    Now THIS is a Giant worth climbing up a beanstalk for! The Cootamundra Giant is enormous, approachable, fun to take a photo with… and, best of all, he won’t try to gobble you up! But this big boy has a story even larger than his smile, which is certainly saying something.

    The Big, Friendly Giant is an affable chap with a jocular disposition, welcoming visitors to the well-appointed Cootamundra Heritage Centre. He’s also a bit of a scallywag, as he’s eternally pointing towards his crotch. Whether that’s a ‘big thing’ or not, I am not at liberty to say!

    The benevolent behemoth bounded into Coota sometime around 1975 (nobody really remembers when), thanks to a local artiste (nobody really remembers who). He first lurked outside the Giant Supermarket, luring in hordes of fascinated customers and leading to an economic boom in the region not seen since the gold rush.

    Tragically, this fairy tale was to become a horror story. The store’s focus shifted from Giant-related souvenirs and nik-naks, complete with name changes to ‘U-Mark-It’, ‘Half-Case Warehouse’, ‘Payless’, and the ludicrous ‘Food World’. The behemoth was forgotten and left to wither in the merciless Riverina sun.

    His smile, once known as ‘the ray of sunlight that warms Coota’, began to fade. It seemed as if Cootamundra, stepping daintily towards the new millennium, was ready to leave its icon behind. But local florists Allan and Phuong Jenkins weren’t going to let that happen, buying The Giant in the early-80s and relocating him outside their shop.

    I’m not dande-lyin’ when I say things have been pretty rosy since then.

    He’s been everywhere, man!

    Even though he’s the most popular chap in town, The Jolly Green Giant isn’t allowed into any of Coota’s pubs – because he’s legless! Ernie the Shepparton Giant suffers a similar disability, so maybe they can form a support group or something. Despite this setback, he’s surprisingly well-traveled and has even completed a lap of Australia.

    Alan, known for being as fit as a fiddle, participated in a Round-Australia fundraising marathon in 1985. His support vehicle had some spare space after the Dencorub and spare socks were loaded up, so Alan strapped The Giant in and took him for a ride around Oz.

    Crowds flocked in their thousands to watch The Giant roll by. Not even the Queen, Pope or Guy Sebastian commanded such crowds. As a toddler, I was crushed by a baying mob as we chased the Giant down the dusty main street of my hometown. The physical trauma healed with time, but the mental scars shall last a lifetime.

    The Jenkins family donated The Giant to the people of Coota in 2014, so that generations to come could bask in his glory. He was fully restored by Robert Newman, whose brother Jim completed the original paintwork all those decades ago. Well, Mother Teresa did say that the family that paints enormous roadside attractions together, stays together.

    If you’re wondering how The Giant stays so trim, it’s by playing cricket with his neighbour, Don Bradman’s Bat and Stumps. Maybe he could invite the Gold Panner, Knight, Wo-Man and both Ned Kellys around for a game of six-and-out. He probably also pops over to Young to feast on the Big Cherries as well!

    Yes, it’s been quite a ride for this kindly ogre. He’s been to the heights of fame and the brink of destruction; to the furthest richest of this great country and deep inside all our hearts. But, for now, he’s happily enjoying retirement in this pleasant rural community.

    One thing’s for sure – they don’t come much cuter than the king of Coota!

  • Lord Hanuman, Batu Caves, Malaysia

    Lord Hanuman, Batu Caves, Malaysia

    He’s chimp-ly irresistible! This 15-metre-tail repro-douc-tion of the Hindu monkey god Lord Hanuman sits on primate real estate in front of the Batu Caves, and promises a gorill-a-minute experience – but that’s a gibbon!

    You may have ape expectations for this marmoset-piece, and I’m happy to lesusa-nnounce he’s a total babe-oon, from his simian-kles to his capu-chin. He’s also a very urakaring individual. They just don’t macaque them like this anymore.

    I can take it no langur! Lord Hanuman is tamarin-credible, and I rhesus-pect you’ll find him just as titi-lating as I did. He’s ex-saki-ly the sort of orangutan-tilising fellow who leaves you begging for le-mur. I don’t bo-know-bo how I ever lived without him.

    Lord Hanuman, quite obviously, has the mon-key to my heart. OMG – probosc-is it getting hot in here?

    OK, some of these jokes have been howlers, but you should know the mandrill by now!

  • Lord Murugan, Batu Caves, Malaysia

    Lord Murugan Statue, Batu Caves, Malaysia

    He might be the Hindu God of War, but Lord Murugan just wants to win the battle for your heart. This tall, dark and handsome gentleman is 42.7 metres from fetching feet to friendly forehead, and can be found in front of the world-renowned Batu Caves.

    Murugan is the tallest statue of a Hindu deity in Malaysia, the third-tallest Hindu on Earth, and the biggest version of this particular God ever created. It took three years, 350 tonnes of steel, 1550 cubic metres of concrete, 300 litres of paint and a whole lotta love to have him looking so dapper.

    Speaking of dapper, check out that baby-faced Bigs Bardot (complete with tough guy sunnies and Caribbean-inspired afro) standing with the Lord. Watch out, ladies, there’s a confirmed bachelor on the prowl!

    Batu wait, there’s more!

    Batu Caves are a sight to behold, rising nearly one hundred metres above the sprawling metropolis of Kuala Lumpur. This beautiful limestone grotto is 400 million years old, with 272 colourful steps sequestering visitors into the bowels of the mountain. There, ancient relics beckon, enchanting millions of Hindus each year.

    Murugan was introduced to his throngs of admirers in January 2006 during the Thaipusam festival. Without wanting to blow my own trumpet, I was a guest of honour at his grand unveiling. The local Tamil people were intrigued by my unique relationship with Big Things, as well as my well-known religious zealotry, and had asked me to oversee the project. Of course I said, ‘ஆம்’!

    There was talk of adding a giant statue of Bigs Bardot to the other side of the stairs – you know, just to even things up – but I’m a humble fellow and said ‘இல்லை’. Let Lord Murugan have his time in the spotlight.

    This golden goliath isn’t likely to get lonely, because his best pri-mate, the monkey god Lord Hanuman, is gorill-y close by. Not planning a trip to Kuala Lumpur? If you’re passing by Mauritus, pop in to see the world’s biggest statue of the Hindu god Durga Maa. At 33 metres, she’s not as big as Murugan, but still Maa-ty large.

    Honestly, I’m not sure what’s the most outrageous – the size of Lord Murugan, or the fact I allowed myself to be photographed in a beer singlet!

  • Le Grand Velo, lac d’Annecy, France

    Le Grand Velo, Lac d'Annecy, France

    When I heard rumours of a giant bicycle rolling through the verdant hills of Lac d’Annecy, I contacted someone who knows a thing or two about riding around the Alps – former Tour de France champion Cadel Evans. ‘Cuddles’ is a self-confessed Big Thing tragic and became a professional cyclist to finance a trip to the Big Oyster, so he was only too happy to offer me a guided tour of Le Grand Vélo.

    However, we had a fairly aggressive altercation regarding the correct meal pairing for a bottle of Vin de Paille, so Cadel took his bike and went home. It’s a long ride back to Katherine, Cuddles!

    The joke was on me, though, because his replacement was the improbably-named Jean-Claude Van Ham, a journeyman cyclist whose greatest achievement was crashing into a horse during the second stage of the 1996 Tour.

    Despite this complete lack of success during his cycling career, Jean-Claude wouldn’t stop complaining about how he could have won Le Tour if it wasn’t for Neil Armstrong and his steroids. Jean-Claude’s soupe à l’oignon was too cold? Blame it on Neil. Jean-Claude’s mistress wasn’t answering his calls? She must be off with Neil, of course.

    There we were, admiring Le Gros Vélo as Mont Blanc reached for the sky above us, and Jean-Claude wouldn’t stop talking about Neil bloomin’ Armstrong. Everything was ‘Neil this’ and ‘Neil that’ and ‘Neil sent me into a deep depression from which there is no escape’. It was really putting a dampener on my day.

    I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle

    “Honestly, Jean-Claude, give it a rest,” I finally snapped. “You live in the most beautiful place on Earth. You’re an extremely handsome man with a robust physique and deep blue eyes that one can’t help drowning within. Your calves are more like full-grown Blonde d’Aquitaine cows. And you have this delightful Big Thing, carved from the finest French timber, to marvel at every day. Are you even aware that it was constructed for the 10th stage of the 2018 Tour de France, which circumnavigated this very lake?

    “Sure, you lost a bike race – big deal, it happens. I lost Celebrity Big Brother 2014 to Meshel Laurie and you don’t see me crying about it all the time. I’m Australia’s darling, the inimitable Bigs Bardot, and this busy-body abused the power of social media to pluck victory from my well-manicured hands. Sure, I went on to win Celebrity Splash later that year. But the ratings were modest at best, and the rest of the cast largely forgettable.

    “I have my own Neil Armstrong, Jean-Claude, and her name is Meshel Laurie.”

    I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle (c’mon), bicycle

    “Oui, oui, you are correct,” Jean-Claude replied, turning his head in a futile attempt to hide the tears in his deep blue eyes. “You did deserve to win Celebrity Big Brother 2014. Meshel Laurie’s manipulation of the voting system was both, how you say? Egregious and indicative of the lack of government regulation of reality television voting processes in Australia. I have thrown away my life chasing the ghosts of my past, when I should be here admiring the Big Bicycle. Monsieur Bigs, how can I ever make it up to you?”

    “Just pretend to ride the bike with me for a photo, Jean-Claude. It’s the least you can do. And then you can pedal off and get your life together.”

    “Ah, la vache! It is fortunate you do not actually want to ride this bicycle,” sniffed Jean-Claude as the camera snapped, “because it wooden start!”
    “Mon ami,” I said as I embraced Jean-Claude warmly, “that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all day. Let’s go get some reblochon and watch a Gérard Depardieu movie!”

    Jean-Claude proved to be the perfect guest, expertly pairing a spirited and honey-kissed 2011 Domaine Pignier Côtes du Jura Vin de Paille with a decadent slice of crème brûlée as we thrilled to the cinematic delights of Cyrano de Bergerac. After a tearful goodbye, Jean-Claude dragged himself atop his bicycle and proceeded to ride it straight into the nearest horse. Old habits die hard, I guess.

  • The Big Headphones, Newcastle, NSW

    The Big Headphones, Newcastle, New South Wales

    Yo, yo, yo! Put your hands in the air like you just don’t care about anything other than Big Things! This is Fatboy Big in da house… or, more precisely, betwixt the Big Headphones! Should you hip hop long to see these merry music-makers? Tune in to find out!

    Looming loud and proud in the Beats-ing heart of Newcastle, it’ll come as music to your ears to hear that these cans are absolutely wonderful. The sense of scale is astonishing, the artwork mesmerising. They fit in well amongst the trendy cafes and breakdancing youths that decorate this cosmopolitan metropolis. There are even some turn-tbles nearby where you can eat your lunch.

    The noble noisemakers were created by the talented Mark Tisdell, who certainly didn’t ‘phone it in, and danced into Darby Street in 2015. “I wanted something for people to walk past and be like, ‘What the…?’” Marky Mark revealed to a flabbergasted journo from the Newcastle Herald.

    Fortunately, Mark, I was slightly more eloquent when I first met them. But I love your work, brother!

    Play that funky music, Bardot!

    The Big Headphones aren’t just pretty, they’re practical. Dump your rump beneath them and guffaw in wonder as music from local artistes washes over you.

    Tragically, I was present for several hours without being graced by the dulcet tones of local legend Super Hubert. Rest assured, I’ve sent Newcastle mayor Nuatali Nelmes several strongly-worded emails and expect this oversight to be rectified soon.

    Novocastrians with musical tendencies can also plop a guitar or bassoon into the Headphones for an impromptu performance. However, when I plugged in a microphone and launched into a medley of Sheb Wooley classics, I was subjected to a series of cruel taunts. The Monster Mash is wasted on some people.

    The hefty Headphones are just a dubstep and a jump from the Big Doc Martens. For more musical marvelry, check out the Big Golden Guitar, the Big Playable Guitar, and the Colossal Compact Disc. It would be a sound decision to visit them all!

    Oh, and it should go without saying, but after this dalliance I certainly consider myself a phonosexual!

