Strayaday at Maccas

It’s Strayaday and I’m hurtling down the highway, in need of a coffee.

The big M sign comes towards me like a mirage.

Ah McCafe - the place we know from Oprah where every trendy Aussie goes for their morning macchiato.

Ah the half-way-to-the-country Maccas, saviour of many a school-holiday kids-filled car.

Ah a place to use the bathroom and grab a bite.

Outside the men with tats, shorts and Australia Day t-shirts are chatting as their dogs roam the backs of their flag-covered utes.

Inside it’s packed with Aussies celebrating their national day. A group of Chinese Aussies are eating coconut cake from their own plastic bags and drinking McCafe coffees from paper cups.

At another table a European mama Aussie and her son are eating tuna out of tins from a small esky.

It’s a new trend in such a trendy place: “bring-your-own McDonald’s”. But I don’t think people have quite realised yet that picnics are meant to be held outside.

Two kids with Aussie flags tied to them and their faces painted wander past in pursuit of Happy Meals.

I get into a conversation with an elderly woman while waiting for my cappuccino. She’s going to a family barbecue around the corner.

“My husband just had to pop out to make a bet on the horses,” she says. She points to the pub across the way. I imagine the scene inside and hope she doesn’t have to wait too long.

I push a pile of old Big Mac cartons across the table as I sit down to drink my coffee and enjoy the patriotic headlines in the Tele. But then I’m abused by sounds of kids screeching their way through pink and purple tunnels in the playground. Mum is squeezing her way through in pursuit of them.

The cacophony of sound and the smell of old hamburgers and fries is too much. I drink my lukewarm coffee and leave.

Next stop is the IGA store a bit further down the coast to pick up my supplies for my few days at the hermit’s lair. But I can’t get away from patriotism just yet.There’s a display of Strayaday paraphernalia including yellow velour shorts with stubby holders attached.

I ask the check-out bloke if he thinks they’re becoming. He suggests that road workers should wear them rather than their vests.

“That’d stop the traffic,” he jokes.

“If only,” I muse as I head back out on the highway.