Lesley, That's what happens when you get to my age. You have trouble enough keeping up with the action ten miles down the road, let alone on the other side of the world. My prejudices all stem from two or three decades back when literary life in places like London & New Guinea was absolutely swamped with what felt like teeming hoards of Australians. The bastards were everywhere. All these sun browned two-metre men striding around the place stealing the women & putting us to shame with their unaffected & friendly ways. (GG, of course, as the only visible woman didn't seem quite so friendly; though I'm glad to report that nowadays she's turned, with her granny specs & teasing smile, into a complete Doty Pet.) A writers' festival every two weeks, you say. Cripes, if they all check in at 20,000 that means something like half a million book lovers. Or is it half a million book writers ? I'd no idea. What is an indigenous press, incidentally ? Is that the same as aborigenous ? As you might expect from my previous post, my interest really begins to quicken at this point. `Mugabala' sounds distinctly colourful. Could you let us have even a snippet of the innovative work appearing there ? Again, my apologies for the stereotyping. I'm disappointed not to have raised more than a fleeting smile. Still. One stereotype obviously holds true if yourself, Camille & Godot are anything to go by: the Ozzie with the infectious sense of fun. Scottie B.