  • The Big Boomerang, Williamtown, NSW

    The Big Boomerang, Williamtown, New South Wales

    The Hanging Gardens of Babylon. The World Trade Center. Nambour’s Big Pineapple. Time has claimed many of mankind’s greatest achievements, and it’s with a heavy heart that I add one more wonder to this sombre list; the Big Boomerang.

    This curved cutie welcomed visitors to the Murrook Cultural Centre for many years, and was taken down in late-2018 due to renovations. The owners promised his retirement was temporary, but apparently this was little more than a throwaway line. 

    I had a spring in my step when I popped in to see ‘Boomer’ in late-2021. We’d spent many memorable days together during our formative years, and I was excited to see my old mate again. Imagine my disgust when I found him dumped in a dusty corner of the centre’s car park, up against an old shipping container.

    The ravages of Port Stephens’ balmy sub-tropical climate had left ‘Boomer’ a shadow of his former self. In his prime, this idol deliciously large and exceptionally bright, but now he was limp, listless, devoid of colour and life. The Boomerang was in pieces and so, tragically, was Bigs Bardot. I wept openly for my fallen comrade.

    To make things worse, there was an inflatable Santa Claus in the Boomerang’s place when I arrived – and you know how I feel about tacky blow-up dolls. Santa, you can ho-ho-go away!

    Six white boomers? No white boomers 🙁

    For a place that claims to be a Cultural Centre, Murrook doesn’t have a lot of respect for one of Australia’s most loveable larrikins. When I stormed inside, knocking over racks of postcards and demanding answers, the girl behind the counter seemed more interested in raising the attention of a security guard than returning the Big Boomerang to his former glory.

    As I was pinned to the floor by a powerfully-built guard named Dion, I realised the terror the Boomerang must have experienced during his final moments.

    “Just toss me into the car park,” I wailed. “That’s what you do with much-loved icons, isn’t it?”

    Unfortunately I can’t say much more due to the upcoming court case. Although Dion, which moisturiser do you use? That was the smoothest roughing-up I’ve ever endured!

    Boom, boom, boom, boom!

    During his few short years on this planet, the Boomerang symbolised everything good about Australia’s beautiful Big Things. A fusion of ancient culture and modern sensibilities designed to entertain and educate, he became an icon of his community and beloved by millions. The Big Boomerang was fiercely proud of his indigenous heritage and took great joy in telling the stories of his people. And now he’s falling apart in a car park.

    Sadly, my friends, not all boomerangs come back.

  • Mammoth and Baby Mammoth, Nadym, Russia

    Mammoth and Baby Mammoth, Nadym, Russia

    My unquenchable thirst for Big Things has taken me to some of the most beautiful and wondrous places on earth. It also dragged me through the frozen wastelands of northern Siberia, to the decaying industrial town of Nadym.

    I was lured to this remote corner of Russia by fellow Big Thing enthusiast Yevgeny Kafelnikov. No, not the world famous tennis player – every second Russian seems to be called that. Yevgeny enchanted me with tales about a mammoth of immense size, so I spent several months hitchhiking through the desolate tundra to track it down.

    If you’ve ever seen a Russian dashcam video on YouTube, you’d know that I really should’ve just caught a plane. I was involved in three fatal car accidents, several brutal street fights, and developed a serious addiction to vodka and counterfeit Adidas tracksuits. If I’d been on the road any longer I would’ve started yearning for the downfall of western civilisation.

    Sadly, by the time I arrived in Nadym, Yevgeny had fallen afoul of the local mafia. Considering his divisive opinions regarding roadside attractions, it came as no surprise. Fortunately, I was able to stay with his grieving widow, so Yevgeny’s public beheading didn’t get in the way of seeing the Big Mammoth.

    From Tusk Till Dawn

    I visited on a balmy summer afternoon, as the temperature threatened to climb out of the negatives. The flat, lifeless terrain, punctuated only by the odd car wreck or abandoned shanty, made it easy to find what I was looking for. The massive mastodon lives a few kilometres out of Nadym, where a group of her ancestors were discovered a few decades ago.

    I never completed my paleontology degree, so I don’t know for sure what killed these graceful beasts, but my guess would be the boredom of living in Nadym. They certainly got the raw end of the stick compared to the mighty milodón!

    Tears of joy froze upon my cheeks as I finally approached my holy grail. Along with her baby, the hirsute hottie is the size of a real mammoth. If you think that disqualifies them from being regarded as Big Things, I know some Russian skinheads who want to have a word with you.

    Of particular note is the mummy mammoth’s titanic tusks – she would’ve needed a really big toothbrush! More than 100 political prisoners died during the monument’s construction, so it’s nice to know their deaths weren’t in vain.

    Despite their detailed craftmanship and enviable size, the mammoths can’t really be considered roadside attractions. The nearest town is 10 hours’ drive away so there’s little passing traffic, and any car that slows down risks being burnt out by a gang of troubled youths.

    You can’t pull the wool over my eyes! Actually, you can…

    During my visit I encountered a young boy named Yevgeny Kafelnikov (again, not the tennis player) who offered to photograph me with the mammoths. I thought it was a kind-hearted exhibition of man’s kindness to man, until I realised it had all been a ruse so that his chums could steal my iPod. Oh well, boys, hope you like Shania Twain.

    After a glorious afternoon with the mammoths, I filled my backpack with cheap vodka and set off on my months-long trek back to Moscow. I would’ve stayed longer, but Nadym made the possibility of freezing to death or getting bopped over the head with an iron bar seem like pretty appealing options.

    As I crossed the River Nadym, its oily surface shimmering like a dying rainbow, I wondered whether it was all worth it. The confronting journey gave me time to reflect on the fact that I’m much like the mammoth. A graceful relic of a bygone era, loved and feared in equal measure.

    A few weeks after I left, local children discovered my friend Yevgeny’s remains out near the mammoths. I think he would have liked that.

  • The Big Doc Martens, Newcastle, NSW

    The Big Doc Martens, Newcastle, New South Wales

    The Big Doc Martens make for a socking sight in the middle of Newcastle, and I certainly wouldn’t like to bump into the miscreant large enough to wear them! Their punk rock swagger and detailed feet-ures are more than enough to earn my heel of approval.

    These hedonistic headkickers live outside the Famous Rock Shop, which is overflowing with leather jackets and vinyl records from bands with scary names like Cannibal Corpse and Savage Garden. If you’re after the latest Belinda Carlisle cassette, however, I’ll save you a trip. They don’t have it.

    The Big Docs are a faithful recreation of the popular romper stompers, down to their laces and stitching. It’s possible to step inside, but punks aren’t known for their lofty hygiene standards, so Gordon entered sole-o. He can now add the Big Fungal Infection to his list of experiences.

    Body modifications are also available, and it was all I could do to stop Gordon from getting his nipple pierced. However, there was no getting between him and aPrince Albert. He’ll regret that when he gets older – trust me.

    If you’re crazy for clogs, The Big Ugg Boots aren’t far away in Thornton. Keep driving and you’ll find The Big Roller Skate and The Big Shoe. They’re all toe-tally awesome!

    Gordon and I were so taken by the Big Doc Martens that we briefly considered forming a white nationalist skinhead gang and going on a violent rampage through the streets of Newcastle. But it seemed like a lot of effort and neither of us wanted to cut our hair, so we went out for banana daiquiris instead.

    Oh, and whilst you might think they’re twins, these boots are actually step-brothers. Anyway, I got a real kick out of meeting them!

  • The Mini Harbour Bridge, Warwick Farm

    The Mini Harbour Bridge, Warwick Farm, New South Wales

    I know what you’re thinking. “Bigs, you’ve lost your mind! The Mini Harbour Bridge can’t possibly be a Big Thing because it’s substantially smaller than the object it’s modelled after. Look, it’s even there in the name. Mini. Mini! Next you’ll be inducting Cockington Green!”

    Your concern is appreciated, but the only thing I’ve lost is 5kg due to a controversial new exercise regime, and I look fantastic. Thanks for noticing. But I’ll stand proudly beside the Mini Harbour Bridge until the day I die.

    The Warwick Farm Wonder’s classification is a constant cause of conjecture within the tight-knit Big Thing community. I’ve ended many lifelong friendships and served some lengthy stretches in prison due to my, at times, quite aggressive defence of this Little Big Coathanger.

    And now, as the government-appointed Custodian of the Bigs, I’m making it official. Mini Harbour Bridge – Big Thing. Take that, Tucker Wankmann!

    The Biggest Little Bridge in the World

    The Mini Harbour Bridge is an astonishing 60 metres wide, making it one of the largest roadside attractions in the southern hemisphere. Built in 1988 to celebrate Australia’s bicentenary, the undersized overpass was plonked in front of a car dealership to coincide with the release of some snazzy new Ford Falcon wagons.

    Funnily enough, what began as a publicity stunt has long outlasted Ford Australia, who shut down in 2016. I know that because I looked it up on Wikipedia, not because I’m some hyper-masculine car buff or anything.

    The Mini Harbour Bridge has become one of the most beloved tourist attractions in the country, with only Ayer’s Rock and the Big Potato welcoming more visitors. It provides a little bit of glamour to the residents of Fairfield, Smithfield and Wetherill Park who can’t afford the train fare to see the real thing.

    As an added bonus, the Bridge Climb over this version takes a lot less time. And anyone who doesn’t find the view out over the Princes Highway beautiful is a troll, as far as I’m concerned. Hopefully a scaled-down troll, to go with the scaled-down Bridge – ha!

    Wheels and Deals!

    Swagger beneath the monument to find the sprawling Peter Warren Automotive, where the prices are as small as the Bridge is big. So enamoured was I by the Bridge that I allowed myself to be talked into buying a shiny new Ram Warlock with extended warranty and something to do with the engine or the batteries or something like that.

    I got a great deal, but unfortunately I’ve never learnt to drive, so I dumped it in the nearby Hungry Jack’s car park and caught the train home. I left the keys in the ignition, so I guess you can have it next time you go to see the Mini Harbour Bridge.

    Now, where’s the scaled-down version of the Sydney Opera House?

  • Moby Big, Nelson Bay, NSW

    Moby Big, Nelson Bay, New South Wales

    Call me Bigs Bardot. Some weeks ago – never mind how long precisely – having little or no money in my Dolce & Gabbana clutch purse, and nothing particular to interest me on Netflix during those dark days between the final episode of Squid Game and the premiere of Tiger King 2, I thought I would ride my super-cute carnation pink Vespa about a little and see some oversized roadside attractions.

    It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation, but mainly it’s just totally fun to hang out with giant bugs and huge bits of fruit and stuff like that.

    There are certain queer times and occasions in this strange mixed affair through the Land of the Bigs when a man takes this whole universe for a vast practical joke. And so it felt when, as I sauntered along the waterfront in Nelson Bay, I happened upon a tiny alien silhouetted against the endless ocean.

    He did not feel the wind, or smell the salt air. He only stood, staring at the horizon, with the marks of some inner crucifixion and woe deep in his face. He was also wearing the most adorable knitted cardigan!

    Anyway, long story short, Captain Gordon had spent most of his life searching for a great white whale. It consumed him, and he couldn’t eat or sleep until he found this massive mammal. The little alien seemed to be able to drink, though, because he was slurring his words and alternating between throwing punches and trying to kiss me.

    “Gordon,” I told him, clutching his furry hand. “Your life’s journey has come to an end, because the Shoal Bay Whale is just up the road. We can even get some jalapeño poppers on the way.”

    “Bigs,” he spouted, “The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run.”

    “So that’s a no to the jalapeño poppers, then?”

    The early bird gets the sperm whale

    It’s not easy doubling a boozed-up Melmacian on a Vespa, especially when everything was ‘Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush’ this and ‘Talk not to me of blasphemy, man; I’d strike the sun if it insulted me’ that. We were going to see a massive marine creature, so I didn’t get the porpoise of his ramblings.

    Fortunately, after passing The Big Red Bug and Bakker’s Big Peach, we soon arrived at the Whale. I was immediately smitten by his roguish good looks and cheeky smile. He’s built onto a trailer, meaning this oversized fish can splash around wherever he wants to.

    It was all a bit much for Gordon, though. The Nelson Bay Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some furry little aliens feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. Or something like that.

    Gordon piled upon the whale’s white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole alien species; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart’s shell upon it. It was a clear breach of the ‘Do Not Climb’ sign.

    “To the last I grapple with thee,” Gordon whaled. “From hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee.” The poor little fella had obviously had too much excitement for one day, so I popped him on the Vespa and, thankfully, he fell asleep on the way home.

