What was Tony Abbott doing when he got lost in the outback? That is the question that nobody really has an answer for, not that anybody really cares. If the truth betold he was probably having some quality time with his Lord and Saviour. Something akin to Jesus being lost in the wilderness although Tony’s excursion only lasted a few hours.
Did he receive some divine revelation as to how he might wrestle power from the Labour Ruddernaught or perhaps how to Christianise this fair land of ours so that it more resembles the American heartlands with women ironing and men painting picket fences white.
It would appear from the available reports that Mr abbott and friends were quad biking in the dessert under the Guidance of a local Aboriginal elder, a certain Mr Conway, and were searching for sacred indigenous sites near Fossil Creek about 250kms south west of Alice Springs.
At some stage Mr Conway decided to head off solo and find some bush tucker but assured the rest of the party that he would be back in no time at all.
I strongly suspect that he went for a cup of tea with some mates over yonder hill and decided to let the city slickers fend for themselves as the day faded and the chill evening set in.
And hapless they were. Lost at sea as it were in unfamiliar territory. A satellite phone offered them no hope as they were unable to figure out how to use it! I’m sure a ten year old child could have figured out how to call 000 and save the day, but sadly the leader of the opposition and several other grown men were none the wiser as to its operation, they even failed to send a text message.
Just when the expedition was staring a cold night in the dessert in the face and the bed time prayers were sure to be voiced who should appear but Mr Conway to save the day, who orders all to jump on the bikes and head for home before it gets too dark.
Let this be a lesson to you Mr Abbott. Bring your compass wherever you go and pack a sleeping bag, things might get frosty.