The pub at Yalgoo is quite spectacular when seen for the first time hot pink and glowing in the late afternoon sun. However, it’s the paint job inside that’s the show stealer - the liberal use of a garish green the likes of which I’ve never seen before, certainly not in nature, but somehow, in this setting, it actually works. The walls are largely bare except for a couple of jokey 80s-style alcohol-related posters, a collection of old Yalgoo number plates, and an upside-down Exit sign.

Their father was a stockman and their mother also “worked the cattle from the back of a horse” - it was only natural for Patrick to follow in their footsteps. He spoke fondly of his memories, mustering by day and gathering around campfires in the middle of nowhere at night before falling asleep under the stars…

Yalgoo, affectionately known as The Goo, feels like that one-horse town. There’s still plenty of evidence of its once thriving past, and the town has obviously realised that if it is to stay alive in the 21st century, it needs to keep its history alive too…