    The next morning Gordon had forgotten all about his desperate search for the white whale and had decided his newest lifelong obsession was to see the Big Apple Pie. Yes, it’s quite a story, and I only am escaped alone to tell thee about the extraordinary Moby Big.

  • Durga Maa Statue, Mauritius

    The World's Biggest Statue of Durga Maa, Mauritius

    Oh, you want more-itius Big Things from around the world? Here’s a really stat-huge one hidden within the gorgeous Black River Gorges National Park, on the island paradise of Mauritius!

    The world’s biggest statue of Hindu goddess Durga took six years to complete and lives above the pristine Grand Bassin crater-lake. As the official Big Thing consultant to the Mauritian Government, I oversaw the closing stages of construction in 2017. As you can see, Durga’s beauty radiated through all those metal poles. Thankfully, there’s nothing scaffolding her back now!

    The 33-metre icon was unveiled later that year to much fanfare. Thousands of Hindus and Hin-don’ts joined together for a multi-day celebration of this a-Maa-zing sculpture. Some were there for religious reasons, but I assume most were Big Thing fanatics there for a Ghandi. Sorry, I mean a gander!

    Weighing in at a svelte 400 tonnes, Durga Maa is accompanied by a handsome lion to symbolise her courage. Mangal Mahadev, a similarly-sized statue of Shiva, is Bigging it up just a short stroll away. There are also a number of other enormous effigies of gods lurking around the park.

    These Hindu figures are in the middle of nowhere, so you might want to hire a rental karma for the trip. And don’t worry, whilst Durga is obviously armed, she’s not dangerous!

    Hindu yourself a favour and visit Durga Maa!

  • O Grande Pino de Boliche, Curitibanos

    O Grande Pino De Boliche, Curitibanos, Santa Catarina, Brasil

    He gets knocked down, but he gets up again
    You’re never gonna keep him down!

    The Brasileiros are gutter-ly in love with Big Things, and this striking stud was right up my alley. In fact, I was totally bowled over by this perky pinhead!

    The four-metre-tall Tenpin lives outside the delightful Boliche Beer House in Curitibanos, Santa Catarina, where cerveja and sensational service flow freely. To a stirring soundtrack of funk carioca favourites, I enjoyed two games of bowling for a very reasonable price, and found the pão de queijo to be absolutely scrumptious. Yes, I was cheesed by the food!

    Curitibanos is a sleepy regional city that’s never going to rival Rio de Janeiro as a tourist destination, but is worth visiting to experience everyday life in southern Brasil. But who am I kidding, the highlight for me was meeting this bright white delight!

    It was a frame I couldn’t spend more time with this in-ten-se individual and I was bowling my eyes out when I had to leave. Honestly, though, I’ll spare you the details ???

    Alright, alright, I promise I won’t make any more lane jokes, so it’s time for me to split!

  • The Big Koalas, Salt Ash, NSW

    The Big Koalas, Salt Ash, New South Wales

    Koalas aren’t endangered in scenic Port Stephens, with a pair of massive marsupials lazing about beside the main road into town. The Big Koalas fiercely guard the entrance to Oakvale Wildlife Park, where visitors kan kuddle a kangaroo or kiss an ekidna.

    All those animals are regular-sized, though, so who cares.

    Known as Blinky and Bill, these silver studs are around 150 centimetres tall. Not massive by Big Thing standards, of course – not even as large as Doonside’s version – but pretty big all the same. You certainly wouldn’t want a burly gang of koalas this size turning up at your front door to steal your eucalyptus leaves.

    Both are e-koaly beautiful and easy to spot, living abreast a set of billboards. These signs are quickly becoming more famous than that one over in Hollywood, earning Salt Ash the nickname of koaLa-La Land.

    There are plenty of celebrities around, with the Big Red Bug, Big Peach and the Shoal Bay Whale all living in the area. All deserve a star on the Big Thing Walk of Fame.

    Sadly, one of these Big Koalas suffers from chlamydia. Try to guess which one!

  • The Big Apple, Darkes Forest, NSW

    The Big Apple, Darkes Forest, New South Wales

    He’s supple, shiny and perfectly proportioned – but enough about the inimitable Bigs Bardot! We’re here to talk about the scrumptious Big Apple of Darkes Forest.

    Whilst he’s not the biggest of the many apples south of Sydney – that honour goes to the Tallong Apple – this red delicious is a real man of the people. He’s super close to the ground and perfectly positioned for a hug and a kiss. I can tell you from experience that he’s open to both.

    As crimson as the flame trees that decorate the Illawarra, the Big Apple is truly the maça of his domain. He’s a great representative of the nearby Glenbernie Orchard

    Owned by the good folks at Darkes Cider, the apple lurks wistfully in the car park in front of their cellar door. Say hello before popping in to try their wide range of handcrafted alcoholic beverages. The good news is, you might be seeing two Big Apples as you stumble back out.

    Unfortunately my little alien friend Gordon overindulged on the honey mead, and I was forced to escort him from the premises before a burly biker could deliver a swift beating. He spent a teary moment with the apple where he expressed his undying affection for the fruit, before taking a swing at me and passing out.

    Needless to say, it’s sparkling apple juice for Gordon from now on.

  • Discobolus, Sydney Olympic Park, NSW

    Discobolus, Sydney Olympic Park, New South Wales

    We need to discuss the true star of the 2000 Sydney Olympics… or should that be discus? The stunning, circular Discobolus lies within the shadows of the Olym-big stadium, and serves to link the Aussie sporting extravaganza with the ancient Greek games.

    Well, it’s certainly a more family-friendly option than a bunch of naked gentlemen wrestling each other.

    Crafted by Australian artist Robert Owen, Discobolus represents an ancient Greek discus that’s been tossed into the outback, before transitioning into a CD-ROM. Back when Discobolus was unveiled, that was the ultimate symbol of modern life. These days he’d probably be shaped like a set of AirPods.

    This is a seriously impressive work of art, with details that can only be appreciated when the light hits the disc at just the right angle. The names of dozens of people who helped make Discobolus a reality – including yours truly – adorn his adorable abdomen.

    Here’s to those who believed building a statue of a giant circle was more than just a pi in the sky idea!

    Welcome to Discworld

    My first encounter with this not-so-compact disc came when I was little more than an infant, ‘neath a blood-red sky just moments before the Opening Ceremony of the Sydney Games. As Nikki Webster’s understudy, I had just received the devastating news that she hadn’t been struck down by food poisoning, and my dreams of taking her place as the young Kylie Minogue had been dashed.

    I was crushed, but through the tears I spotted what appeared to be a silver spaceship. He certainly was out of this world and, in my darkest moment, it was the dashing disc that guided me through the minefield of my prepubescent emotions. Standing beneath him 21 years later, the bond we forged was stronger than ever.

    Whilst reflecting upon that turbulent period, I noticed a waifish lass also admiring Discobolus. With blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, the girl was beautiful yet consumed by regret. I recognised her immediately. My eyes met Nikki Webster’s, and we drew together beneath the monstrous discus.

    “You know what, Bigs?” Nikki Webster whispered. “Neither of us should have played the part of Young Kylie Minogue. It should’ve been Discobolus.”

    I nodded knowingly, ending our decades-long rivalry. The moment was bittersweet. A few minutes of shy awkwardness followed, before Nikki Webster cut through the silence.

    “You want to sing Strawberry Kisses with me, right?”

    “Nikki Webster,” I blubbered, taking her dainty hand in mine, “I thought you’d never ask!”

  • Queany the Platypus, Queanbeyan, NSW

    Queany the Platypus, Queanbeyan, New South Wales

    Please rise for Her Royal Wetness, Queany the Platypus! The 500kg mammalian monarch rests regally by the Queanbeyan River, ruling the hearts of locals with a strong yet webbed fist.

    Queany is the crowning achievement of Neil Dickinson and ascended to the throne in 2016. She was designed to put Queanbeyan – which has long stood in Canberra’s shadow – on the map. She’s certainly made that platypossible!

    “We were originally going to do something quite modest and it just developed,” Dicko told a fascinated reporter from the ABC. “Platypus are in the river here, so it was quite exciting.”

    I don’t know the bill for Queany’s construction, but I’m sure it was mono-ex-tremely reasonable. Hopefully Dicko gets royalties from her success.

    Queany has a massive personality that belies her compact proportions. Whilst much bigger than a real-life platypus, she’s only the size of a large dog and would struggle to climb upon the nearby Giant Chair. Ah, now her Napoleon complex makes sense!

    Despite presenting herself as a strong, independent woman, this ravishing royal seems to be forever looking for her King. She enjoyed a whirlwind romance with Morty the Snail, sending the notoriously rabid Queanbeyan paparazzi into a spin, but the two decided they were better off as friends.

    It’s probably for the best. We all saw what happened when Prince Harry shacked up with a commoner, and they’re the same species.

    I could gush over Queany forever, but I’d be splashing into platytudes!

  • The Googong Giant Chair, Googong, NSW

    The Giant Chair, Googong, New South Wales

    Hey gang, I have some bad news. I’ve been shrunk down to a fraction of my normal height! Just look at me sitting here on a normal, regular-sized chair.

    Tee-hee, only kidding! I’m still as Big as I always was, it’s just that I’m perched upon the immense Googong Giant Chair. Although I must say that being smaller would have its perks, such as Big Things seeming even huger than they already are!

    This stupendous structure is more than three metres tall, and carved from particularly sturdy wood. There’s enough room for an entire family to snuggle in for a happy snap. I’m estranged from the other members of the Bardot clan, so brought my best friend Gordon Shumway along instead. He thought it was one of mankind’s greatest seats of civil engineering!

    Chairing is caring

    The Chair is the beating heart of the modern planned city of Googong, with the locals lined up around the block to feel its warm embrace. But it wasn’t always this way, as I discovered several years ago whilst enjoying a light brunch with Googong mayor Derryn Wong.

    “Bigs,” Derryn sighed, as he he listlessly stirred his lemon sorbet. “I have built such a wonderful town, in such an incredible part of the country, but nobody wants to move here. The houses are empty, the streets are windswept. Bigs, I could lose everything.”

    “Derryn,” I replied, before pausing for dramatic effect, “you know there’s only one thing that can transform Googong into the world-class city we both know it should be.”

    Derryn thought for a moment, peering out towards the hazy hills. The lemon sorbet was stirred once again, before the mayor leapt to his feet.

    “I should build a Big!” he exclaimed.

    “Yes Derryn, what a wonderful idea,” I replied, allowing him to have his moment in the spotlight. Then, just as fast as he had risen, Derryn slumped back into his seat. The poor old lemon sorbet was stirred once more.

    “But what should I build? I have so many ideas when it comes to cost-efficient housing, but you’re the expert on Big Things. Bigs, oh Bigs, what should I build for my fellow Googongians?”

    “Only you can decide that,” I whispered, clutching Derryn’s hand to both reassure him and to prevent him from harassing the lemon sorbet any longer. “Just make sure it’s something that supports this vibrant, growing community. Something they’ll be comfortable with. A feature that will, in time, just feel like part of the furniture.”

    “I get what you’re saying,” chirped Derryn, before winking at me and racing out of the cafe with his chair held aloft. Fortunately I paid for both the chair and the sorbet, so the cafe owners weren’t left short.

    And that, my friends, is the story of how Googong mayor Derryn Wong – a man with all the subtlety of of a sledgehammer – built the Giant Chair.

  • Morty the Snail, Queanbeyan, NSW

    Morty the Snail, Queanbeyan, New South Wales

    Don’t be sluggish if you want to see the world’s largest snail, just escar-go to beautiful Queanbeyan. There you’ll find shy, reclusive Morty hiding in the town’s sensory garden. And despite his relaxed demeanour, he’s fast becoming a local legend!

    Artist Neil Dickinson has worked wonders on this sheepish slowpoke. Morty’s handsome head is quirky and exotic, yet cheerful and comforting. He is at once so shocking enough to stop passersby in their tracks, and completely at one with the lovingly-maintained gardens. He’s even snailor-made for sitting on, so giddy-up for a fun photo!

    Morty – named after his home at Ray Morton Park – cost just $10,000 to bring into this world. That leaves me to moll-ask myself why there aren’t more supersized snails around.

    Queanbeyan Council must agree with me, because Queany the Platypus lives right around the corner from Morty. The Googong Giant Chair isn’t far away, either, and I recommend you go and seat it!

