I come from Gladstone and return there at the end of each uni year. Don't let this glossy brochure fool you - it's a horrible place to live. Well, not so much to live, as to grow up. It is beautiful for tourists, I'll give it that much. But that "solid industrial base" makes the town hideously working class. I know I'm sounding like I'll be first against the wall when the revolution comes, but hear me out. I know no other way to describe the feel that permeates the town, or at least the teen part of it. The average girl is married by 20, and was probably pregnant two years earlier. The non-average girls flee the town, further skewing the statistics. The guys work in industry, or in the rest of the town that supports that industry. They become average in one form or another - suburban bliss or sub-standard domestic nightmare. From which springs the next generation and the vicious cycle continues.

I fled. I fully intend to return, if I return, only briefly and aloofly. And should the visit be extended, it is to be ended as soon as any children that might, perchance, be under my care reach the age of nine.