    Spend enough slime with Morty and he really comes out of his shell, proving to be a charming and – at times – roguish gent. And, like all of us, this bashful Big is eternally chasing true love… just at a more sedate pace than some!

    “Morty is a modest chap, he just needs to be loved,” Neil told a pencil-pusher from the Queanbeyan Age. “He’s a nice fellow, quite lovely and I hope everyone embraces him and he becomes part of the landscape.

    “We were looking to create something that was connected to the sensory garden. We started off with an organic, abstract, shell-like form and it just evolved from there. “The response has been overwhelming. It’s good, very positive.”

    I reckon you snailed it, mate!

  • The Big Powerful Owl, Belconnen, ACT

    The Big Powerful Owl, Belconnen, Australian Capital Territory

    Alright, stop your hooting! Let’s get the obvious out of the way – the Big Powerful Owl looks more like the Big Powerful Male Appendage. But don’t let that scare you away from this eight-metre avian, who was erected in 2011.

    The Owl was pumped out by Bruce Armstrong and cast from steel, hard wood and lots of nuts, based on a design doodled on a napkin. There was a bit of a balls-up during construction and the cost expanded to $400,000. I certainly hope Bruce didn’t get stiffed on his share.

    Oi, I’ve already told you to stop laughing. Seriously, grow up!

    The powerful owl is the largest species in Australia, so Bruce depicted it as a scrotum… sorry, I mean a totem, watching over the land. Maybe he’s the dong lost cousin of Darwin’s Chinute Chinute. The Owl, that is, not Bruce.

    Tragically, local wang members have been known to deface this regal creature, causing thousands of dollars worth of damage. He was even pulled off pubic display for a while. A security camera has been installed nearby, and hopefully these miscreants will soon be given the shaft.

    Right, that’s your last warning. Any more giggling and I’m going to fly the coop.

    I was wet with excitement when I met the Owl, and it wasn’t just from the rain. His length, girth and rigidity were almost more than I could handle. In fact, he’s nearly as much fun to play with as Alan Davidson’s Balls.

    The equally member-able Big Mushroom is just metres away, and the Big Horny… I mean THORNY Devil isn’t far away, either.

    And in case you’re wondering whether ACT Tourism paid me for this story, the answer is no. I did it pro-boner, thanks foreskin… I mean for asking!

    OK, that’s it. You’re being absolutely ridickulous. Anyone would think you’d never seen a gigantic Penis Owl before.

  • The Big Cauliflower, Waterloo, NSW

    The Big Cauliflower, Waterloo, New South Wales

    Cauliflowers are the sexiest and most sophisticated of vegetables, so of course there’s a massive one living in the trendy inner-city suburb of Waterloo. The Big Cauliflower lurks above the historic Cauliflower Hotel, where it’s happy flower all the time!

    The Hotel dates back to 1862, but the vast veggie isn’t that old. In fact, he looks quite fresh! The original publican, a Mr George Rolfe, built his pub with money he made from selling cauliflowers. He painted one on the side of the building, and the name stuck.

    These days the pub is a hip and happenin’ place with an extensive wine selection and mouthwatering modern American food. It’s the sort of place salad-vertising executives love. Nothing, however, overshadows the real star attraction – the Big Cauliflower. He has a good head on him and looks very much like the real deal.

    The Big Cauliflower isn’t much of an attention-seeker, and is content to sit up there on the roof, people-watching. It makes it difficult to take a photo with him, but after dodging traffic I was veget-able to grab one! I’ll hang it on my kitchen wall, next to my snaps with the Big Potato and the Big Pumpkin.

    Cauliflower Power!

    At the conclusion of the photo shoot I swaggered into the pub was and gleefully ordered a cup of their famous cauliflower beer. The barman looked at me as if I’d beamed down from space and told me they didn’t have anything of the sort, and never had.

    A couple of tough-looking tradies with cauliflower ears even suggested that my kind weren’t welcome there. Discrimination against those with a penchant for oversized produce is alive and well in Sydney, unfortunately.

    Not to be intimidated, I ordered a cup of Resch’s and dunked a generously-proportioned cauliflower in it. The concoction was lumpy, chunky, and smelled like a homeless man’s underwear, but I forced it down. The tradies soon revised their opinion of me, cheering me on as I downed cup after cup of lukewarm cauliflower beer.

    I ended up becoming physically ill and was forcefully ejected by a burly security guard, but it was worth it because I wasn’t going to let them think they’d won.

  • The Hardware Man, Unanderra, NSW

    The Hardware Man, Unanderra, New South Wales

    Set your heart to ‘swoon’ and say hello to a big, burly bloke who’s good with his hands and could build a rat trap out of some paper clips and a broken zip-tie.

    Oh no, not me! I call Hire-a-Hubby to change my toilet paper. I’m talking about the hunky Hardware Man, who I was lucky enough to have a drilling encounter with during a trip to Wollongong.

    Despite boasting a chiseled physique, the Hardware Man’s proportions are endearingly odd. His bits and bobs get larger as you head south, meaning he has a rugged pinhead and massive boots. But you know what they say about a man with big shoes – he must have big feet, tee-hee!

    This bearded beauty stands proudly by the busy Princes Highway, saw it’s quite a feat to get a snap with him. To achieve a decent angle grinder, I had to set my camera up on one side of the road and then dodge traffic to get near the hulking hunk. It’s easy to screw up a photo op like this, but I think I nailed it. As you can imagine, I was in quite high spirit levels when it worked out!

    Just quietly, I think he’d be a good match for Wo-Man, because they both like showing off their tools – and I’m not talking about the Big Axe!

    Big Man, Bigger Savings!

    The Hardware Man is the mascot for the legendary shop of the same name, which has been supplying the South Coast with hammers and nails for over 50 years. And yes, they do free pool water testing in-store!

    Feeling it would be rude not to pop in to say hello, I sequestered away into the voluminous yellow building. Four hours later I emerged with a wheelbarrow overflowing with safety goggles, a circular saw, needle-nosed pliers, industrial-strength paint stripper, some sort of chainsaw thing and 15 litres of weedkiller. What can I say; my penchant for impulse purchases is matched only by the Hardware Man’s extensive range and competitive prices.

    I hate to hammer the point, but Hardware Man is incredible! Oh, and if anyone needs a whole bunch of quality DIY equipment that I’ll never use, drop me a line.

  • The Big Teapot, Leura, NSW

    The Big Teapot, Leura, New South Wales

    I’m a handsome teapot
    There’s no doubt
    Here is my handle, here is my spout
    When I find a Big Thing
    Then I shout
    Stop the car and let me out!

    Although I’m not one to spill the tea, I must say that this ‘pot is really brew-tiful! You can find her in front of Bygone Beautys, which houses the world’s largest private teapot collection.

    There are more than 5,500 regular-sized jugs inside, from around the world and across the centuries. None, however, are as breathtaking as the tea-lightful Big Thing outside.

    Just look at that bunny perched on top of the ‘pot! The whimsical wabbit is straight out of Alice in Wonderland, and recalls the innocence and curiosity of youth. And don’t worry, he won’t be late for a very important date with your heart!

    The whole complex is straight out of a fairy tale. Resting peacefully in a tree-lined street in the majestic mountain village of Leura, Bygone Beautys is only minutes from magnificent lookouts. There’s nowhere more inviting on a frosty winter’s afternoon.

    The museum serves a scrumptious range of teas, sandwiches and deserts to please all palates. I allowed myself a moment of decadence by wallowing in the rich tapestry of a cup of Turkish Apple Infusion tea and a generous serving of bread and butter pudding with whipped cream.

    It probably went straight to my hips but, then again, you only live once.

    The theatrical service so enthralled me that I managed to stop peeking out the window at the Big Teapot every five minutes. I even considered treating myself to the famous apple pie, but then realised such an action would likely upset a nearby Big Thing.

    Even though the skies were a little Earl Grey when I visited, I couldn’t miss the opportuni-tea to see this prodigious ‘pot. Don’t kettle for second best!

  • The Big Acorns, Molonglo Valley, ACT

    The Big Acorns, Molonglo Valley, Australian Capital Territory

    You’ll go nuts for these king-sized kernels, which loom large over the National Arboretum Canberra and double as a playground. Just make sure to behave yourself, or you’ll end up in the naughty acorner!

    The Pod Playground burst open on June 22, 2013, and I’m not oaking when I say it’s nutting short of incredible. Not only are there all sorts of slippery dips and swings to explore, but there’s also a collection of burly banksia pods in which to hide from the cold, dark world and the ravages of time.

    Seedless to say, the Big Acorns offer a nice, peaceful spot foresting up after hunting Big Things all day. The Mushroom, Coins, Moths and Thorny Devil are all ex-tree-meley close.

    For another attraction that’ll ex-seed your expectations, try the Big Pine Cones.

    Unfortunately the weather was rather inclement when I visited, and I braved a violent electrical storm to bring you these photos. You may call me a hero, but I can honestly think of no better way to leave this world than having my head explode from the power of 10 million vaults whilst sheltered within the bowels of a Big. Ah, a boy can dream!

    You probably expect me to wrap this up with acorny joke, but that’s not my style!

  • The Giant Mushroom, Belconnen, ACT

    The Giant Mushroom, Belconnen, ACT

    For a ’room with a view, you can’t beat this monstrous mushie! She sprouted up beside the Belconnen Fresh Food Market in 1998, with a well-appointed playground beneath her colossal cap. Just be warned that, with so many slippery dips and see-saws, there’s not mushroom inside for adults.

    With a diameter of almost 16 metres, the Giant Mushroom is the grandest Big Thing in the ACT. She could do with a new coat of paint, however, and it can be difficult to grab a photo with her because she’s tucked away amongst the markets.

    A downpour added to my difficulty, but it was a fun adventure to dodge the cyclone to snap a photo! And maybe all that rain will see her grow even larger!

    It wasn’t all swings and roundabouts when I visited, however, because the playground was sadly closed for undisclosed reasons. Otherwise I would’ve been able to scurry up her stalk, peek through her windows, and have all sorts of fun-gus.

    Oh well, I found a nice toadstool to hunker down on as I admired this Big. A few curious shoppers asked me what I was doing, and I assured them I wasn’t stalking the Mushroom. To a person they agreed this is a mush-see tourist attraction!

    The Giant Mushroom was the star attraction Belco until 2011, when the Big Powerful Owl was installed just a few hundred metres away. The Big Acorns and Big Thorny Devil are also nearby. Oh, and it’s also a great place to meat for vegetarians (which is a joke that absolutely nobody who reads this will get).

    I could spend all day saying how much I love this ‘shroom, but don’t want to get mushy!

  • The Big Kissing Galahs, Watson, ACT

    The Big Kissing Galahs, Watson, Australian Capital Territory

    Love is in the air, everywhere in Canberra town
    Love is in the air, no native bird has a frown
    And I don’t know feather I’m being foolish
    Don’t know feather I’m being wise
    But Big Galah love’s something I believe in
    Beak-ause they’re making out in front of my eyes

    As a hopeless romantic who aches to discover love, the allure of Australia’s most passionate Big Things proved irresistible. The Big Kissing Galahs, on the northern outskirts of Canberra, are forever perched on the precipice of a tender pashing sesh. Will they, won’t they? With my heart racing and palms sweating, I had to find out!

    Unveiled at a galah event in 2013, the lascivious lovers were the passion project of artists Bev Hogg and Elizabeth Patterson. The Galahs mark the entrance to a modern planned community, and supposedly represent the concept of new families nesting in the area. Well, that’s better than the concept of new families pooing all over cars. Eight years on, their lust burns brighter than ever.

    Wearing a freshly-pressed tunic and festive hat, I approached the bawdy birds to see if there was room for me, cocka-too. I leant in to join the smooching session, as every bird in every tree in the world sung a symphony for this moment. Alas, as has happened so many times in my life, I was shunned by those I loved the most, and the shattered shards of my heart were scattered on the spring breeze.

    Coming up: More galah-rious jokes!

    Fortunately my alien chum Gordon Shumway was on hand to pick me up off the ground. Not only did he provide me with the consolation prize of a few quick pecks, but he later took me to Fyshwick so I could pick out some sparklers. Sure, they weren’t the fireworks I’d hoped to see, but it was a nice gesture.

    Oh well, maybe I’ll have better luck with the Big Kookaburra. Or Pete the Pelican. Or the Big Penguin. Or Stanley. Or the Big Parrot. Or the Big Chook. Or Chinute Chinute. Or even the Big Powerful Owl, who lives just down the road in Belconnen. There are plenty more birds in the sky!

    I visited the Galahs briefly on my way out of Canberra, and became ensconced in the sweet melancholy of what they have, and what I fear I shall never find. However, even though they crushed my soul, I’m happy for their happiness. If things go the way I think they will, expect some little Big Galahs in about nine months time!

    Please note: The incubation period for galahs is approximately 25 days, however I changed this to nine months for humorous effect. Also, it’s unlikely the Big Kissing Galahs will breed as a little birdie told me they’re both male… although he may have been a lyrebird.

  • The Big Pears, Parkes, ACT

    The Big Pears, Parkes, Australian Capital Territory

    Everything’s going pear-shaped in the nation’s capital, and that’s just how they like it! Please welcome this incom-pear-able bunch. Officially known as Pear (version No.2) despite there being seven of the fruity fellows, they were created by George Baldessin in 1973.

    The Pears rest enticingly at the entrance to the National Gallery of Australia, and appear to be scattered around as if as if displayed in a fruit bowl. Unsurprisingly famished art-lovers often attempt to eat them. Jokingly, I hope, because they’re made from steel that’s designed to rust into the brown colour of an Aussie pear.

    Each swollen sweetheart was first molded from polystyrene, before being cast in two halves, sliced horizontally. Once completed, they were skewered onto individual pipes that had been plunged into the cold Canberran dirt. It’s for the best, because there’s a 110 pear-cent chance someone would fruit-nap them otherwise.

    Whilst they were originally designed with leaves, these were never attached and currently reside within the gallery. I guess the artiste decided to they needed nothing but the pear necessities.

    Curiously, Baldessin was part of an art movement designed to resist the Americanisation of Aussie art. Our Big Things, as much as we hate to admit it, are directly influenced by similar structures in the US, so poor ol’ Georgie boy was in fact contributing to the one thing he hated more than anything else.

    The realisation must’ve been un-pear-able for him!

    As for the names of the individual bulging beauties? I asked several employees of the gallery, but was unable to establish the facts. Fortunately, an impish tough guy who was hanging out in the park informed me they’re named Pears Akerman, Pear Danes, Selma Pear, Peary Bickmore, Ric Pear and two members of pop rock group the Pear Naked Ladies.

    Although maybe he had simply succumbed to pear-pressure and was just after a cheap laugh.

  • The Big Bogong Moths, Acton, ACT

    The Big Bogong Moths, Acton, Australian Capital Territory

    You’ll be drawn to these winged wonders like a moth to a flame! The Big Bogong Moths rest peacefully beside the Australian Institute for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies. Based on a design by indigenous artiste Jim Williams, and crafted by Matthew Harding, they celebrate the history of the local Ngunnawal people.

    No, no, no, the Ngunnawal aren’t some sort of human-moth hybrid tribe, they simply revere bogongs – as we all should.

    There are six monstrous moths, and the concrete cuties cemented their place in the hearts of Canberrans in 2001.

    The Bogongs are best seen from the sky, but with drones banned in the area, I called up my good chum – and self-confessed Big Thing tragic – Scott Morrison, then-Prime Minister of Australia, to see if he could help out.

    “Bigs, the preservation and recording of our wonderful Big Things and roadside attractions is the most important issue facing this country,” Scotty told me in a lengthy and, at times, rambling conversation. “There’s a Black Hawk chopper out the back, do you want that?”
    “Sounds great, Scotty,” I replied. “Just as long as the propellers don’t mess up my hair!”
    “Anything for you, Bigs. Need a tank?”
    “Only if those nutters who claim the Big Banana is the oldest Big Thing keep it up!”

    Oh, how we laughed! Then Scotty and I spent a splendid afternoon visiting the nearby Big Thorny Devil, Big Coins and Big Pears.

    “Shouldn’t you be running the country rather than racing around admiring oversized roadside attractions with me?” I asked Scotty as we crawled through the Big Acorns together.
    “No, shouldn’t you be running the country rather than racing around admiring oversized roadside attractions with me?” Scotty quipped back.

    Oh, how we laughed!

  • The Bilpin Apple Pie, Bilpin, NSW

    Crumb one, crumb all to see a true work of tart – the Bilpin Apple Pie! The sweet treat rests on the back of an old truck, a few kilometres north of the sleepy township of Bilpin. He’s certainly not a short crust, in fact he’s quite tall!

    My encounter with this homemade hottie proved to be a pie-opening experience. The round rascal is certainly odd, and the only Big I know of who drives a vehicle. He’s perfectly placed for a strudel-icious photo – and that’s pudding it mildly.

    Honestly, anyone who says nice pies finish last doesn’t know what they’re on about.

    Bilpin is famous for its apples, cider, and baked goodies, and is a lovely place to visit when the weather’s pie and warm. On the way through, you’ll also drive pastry the iconic Fruit Bowl. There are plenty of trees around, so Bilpin’s certainly not out in the dessert or anything.

    If you prefer the apple without the pie, trot on over to Tallong or Yerrinbool. I’m sure you’ll find them both (red) delicious!

    The Cottage Orchard Cafe is right next to the Pie, and the friendly owners serve a range of sweets and savouries to suit any palate. I like my pies stuffed with meat and swimming in tomato sauce, but decided to turnover a new leaf and test the local produce. My verdict? Un-quiche-lievable!

    The Bilpin Apple Pie is worth baking the trip out to see, but the question remains; where’s the Big Dollop of Ice Cream to go with him?

  • The Big Roller Skate, Emu Plains, NSW

    The Big Roller Skate, Emu Plains, New South Wales

    He is a sk8er boy
    Big like the Potato boy
    He is good enough for me
    He has a pretty lace
    Takes up quite a lot of space
    You need to come down to Penny

    Roll out the red carpet, because I rink this colossal clog is wheely exciting! The lone loafer lives atop the entrance to Penrith Skatel, and is a shoe-in to send you head-over-heels in love!

    Widely regarded as the Pride of Penrith, the Big Roller Skate’s a ray of sunshine amidst a dingy industrial estate. If you’re looking to live out your Xanadu fantasies whilst having a new muffler installed, here’s your chance! The Skatel has heaps of great feet-ures and is tongues of fun.

    The Big Strawberry, Chook and Axe are nearby, if you want a sock-cessful day hunting down Big Things. If you prefer your shoes in pairs, try the Big Ugg Boots. If you prefer pears, try the Bilpin Fruit Bowl.

    The Skatel is economically priced, so even cheapskates can enjoy it. Unfortunately the centre was closed when I visited, however many people were already inline for selfies with the robust Roller.

    I considered sneaker-ing over the fence, but feared being arrested and tossed into sole-itary confinement. I really didn’t heel like going through all of that.

    Get your skates on and lace in to see him today!

  • The Big Flower, Ourimbah, NSW

    The Big Flower, Ourimbah, New South Wales

    If it’s wrong for a 38-year-old man to dress up as a pansy and dance in front of The Big Flower, then I don’t want to be right. What can I say – this daisy is drivin’ me crazy!

    As tall as he is handsome, the Big Flower has a kitschy charm and refreshing innocence that’s granted him cult status on the Central Coast. For decades he’s welcomed visitors to to this subtropical paradise. One glance at that big, happy grin is enough to know that all is well in the world.

    The plucky perennial smiles happily at drivers along the M1 freeway, so you don’t need to be a palm reader to find him. Simp-tree take the Ourimbah exit and there he is – I’m sure you can fig-ure it out!

    After taking some happy snaps, spring into the Big Flower Nursery, which has thousands of flowers set out in neat rose. The staff dafodil-igently water them every day, and it’s quite a cycad-venture to roam through. The prices are quite reasonable, if you’re watching your frangi-pennies.

    If you’re after a light ca-meal-ia, the on-site cafe offers a scrumptious selection of sweets. Apparently the scones are gerani-yum!

    The Big Flower is not aloe-n on the Central Coast. Ploddy, Frilly, Lizzo and Daryl are just a few minutes drive south. Alan Davidson’s Balls are on the short drive into Gosford, where you’ll find the Big Poppies. They all hope to bank-seeya soon. Or should that be bloom?

    I’m not dande-lyin’ when I say I wish the Big Flower was jas-mine!

  • The Big Axe, Box Hill, NSW

    The Big Axe, Box Hill, New South Wales

    Wood you like to visit a towering tomahawk and grab a load of quality kindling at the same time? I’ll go out on a limb and take that as a yes, so hatchet a plan to swing by Big Axe Firewood in beautiful Box Hill!

    The Axe lives beside busy Windsor Road, ready to welcome anyone lumbering along. He’s behind a fence, so I asked the nice lady in the chop if I could take a few happy snaps. She said yes and didn’t even ask me to stump up cash for the honour!

    As you can see, I was dressed pretty sharply for the occasion. Did I cut it as a big, rugged lumberjack in my flannel tunic? Chop chop with your answer, I don’t want to have to axe you again???

    The Axe looks fantastic and is almost as large as his twin up north in Kew. His owners obviously love him, because he’s been freshly painted and the yard he’s in is well maintained. I just hope he doesn’t hook up with the Hardware Man and try to lop down the nearby Big Koala‘s tree!

    For more information on this massive marvel without having to cleave home, log on to the Big Axe’s website. You could even send him a tree-mail. Don’t worry, there are no hackers on there!

    The Big Axe is, quite surprisingly, single. He is, however, hoping to find a girlfriend on the popular dating app Timber.

  • The Big Koala, Doonside, NSW

    The Big Koala, Doonside, New South Wales, Australia

    What’s cute, cuddly, and widely beloved despite being considered daggy by zoomers? These three guys right here! Sardonic alien Gordon Shumway joined me on this visit to Featherdale Wildlife Park, where we met the un-bear-ably handsome Big Koala.

    He’s not the biggest arboreal herbivorous marsupial around – that distinction goes to the Giant Koala in Dadswells Bridge, Victoria. But he’s 1.5 metres tall and made from high-koalaty materials, so I think he koalafies. Honestly, would you like to have a furr-ocious fellow that size slowly following you? Didn’t think so!

    As a tiny zoo swamped by the endless banality of suburbia, Featherdale is a throwback to a more innocent time. The Big Koala fits in well, because he’s simple and homely. I assume he arrived around 1972, when the park opened, making him one of Australia’s oldest Bigs. There have been numerous attempts to turn the park into housing, but the locals fought against its claws-ure.

    The Big Koala’s pouch-standing popularity proved inspirational to many nearby businesses. The Big Chook, Big Axe and Big Roller Skate are all within a short gallop.

    Dozens of world-famous celebs such as Leo DiCaprio, Bobby De Niro, Fatty Vautin, and the irresistible Taylor Lautner have spent time with the Big Koala. I saw the manager taking down Gwen Stefani’s photo to make room for this happy snap of Gordon and I. Unfortunately Ko-Ali G, Leaf Cassidy and pop group U-calyptus 2 haven’t visited yet.

    Featherdale is also home to quokkas, crocs, kangaroos and penguins. It’s possible to take a selfie with them, but why bother when there’s an awesome Big out the front? And sorry, ladies, but the little furry alien was a one-time deal ?

    The three of us had a mar-super-ial time together. We even enjoyed a piña koala or two!

  • The Awesome Big Things of Darwin

    Darwin’s one of the best cities to have a BIG adventure, with all sorts of giant animals to meet! Those willing to brave the heat can find a frightening fish, a charismatic turtle, and one of the biggest dinosaurs to ever roam the Earth. Follow this delightful guide to Australia’s northern capital, and your next holiday to the Territory is sure to be a Dar-winner!

    The Big Frogs

    The Big Frogs, Darwin

    Roll out the red carpet, because we’re in the company of some Hollywood bad boys… Ribbet Redford and Dennis Hopper! The amphibian actors squat out the front of the Ramada Suites, which is just a hop, skip and jump from Darwin’s waterfront. They’re a tad-pole bit rundown, but it would be lilly not to go see them!

    There’s toads more info on the Big Frogs right here!

    Colin the Big Turtle

    Although he may seem shy at first, Colin’s a turtle-y dude once he comes out of his shell. Col’s happy chilling in a quiet corner of the Garamanak Park, which is next to a community centre. He really has tortoise all how to love!

    Colin’s full story is a real flipper!

    The Giant Jellyfish

    Floating menacingly along the waterfront at the entrance to Darwin’s sprawling East Point Reserve, bloodthirsty blubbers are actually very approachable and fun to play around with. The deadly duo form an art installation entitled Intertwined, which was brought to life by local artiste Aly de Groot in 2014. Why not have a picnic with them – don’t forget a bluebottle of wine!

    Don’t feel jelly, read the whole story!

    The Big Barramundi

    Wanguri schoolkids all know the three Rs – reading, ‘riting, and really big fish! They’re fortunate enough to have this behemoth barra swimming around their a-cod-amy, and she’s a valuable member of the educ-ocean-al community!

    Being located within the grounds of Wanguri Primary School means she can only be admired through an imposing fence. But lose that sinking feeling, because she’s fairly close the the barra-cade and assures me she’s happy with her home.

    Find out why the Big Barramundi is too cool for school!

    Chinute Chinute the Big Owl

    You won’t need to stay up late to see this oversized owl and I’m talon you, be prepared to fowl in love! Say hello to Chinute Chinute, who’s so nice they named her twice! She’s 1.8 metres tall, is perched in front of the Northern Territory Supreme Court, and is a real hoot to hang out with!

    Read all about Chinute Chinute!

    Lefty the Big Pink Buffalo

    If alcoholics see pink elephants, then those who prefer the intoxicating allure of Big Things must see pink buffalos! To spend a right good time with Lefty, buffalo your instincts to the delightful Travans Cars & Commercials. There you can have your photo taken with a giant roadside attraction and buy a second-hand Toyota Hilux in the same afternoon.

    Have a ball with Lefty – read the full story!

    George the Crocodile

    Gorgeous George isn’t just one of the newest and cutest Big Things in Darwin, he’s also one of the largest. He measures 10 metres from handsome head to tantalising tail, so he’s the apex predator at the Darwin Botanic Gardens. He’s also lots of fun to ride – surf’s up, dude!

    Read more about George the Big Crocodile!

    Big Kev the Big Dinosaur

    There’s only one place where you can snap up a sensibly-priced socket set, swallow a scrumptious sausage sandwich, and sequester yourself back 65 million years to the age of the sauropods – and that’s Bunnings Palmerston. It’s home to Big Kev the brachiosaurus and trust me, he’s excited!

    Kev’s not extinct, so find out more about him!

  • Chinute Chinute the Big Owl, Darwin, NT

    Without feather ado, I’d like to in-duck-t this oversized owl – and I’m talon you, be prepared to fowl in love! Say hello to Chinute Chinute, who’s so nice they named her twice!

    The 1.8-metre-tall avian landed outside the Northern Territory’s Supreme Court in 2010, and is modelled after a Dreamtime spirit who’s watched over the Top End for thousands of years. Aboriginal elder and artist Koolpinyah Barnes cast the blushing bird from bronze, based on a 45cm statue he cre-hoot-ed several years earlier.

    “Chinute Chinute is a Larrakia spiritual ancestor who exists within the sacred site known as Stokes Hill adjacent to this walkway,” Koolpinyah told fascinated reporters at the time. “This ancestor manifests itself from time to time as the tawny frogmouth and stands as sentinel to the waterfront area.”

    Chinute Chinute is anything but a hid-hen gem, being located a short stroll from the popular Smith Street Mall and the Big Frogs. I suggest spending time with our feathery friend before heading straight to the waterfront for a refreshing dip in the man-made beach, which isn’t just cheep, it’s free!

    Darwinians have been doing owl the right things to attract Big Thing fanatics, with Chinute Chinute joining Colin the Turtle and the Giant Jellyfish as a much-loved member of the communi-tree.

    Aussies have im-peck-able taste when it comes to birdy Bigs, so you should also chick out Pete the Pelican on the Sunshine Coast, the Big Kookaburra in Kurri Kurri, Stanley the Emu outside Lightning Ridge, the Big Chook in Western Sydney, the Big Parrot in Queensland, and the Big Penguin in (where else?) Penguin, Tasmania.

    Oh dear, thinking about all these giant birds is nocturn-all too much for me, I need to go and have a lie down in my nest! Hoot hoot!

  • The Big Poppies, Gosford, NSW

    The Big Poppies, Gosford, New South Wales

    These burgundy bud-dies have been bravely garden the entrance to Gosford for a few years now, and have blossomed into the city’s top tourist destination. The nine nice guys stand by the shore of the gorgeous Brisbane Water, and I’m not pollen your leg when I say it’s a bloomin’ beautiful place to spend an afternoon!

    The Big Poppies were brought to life by local artiste Margrete Erling – who rolled the big cricket and soccer balls into the willing arms of the people of Wyoming – and took around six weeks to complete.

    Created to commemorate the centenary of the Gallipoli campaign during the First World War, the Poppies were unveiled to an adoring public during the 2015 ANZAC Day ceremony. With 40,000 smaller fabric poppies decorating the grounds of Gosford Rotary Park and hundreds of curious townsfolk in attendance, they really rose to the occasion!

    Flower Power

    The Poppies rest in what was once a fountain, on a galvanised steel base. The handsome flowers are made from aluminium tubing and flat sheet metal, and are so cute I used my tulips to kiss them!

    Sadly the Big Poppies aren’t as fresh as they once were, and are badly in need of some tender budding care. Maybe we convince the caretaker of the Big Sunflowers to help them out? They also no longer light up at night – although they will light up your heart.

    I’ve been fortunate enough to visit these towering flowers with my own Poppy, who is a Second World War hero, so they hold special significance to me. These Bigs aren’t just fun, they’re a tribute to the brave men and woman who have fought for our freedom and way of life.

    If the Poppies aren’t large enough for you, firstly, check your privilege. Secondly, there’s an even bigger blossom just down the road.

    Although they’re overshadowed by the world famous Ploddy the Dinosaur, who lives just up the road, the floral to this story is that you need to put the petal to the metal and visit them!

  • The Big Pencil, Newcastle, NSW

    The Big Pencil, Newcastle, New South Wales

    2B or not 2B, that is the question. And the answer, of course, is not 2B, as the perky Pencil is clearly an HB, the most princely on the graphite grading scale.

    Positioned beneath the jaw-droppingly beautiful Nobbys Lighthouse along Newcastle’s eastern beaches, he doubles as a seat from which to enjoy this glorious part of the world. Despite what you may think, the area’s not sketchy at all!

    And don’t worry, this scribbly sensation won’t be going anywhere, because he’s stationary. Now that’s worth writing home about!

    I’ve been lead to believe the Big Headphones and Ossie the Mossie are nearby, but what about a Big Sharpener? I’d hate for this crazy crayon to get blunt!

    Time to pencil in a visit to Newie, Big Thing lovers!

  • George the Big Crocodile, Darwin, NT

    You don’t need to leave the Land of the Bigs to have a memorable encounter in the African wilderness. Just pop over to the Botanic Gardens in sunny Darwin, where a monstrous metallic maneater meanders through the Madagascan-modelled meadows. Mmmmm… marvellous!

    Surrounded by breathtaking baobabs and bubbling brooks, Gorgeous George delights with his size and looks. The 10-metre-long lizard was cast from steel by local legend Techy Masero, the artiste responsible for Colin the Turtle and the Big Barra, under the watchful eye of world-famous wildlife wizard Tommy Nichols. It truly does take a village to raise a colossal crocodilian.

    After five wonderful years of hard work, George was dipped in a vat of zinc (in a scene I can only assume was reminiscent of the ending of Terminator 2: Judgment Day) and hauled off to his forever home in April 2020. I’ll go out on a limb and say nobody leaves the Gardens jabbering on about the heliconias and orchids anymore – although they are delightful.

    Always smile at this crocodile!

    I’ve had encounters with the most beautiful Bigs ever made, but was reduced to a blubbering mess upon meeting George, so beautiful was he. Thousands of hours went into his intricately-detailed features, and it certainly shows. I was particularly impressed by the oversized barramundi he has tucked between his titillating teeth. Fortunately George didn’t snatch the Wanguri or Katherine barras for his lunch!

    As I struggled to catch my breath, a couple of the Gardens’ friendly horticulturists assisted me to a bench beneath a nearby weeping willow, where I was able to regain my composure before resuming my date with George. He lives in a quiet patch of the park, beneath a huge tree, but of course he attracts a lot of attention. Move over George Clooney and Boy George, we have a bigger celebrity here!

    I strongly urge visitors not to climb upon Bigs they don’t have a strong and trusting relationship with – it’s a hate crime as far as I’m concerned – but George made it clear to me that he’s open to being mounted, so I made the most of the opportunity. Despite hardly being a ‘waxhead’, I a surf on George’s handsome head. Hang 10-metre-long crocodile, dudes!

    There’s no doubt about it, George is a real croc star!

  • Wo-Man, Garland Valley, NSW

    Wo-Man, Garland Valley, New South Wales

    As a passionate supporter of the LGBTQI+ community, it’s my pleasure to introduce Australia’s very first transgender Big – the voluptuous Wo-Man! Xe is loud and proud and shimmers like a disco ball, bedazzling all who venture into the backwoods of Wollombi.

    This remote location is a surprising home for such a progressive Big, who’s happy to show off xis ample bosom and metallic member for anyone to see. Xe has legs for days and is the true monarch of the forest, so if you think I sound jealous, I am!

    An abandoned service station, rotting furniture and desolate fields make for a lonely yet unique home for Wo-Man, and there’s even a rusting yacht on site, despite being hours from the coast. It’s like a scene from a bloodthirsty horror movie, with Wo-Man playing the part of the buxom beauty!

    Beauty and the Beast


    There’s trouble in paradise, however, and I must issue a serious warning to those planning to visit Wo-Man, as xis owner is a real oddball and not particularly welcoming of those who stop for a photo. In an unprovoked and hyper-aggressive display of male fragility, I was verbally and emotionally abused by the heavily-bearded tough guy as he grilled some sausages, leaving a group of disgusted customers gaping in disbelief. As the vicious words crashed down upon me, I sensed Wo-Man shuddering.

    I would’ve thought someone who built a four-metre-tall trans friend to keep himself company in remote bushland would be more open-minded. Then again, if I owned a Big Thing – especially one as alluring as Wo-Man – I’d probably be a tad possessive, too!

    My suggestion is to pull up, say a quick hello to Wo-Man as you snap a selfie, then drive off before the hate speech starts flying. Hopefully this gentleman’s sausage sizzling skills are better than his social abilities, because he certainly left a sour taste in my mouth!

    My heart weeps to think of Wo-Man being trapped in such a toxic environment, but it’s not my place to get involved. Not just because xe is big enough to fend for xirself, but because xe simply wouldn’t fit on the back of my scooter. Hopefully one day xe’ll meet someone who treats xem the way xe deserves – maybe the hardworking Big Gold Panner, the brave Big Knight, the bashful Coota Giant, or even Matilda. Until then shine on, you crazy diamond!

  • The Big Strawberry, Koonoomoo, VIC

    The Big Strawberry, Koonoomoo, Victoria

    Let me take you down
    ‘Cause I’m going to Big Strawberry Fields
    The size is real
    And something to be amazed about
    Big Strawberry Fields forever

    Bright red and bursting with life, the Big Strawberry looks delicious enough to gobble up with a dollop of cream. But this blushing beauty is actually an unstoppable tough guy, having defeated a crazed cyclone in 2013.

    The turbulent tempest tore through Koonoomoo with unabashed enthusiasm, destroying four homes and shattering 12 others. A camper van was tossed 40 metres onto its roof, and the village was left looking like a cantankerous toddler’s bedroom. But the brawny Strawberry, long a source of inspiration for the townsfolk, stood tall against the wild winds.

    When survivors emerged, cowering, from the rubble, they saw their beloved Strawberry standing proudly in the gathering sunlight. Everything will be alright, he seemed to say, and the rebuilding process began. Since that day, not a single deranged downpour has dared darken the doorways of Koonoomoo.

    The cardinal cutie is one of the most straw-some Bigs the world has ever known. He’s shiny, delightfully textured, and very accessible. Fans can get up close and personal for a memorable and life-affirming photograph with the striking strawberry, and there’s even a deliciously retro sign with a hole to pop your happy little face through for the perfect holiday snap.

    Something new for Koonamoo

    The juicy giant started life in 2004, when Michael and Lorraine Hayes (along with their son Darren, the current owner) witnessed the popularity of the nearby Big Murray Cod and Big Cherry and decided to get in on the oversized action.

    It was a community effort to raise the six-metre-tall, five-metre-wide icon, with Cobram Plumbing bringing the steel frame and local workers preparing the mesh. The oar-some blokes from Competition Kayaks put up the fiberglass, before Barry Dickson from Barry Dickson Paint and Panel went to town with his brushes.

    Oh, and the scrumptious colour? Monza red, because Darren loves his Ford cars. I guess Fords are red, but I wouldn’t have a clue, I ride a scooter. I’ll paint my Big bright pink if Mum ever overcomes her aversion to having a ten-metre-tall concrete hamster in the front yard.

    The adjacent store boasts Big Strawberry t-shirts, magnets and socks, along with a wide selection of chutneys and relishes. Slather some melon and pineapple marmalade on a chunk of home-baked damper and thank me afterwards.

    Koonoomoo’s Big Strawberry really is one in vermilion. Even the Luddenham version doesn’t come close. I’d love to spend all day writing love ballads about this ruby rascal but honestly, I’m clutching at strawberries here.

  • Daryl Somersby the Croc, Somersby, NSW

    Daryl Somersby the Crocodile, Somersby, New South Wales

    Never smile at Daryl the Crocodile
    No, don’t get friendly with Daryl the Crocodile
    Don’t be taken in by his games and lark
    Or the fact he lives at the Aussie Reptile Park

    Never smile at Daryl the Crocodile
    Never kiss his handsome head and stop to talk awhile
    Never listen to his hopes and dreams
    Of gobbling up six football teams

    You may very well lose your body
    Just up the road from Frilly and Ploddy
    But there’s always a special time and place
    To look at that rugged, whimsical face
    And say, “I don’t care if he eats me, we just have to kiss!”
    Daryl’s one Big that you just can’t miss!

  • The Big Gold Pick and Pan, Grenfell, NSW

    The Big Gold Pick and Pan, Grenfell, New South Wales

    You can’t pan-dle the truth! Actually, you probably can, because it’s an indisputable fact that the Big Gold Pick and Pan are ri-pick-ulously magnificent! The cheerful chums were built by another legendary pair – Peter Mason and Tony Durham – under the supervision of the Grenfell Men’s Shed, in recognition of Grenfell’s history as a gold town.

    But first, a confession. When I was told about the Big Gold Pick and Pan several years ago, I misheard and believed the attraction to be the Big Gold Peter Pan. As a boy who refuses to grow up, I understandably made it my life’s ambition to meet my hero. Imagine my surprise when I turned up in Grenfell, resplendent in my green tights and felt hat, only to be met by a set of oversized gold mining implements!

    The ten-foot tools were up against it from the outset, but I’m happy to say they briskly dug their way into my heart. Yes, it might sound like I’m pan-dering to them and pick-ing favourites, but along with the Big Axe they’re the most glorious utensils I’ve ever met. I think even the Big Gold Panner would approve!

    A Bunch of Tools

    Despite the simple nature of the subjects (don’t tell them I said that!), the Pick and Pan are easy to take a photo with and easily accessible in the middle of vibrant Grenfell. In fact, they’re the centrepiece of a community-funded campsite, so it’s possible to sleep right next to them!

    As a keen camper I was never going to miss that opportunity, and shared a cheeky glass of Pinot noir with the Bigs as a stunning sunset painted Grenfell colours I can’t even describe. I turned in early, content with my day’s adventuring, but a funny thing happened during the night. Being so close to my friends, I could feel their presence and hear them calling to me – just as Ploddy has throughout my life.

    I visited them several times beneath the light of a silvery moon, until I eventually decided that resisting their siren song was futile. The Pick and Pan wanted a sleepover, so I grabbed my handsome wearable sleeping bag and snuggled in for the night. We gossiped, we sang pop songs, we opened up with secrets we’d never told anyone else.

    I can honestly say I’ve never had a more peaceful sleep. Come the morning, as the birds sand to awaken the people of Grenfell, I enjoyed a cup of coffee with the Big Pick and Pan, said a tearful goodbye, and regretfully left town. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

  • The Big Prawn, Crangan Bay, NSW

    The Big Prawn, Crangan bay, New South Wales, Australia

    BREAKING NEWS: It’s with a heavy heart that I announce the passing of the beautiful, whimsical Big Prawn. Our fearless friend was found dismembered on the morning of August 5, 2023, his head and legs sawn off by an angle grinder and stolen. Police believe they could turn up on the black market.

    Next time you pick up a bag of frozen prawns, please, please check if there’s a metre-long metal head and some sawn-off chelas in there. With some luck, we can put the Prawn back together before he’s smuggled out of the country.

    Don’t try to slip this shrimp on the barbie, because he’s uncookable! The Big Prawn was caught in furious bushfires in 2013, which saw everything around the durable decapod – including the service station he was perched in front of – burnt to a crisp.

    He now looks a little lonely by the side of the Old Pacific Highway in Lake Macquarie, surrounded by rubble and trapped behind an old fence. But wipe away those tears, because the future is bright for our fire-fighting friend, with a bidding war raging for his ownership.

    Controversy erupted in 2020 when nearby Central Coast Council made a play to buy the prawn to welcome visitors heading south – as Ploddy does to those coming up from Sydney.

    “People often say we don’t get any attention in the north,” Councillor Jillian Hogan told a concerned reporter from the ABC. “Well, the Big Prawn is a good way of getting some attention!”

    Don’t come the raw prawn!

    However, with Central Coast Council drowning in debt, the move looks unlikely – which is music to the ears of the prawn’s creator, local legend Shane Simpson. He designed the creature in 1991 at the behest of a popular fish-and-chip shop, and based his design on a huge crustacean shipped up from Tasmania especially for the project.

    “We’d love to see it stay in Lake Macquarie, only for the fact that every time I drive past I tell the grandkids I made it,” he exclaimed. “We made it with a fire-resistant resin, and it did its job – it didn’t melt!”

    Just like his big brother in Ballina, the Crangan Bay Prawn has scurried through the fire and found peace and contentment on the other side. He was recently joined by the Big Pine Cones in nearby Caves Beach, in what is fast becoming a hotbed for Big action. Ah, sorry for the insensitive wordplay, buddy!

  • The Big Pine Cones, Caves Beach, NSW

    The Big Pine Cones, Caves Beach, New South Wales

    Pining for some Bigs with a view? Then cone on down to splendid Caves Beach, which boasts sparkling blue water, resplendent golden sand, and two of the largest pine cones you’re ever likely to see!

    Officially known as Norfolk – after the spiky spheres dropped by the many Norfolk Island pines growing in the area – these stately seed pods were created by Newcastle-based artist/beekeeper Kelly-Ann Lees in 2019. Pine and Cone, as I prefer to call them, stand 1.5 metres tall and are just the right size for cuddles!

    You might have noticed they’re rusting away, but don’t fret, because they were designed to evolve along with the coastal environment. No cones about it, they simply get more beautiful every day!

    These brown bombshells aren’t the cone-ly Bigs in Lake Macquarie, with the inimitable Big Prawn only 15 minutes away. Do your wood seed for the day and say hello to all three of these coastal cuties.

    Honestly, if I had a conifer every pine someone told me how ex-tree-mely nice these guys are, I’d be a rich Bigs Bardot!

  • The Big Murray Cod, Tocumwal, NSW

    The Big Murray Cod, Tocumwal, New South Wales

    “Oh my cod, isn’t he big!”

    Visitors to the river village of Tocumwal have been exclaiming this for almost six decades, and this water-dwelling dreamboat has lived a life most of us would be en-fish-ious of.

    This bulky baby boomer’s story starts in the swingin’ 60s, when three of the more rebellious members of the local Chamber of Commerce decided the town needed something exciting to draw in tourists. They looked northward to Ploddy the Dinosaur, who was luring streams of Big-ficianados into Gosford, and a fish of epic proportions was soon on the carps… uh, sorry, make that the cards!

    Big Thing visionaries Kathryn Moore, Alice Johnson and Lorna Nash held dozens of dances and sizzled sufficient sausages to raise the £3000 required to build the aquatic amigo. He was designed by Melbourne’s Duralite Company, and made from fiberglass with a steel skeleton. His outer details – such as his suave scrap metal fins – were lovingly added by volunteers and admirers.

    The Big Murray Cod was o-fish-ially unveiled at a gala ceremony and quickly became a symbol of Berrigan Shire’s burgeoning counter-culture movement. His arrival ushered in a summer of love, with long-haired hippies, flower children, beatniks and other assorted delinquents rolling into Tocumwal to smack him right on the lips!

    You’re carping on and on… When will this fin-ish?

    The ’70s saw bell-bottom pants and safari suits find favour. But the Big Murray Cod wasn’t a slave to fashion and, aside from a few repaints, barely changed his look. Things took a grim turn in 1982, however, when the good people of Swan Hill, Victoria, erected a Giant Murray Cod of their own.

    Bigger and fishier than the Tocumwal version, it was feared he’d hog all the glory. But the original still reels in the tourists – and there’s no de-baiting that!

    Flannelette and a sullen attitude were the fish’s forte in the ’90s, and he was ahead of the tech curve by opening his own MySpace page in the 2000s. His family has since expanded to include Murray cods in St George and Tintaldra. The younger fish have grown up to be respected members of their communities, so obviously weren’t cod-dled as larvae.

    This Big has settled down in recent years and is content, like most his age, to spend his days reading Aldi catalogues and preventing younger Bigs – such as the nearby Big Strawberry – from owning real estate. After so many years and such wild adventures, there are still a gill-ion reason to visit him, and it feels like Woodstock whenever one spends time with this fish.

    It’s safe to say things are going swimmingly for the Big Murray Cod!

    Please note: the plaque beneath this fish erroneously identifies him as the second oldest of the Bigs, but this honour actually belongs to the Big Banana, with Ploddy being the OG Big. Upon discovering this sickening glitch, I raced straight to the mayor’s office and was assured that the plaque would be corrected as a matter of urgency. I’m sorry, but there are some fins that I just can’t let go!

  • 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.

  • Digby the Dinosaur, Albury, NSW

    Digby the Dinosaur, Albury, New South Wales

    Open the door, get on the floor
    Everybody walk with Digby the Dinosaur!

    She might be 65 million years old, but this delightful dino is still a big kid at heart. Digby lives in Albury Botanic Gardens’ wonderfully-presented Children’s Garden and is more than happy to be kissed, cuddled and climbed upon. It’s safe to say she’s dinos-awfully popular!

    Digby’s not as famous as her aunty Ploddy or as grand as her uncle Big Kev, but is every bit as remarkable. She’s immense yet adorable, vivacious yet shy, and incredibly unique. Oh, and those eyes are to die-nosaur for! You can find her hiding away in the trees, head to the ground to say hello to her friends.

    For those who are overwhelmed by Bigs on this scale, Digby’s baby son Diego is playing blissfully nearby – and he’ll fill you with joy. There are also cubby houses, a fairy temple, and a terrifying troll cave that I was too much of a sissy to enter!

    After a big morning of playing with Digby and Diego, why not head to the nearby World’s Biggest Rolling Pin for a sandwich at their dino… uh, I mean diner!

  • 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 Apple, Tallong, NSW

    The Big Apple, Tallong, New South Wales

    The Southern Highlands of New South Wales has Big Things apple-nty, but none are as scrumptious as this crimson cutie! The Big Apple is of epic proportions, astonishingly detailed – just look at his hyper-realistic leaf – and always in season!

    Tallong legend Jim ‘The Apple Man’ Watling set the peels in motion in 1988. He commissioned a chap named Carl Zeschke to build a fitting tribute to the area’s vivacious agricultural industry. The Apple sat contentedly atop Jim’s shed for three decades, luring in customers to buy fresh fruit.

    Not surprisingly, he became the apple of Jim’s eye!

    It’s Tallong way to the top if you wanna Big Apple!

    The healthy heartthrob was removed in 2017, presumably because it was impossible to get any work done with him around. Fortunately, he was soon popped on a pedestal in the sprawling Tallong Memorial Park. He was even provided with a canopy to keep him nice and dry. The grand unveiling was a Royal Gala event, with throngs of locals and several Pink Ladies in attendance.

    He now takes pride of place plum in the middle of the rustic village, inspiring a new generation of Big Thing fanatics. There’s even a delightful playground for the kiddies to explore as Mum and Dad gaze in open-mouthed wonder at the Apple. What a perfect way to apple fritter away a an afternoon!

    Things are not as peachy as they seem, however. The good people of Tallong are in a brutal dis-fruit with the residents of Yerrinbool, home to a rival Big Apple. Reminiscent of similar unrest between fans of the pear of Big Pineapples, the feud stems from the fact each community believes their Big is the one true Big Apple, and neither looks like they’ll crumble. Honestly, guys, make juice, not war! Hopefully continuing discussions between village elders will prove fruitful.

    And please, nobody tell them about Batlow’s bevy of Big Apples!

    If it’s been too long since you’ve been to Tallong, the time’s ripe to visit the Big Apple!

  • Ossie the Mossie, Hexham, NSW

    Put the Mortein away, he’s friendly! Ossie the Mossie watches vigilantly over the much-loved Hexham Bowling Club, and after giving him a good insect-ion I’m pleased to report that he certainly doesn’t suck!

    Hexham Grey mosquitos have long been the bowlo’s symbol, so in 1994 members cobbled together $17,200 to build a personable pest of epic proportions. Basing his design on an oversized chicken displayed at a nearby car dealership, he was introduced by Lord Mayor John McNaughton to unprecedented scenes of jubilation. Of course some of the local bar-flys found Ossie to be quite buzz-arre, but ultimately warmed to him.

    Like me, this super-detailed Big Thing is a real social butterfly! His legion of admirers certainly enjoyed honking their horns as they drove past during our photo shoot. We were like two peas in a pod but, whilst I’m a natural beauty, Ossie has had some work done to retain his youthful complexion.

    Handsome from his head to his mosqui-toes

    “Ossie had some plastic surgery in 2004 and 2008 because of damage from the elements and other insects,” former Secretary Manager Jon Chin told an enraptured reporter from The Hunter Headline.

    “He had another ‘nip and tuck’ in 2010 when the Roads and Maritime Service ordered Ossie be moved back four metres to assist with the widening of the Pacific Highway. That time he received some animation including glowing green eyes, a new red belly, and a neon nose.”

    After gawping in open-jawed wonder at Ossie and taking a few (hundred!) photos with him, make sure you pop into the club. Not only are the staff delightful, but the Riverside Bistro offers a banquet menu that’s to die for. Don’t pass away, however, because the Big Kookaburra and the Big Ugg Boots are tantalisingly close and well worth visiting. Or perhaps you feel drawn towards the Big Pencil?

    Alright, alright, I’ll stop bugging you now – bye!

    A quick note: Unfortunately this post has received a number of disturbing comments referencing (forgive my language here) Ossie’s ‘big prick’, or variations thereof. Seriously guys, act your age and not your shoe size. Such ‘humour’ will not be glamorised on this website.

  • Itsy Bitsy the Big Spider, Urana, NSW

    Itsy Bitsy the Big Spider
    Climbed up the water tower
    Down came the rain
    And made the spider cower
    Out came the sun
    And dried up all the rain
    And Itsy Bitsy the Big Spider
    Climbed up the tower again!

    You’d hate to be a fly in the cosy village of Urana, because it’s home to a spider the size of a small car! But don’t be scared, because this aspiring web designer is a charming chap who you absolutely arach-need to meet. In fact, he’s so popular they might have to rename the town Tarant-Urana!

    Despite being a fair way up the tower, Itsy Bitsy is a lot of fun to take photos with and easy to find, living at the end of the main street, next to a small lake with community BBQs. He certainly didn’t mind putting on a tough guy act as I shrieked in terror!

    Itsy Bitsy was created by local artist Andrew Whitehead and revealed in May 2009, taking up residence on the town’s imposing water tower. Made from scrap metal and piping – similar to Murray the Cod – he has eight lovely eyes (doesn’t that make him a spiiiiiiiider?) and loves spinning a yarn. Fittingly, he’s around eight feet tall.

    Brave Andy installed this Big Thing all by himself, which certainly impressed a flabbergasted reporter from the Border Mail. “Mr Whitehead, who is afraid of heights, installed the artwork himself, climbing a 16m ladder then walking around the 30cm rim of the tower carrying an 8kg bracket and 8m of cable,” the breathless report read.

    “Once the bracket and cable were in place a cherry picker raised the spider into position and it was secured with the three cables.”

    Easy Spider

    Thankfully, Andy didn’t build a Daddy Long Legs because Urana’s overrun by bugs; he was in-spidered by the town’s legendary former Aussie Rules team, who were known as the Spiders and surely must’ve played at Webley Stadium.

    Itsy lives reasonably close to his good mates the Big Murray Cod at Tocumwal and the Big Guitar at Narrandera, but thankfully nowhere near Ossie the Mossie, who he’d probably try to eat!

    Today this not-so-creepy crawly is the coolest dude in town and it’s customary for him to appear in wedding photos – newlywebs think he’s the greatest. I’d love to hear more from Itsy Bitsy, so hopefully he’ll launch an arthro-podcast soon!

  • The Big Frogs, Darwin, NT

    Roll out the red carpet, because we’re in the company of some Hollywood bad boys… Ribbet Redford and Dennis Hopper! The amphibian actors squat smugly out the front of the salubrious Ramada Suites, just a hop, skip and jump from Darwin’s waterfront.

    Ribbet and Dennis spawned at the humorously-named Get Stoned Masonry, before re-croak-ating to their current spot when the shop shut. Their identical sisters – the brightly-coloured Sandra Bullfrog and Lillypad Allen – live down the toad at the Territory Wildlife Park in Berry Springs.

    Their current site is an unassuming, but very accessible, home for two superstars. They’re surrounded by shrubs in a quiet street and Dennis, who’s looking worse for wear, has succulent flowers growing out of him. But don’t worry, I didn’t see any Easy Spiders crawling out!

    Despite looking similar, the pair actually have very unique personalities. Ribbet – star of classics such as The Green Gatsby, Charlotte’s Webbed Feet and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Amphibian – is cool, carefree, and a bit of a showboat. Dennis, by comparison, is more intense and eccentric – as seen in his classics Blue Vel-wet and A-frog-alypse Now.

    Both are worthy of a star on the Big Thing Walk of Fame, but are comfortable sharing the slime-light with their hunky cousin, Buffy the Big Cane Toad. They also enjoy staying up all night with their nocturnal neighbour, Chinute Chinute the Big Owl.

    A quick ap-pond-ix; As I was photographing the frogs, Mr Redford made an Indecent Proposal – for me to climb atop him for a hoppy snap! I would’ve loved to spend more time with the long-tongued tough guys, but unfortunately I had other Kermit-ments.

  • The Big Cherries, Young, NSW

    The Big Cherries, Young, New South Wales

    Young is a prosperous inland city with a rich agricultural history, and having their very own Big is the cherry on top! This trio of tasty treats were unveiled in 1983 to rapturous applause, cementing Young’s reputation as the cherry capital of the world. If you’re cherry-picking your favourite Bigs, take a fruitful journey out to see them!

    The red rascals hang daintily next to Young’s historic train station, which offers a small range of tea towels, postcards and magnets with the Cherries on them. Step off the platform and, before your cherry eyes, there they are – three wonderful, glorious cherries peering whimsically over the main street.

    Whilst the monument gives our Bigs the reverence they deserve, I must be ‘that guy’ and take umbrage with the height of it. The Cherries are simply too elevated for a great happy snap, and it’s difficult to attain a true appreciation of their size. However, I’m willing to cherry the hatchet if the local council are willing to make them slightly easier to pick (and pan)!

    Best visited during the National Cherry Festival in December each year, Young is something of a sister city to Chinchilla, who has its own Big Melon and the zany MelonFest. That’s what I like to see – communities as obsessed with their Bigs as I am!

    If you want a wilder, more elusive cherry – and one who wears sunglasses almost as cool as mine! – why not join my quest to meet Victoria’s supercooool Big Cherry? He’s gone into hiding, as any great rockstar has, but with a little encouragement we can bring him back into the public eye.

    In any case, don’t cherry your head in the sand, roll out to Young to eat, drink and be cherry. Thank you cherry much!

  • The Big Cherry, Wyuna, Vic

    The Big Cherry, Wyuna, Victoria

    Sunglasses, cheeky grin, rockstar swagger. No, I’m not talking about myself, I’m describing the coolest cat in the Goulburn Valley, the legendary Big Cherry! The bright-red dude with ’tude has been breaking hearts for the past two decades, so I decided the time to meet this cherry was ripe!

    As I researched the Cherry in my la-big-atory, I discovered that rumours of his current whereabouts abounded. Some said he’d moved to Byron Bay to become an influencer, others that he’d fled to South America to live with a giant tamarillo. I tracked him down to the Big Cherry Farm in splendid Wyuna, where he’s always been. Rumours of his travels have, apparently, been greatly exaggerated.

    Tragically, upon arrival I discovered that the farm has been closed for several years due to water shortages, with the sunnies-sporting-sweetheart locked 100 metres down a driveway, behind a gate. I called out to whoever might be inhabiting the farm to let me in, but there was no response. Upon dialling the number on the sign out the front, I discovered it was disconnected. I yodelled towards the Big Cherry himself, in the desperate hope that he might roll towards me to say hello, but it wasn’t to be. He just sat there, back turned, smiling into the twilight.

    Left cold and alone in rural Victoria, I took a forlorn photo with the sign out the front of the farm. To put it in perspective, it was like missing out on an Eagle-Eye Cherry concert due to a drunken stepfather and consoling yourself by listening to his acclaimed 1997 single Save Tonight on a Sony Discman.

    A Cherry Nice Fellow Indeed

    I was shattered that I was unable to meet the cherry, and disgusted with myself for letting you, his fans and admirers, down. My sincerest apologies, although I hope my encounter with the Big Fruit Bowl goes some way towards for it – I think there’s a cherry or two in there.

    With tears in my eyes I raced across the border to spend time with the more wholesome cherries in Young as a consolation prize, but it just wasn’t the same. They don’t have the glasses, the style, or the devil-may-care demeanour that harkens back to a young Val Kilmer. Young’s Big Cherries might steal your heart, but they would never steal your girlfriend.

    I won’t, however, give up on my dream to meet the Big Cherry – just look at those Reebok Pumps, he’s a regular Cherry-quille O’Neal! If you own the farm, know the owners, or have any other info or tips to help me in my quest to spend an afternoon with a really big piece of fruit, please contact me immediately. I’ll jump on my scooter and ride all night to have a lunch date with this spherical spunk if I have to. Trust me, if I get to meet Captain Cool, I’ll be cherry appreciative!

  • The Big Chook, Mount Vernon, NSW

    The Big Chook, Mount Vernon, New South Wales

    What’s chookin’, good lookin’? This king-sized cockerel really is something to crow about, and you’ll have egg on your face if you don’t chick him out!

    A Western Sydney icon for decades, the Chook is an extremely charismatic old-school Big. He looks a bit homemade, like the Big Golden Dog and fellow feather-head the Big Parrot, but that just makes him more relatable.

    He stands proudly outside a wildly popular egg farm named after him, and locals find it almost impossible to drive past without popping in. It’s not just for a photo op with the Chook, because along with an enviable selection of chutneys and jams, the on-site store sells two-and-a half doz-hen eggs for just $4 – and you don’t need a coop-on for that!

    Whilst it’s not possible to cuddle the ravishing rooster because he’s behind a chicken-wire fence, he’s in a great position for a happy snap. Just look at the two of us strutting around together, we really are poultry in motion!

    He’s really plucking big!

    Local legend Chris Sammut spent two glorious weeks building this peck-tacular specimen, at a cost of $1500. He based the Chook on a styrofoam model of a rooster, then moulded him out of chicken wire and duck tape. He then sprayed the whole thing with fibreglass and added the details with all-feather paint.

    The Big Chook was completed in 1986 or 1987, apparently without council approval. Chris kept him as a temporary attraction for a few weeks in case a busybody turned up to complain, before concreting him to the ground. I guess that cemented the Big Chook’s place in the community!

    There are rumours of other oversized chickens prowling the fields and farms of Australia – and plenty of other birds, such as the Big Pelican, the Big Owl and the Big Penguin, but this handsome chap is near the top of the pecking order.

    There’s also a rather large strawberry nearby, but unfortunately it’s nothing to crow about.

    Don’t chicken out, take a beak at the Big Chook today – and hurry up because the cluck is ticking!

    Please note, I understand that there are some obvious and tired jokes that can be made comparing this delightfully large chicken to a part of the male anatomy. You probably think you’re being both original and hilarious. Trust me, you couldn’t be further from the truth. The Big Chook is a gentle, kind being who should be admired and revered, not become the butt of crass jokes. Neither he nor I appreciate the fowl language!