How a childhood crisscrossing regional Australia has shaped my crime novels
Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her.
The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months.
My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it.
We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended.
More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas.
Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books.
I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre?
There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works.
When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt.
One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap.
"Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW."
I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award.
There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice!
I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious.
I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places.
One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine.
My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood.
Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish.
I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways.
Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me.
I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home.
Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her.
The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months.
My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it.
We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended.
More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas.
Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books.
I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre?
There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works.
When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt.
One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap.
"Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW."
I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award.
There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice!
I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious.
I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places.
One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine.
My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood.
Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish.
I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways.
Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me.
I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home.
Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her.
The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months.
My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it.
We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended.
More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas.
Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books.
I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre?
There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works.
When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt.
One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap.
"Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW."
I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award.
There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice!
I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious.
I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places.
One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine.
My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood.
Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish.
I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways.
Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me.
I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home.
Shelley Burr's crime fiction is steeped in Aussie landscapes and characters. The author of the Lane Holland detective novels Wake (2022), Ripper (2024) and now Vanish explains the countryside that has inspired her.
The bio inside my books says that I grew up in Newcastle and Glenrowan, and the road in between. There's always a pause when I tell people I grew up not in one and then the other, but back and forth every few months.
My parents, then a remote area nurse from coastal NSW and an air force radio operator from country Victoria, met in Darwin. Their marriage imploded for reasons that had nothing to do with geography, but the result was that getting to spend time with both my parents involved a great deal of it.
We didn't always drive-my brother and I sometimes made the journey as unaccompanied minors in a tiny FlyPelican prop plane from Newcastle to Sydney, then a thankfully less bouncy flight to Albury. I think I was the only passenger ever to follow the ongoing plot in the Ansett inflight magazine for children, although their collapse meant I never did find out how it ended.
More often, we made the eight-hour drive (more with "driver reviver" breaks). I was a bookish kid, and so the marathon journeys were an opportunity to read. When I ran out of books, or the journey pushed on past sunset, I made up my own stories. Even now, a long drive is one of the best tricks I have for getting unstuck with my writing and I always get home from a regional writers' festival brimming with new notes and ideas.
Passing through so many small Australian towns left me with a deep affection for them, and insight into the ways they are similar and yet different. That has had a massive influence on the setting of my books.
I don't set my books in real places. I don't like the idea of taking somewhere real people live and layering a dark history over it. But I do draw inspiration from real towns. Geography is not a strength of mine, so it's useful to be able to look at real maps and check how the streets might be laid out, what number and type of shops would be realistic. Would there be a school, would there be a police station, how far would people be willing to drive to get to the nearest regional centre?
There's also a freedom in using a fictional place as the setting. I can start from what's real and tweak it in any way the story demands, without worrying about instant messages and emails from readers put out that I've completely misunderstood how their local bus system works.
When my debut, Wake, came out I opted not to name the place that inspired the small-town setting of Nannine. I enjoyed how keen readers were to guess, and was reassured that I'd built somewhere that felt real when people asked if I had perhaps based it on the place where they grew up. Most guesses were a little too far to the east, a reflection of just how much of Australia's population is clustered in the green part of the map. Nannine's foundations are firmly in the red dirt.
One of the highlights of the promotional tour for Wake was the moment a reader named the actual town, in front of an audience at the Occasional Wine Bar in Boorowa. She first asked if Nannine was Broken Hill, and I explained that it was not, but the larger town the characters visit in a few scenes was. The reader grinned, like she had sprung a planned trap.
"Then it's Ivanhoe, NSW."
I couldn't have denied it if I'd wanted to, the audience exploded at the look on my face. Later I nervously asked her if I'd done the town justice, and hearing that I had was better than any award.
There's an excitement about seeing your own tiny piece of the world represented in fiction - especially for Australians, when most entertainment expects us to relate to lives in New York or Los Angeles. I still remember the frisson of reading a scene in Tobias McCorkell's coming of age novel Everything in its Right Place, when the teenage main character and his father stop to eat in the Nagambie bakery. I'd eaten there many times with my own father. I know those tables! I've had that vanilla slice!
I've never been to Ivanhoe - I planned a research trip while drafting Wake, but unnecessary travel amid the restrictions at the time felt unethical. I've drawn closer and closer to home with my later books, and the influence of my earlier travels is obvious.
I found the setting for my next book, Ripper, in the midst of a move from Canberra to the Albury-Wodonga region, where we live now. The fictional town of Rainier sits exactly halfway between Sydney and Melbourne. Readers who are particularly good at pub trivia would know that there is already a real town in that spot -Tarcutta. I stopped in Tarcutta to stretch my legs, and was struck by a sign directing drivers to turn one way for Sydney, and another for Melbourne. I was fascinated by the idea of a town defined by being on the way to two other places.
One thing that struck me on my family's travels up and down the highways was that every town has something like that. Newcastle has a fort that fired "in anger" on a Japanese submarine during the war. Glenrowan was the site of the last stand of the Kelly Gang. From a child's view the trip ran from The Big Merino in Goulburn to the Dog on the Tuckerbox in Gundagai then the Holbrook submarine.
My private investigator character, Lane Holland, starts the books literally and figuratively homeless after a lifetime spent moving about, first with his family who worked the agricultural show circuit and later going wherever there's a case for him. I'm often asked if the remote setting of Wake was inspired by my time in Glenrowan -and it was. But out of all my characters I feel the most affinity for the constant motion of Lane's childhood.
Country Victoria ended up feeling like home, and I now live on 10 hectares that we're trying to turn into a productive permaculture farm. That inspired the Karpathy farm that Lane visits in my latest book, Vanish.
I'm sure my neighbours will recognise the steep hills and treacherous winding road that leads up to it. I have discovered in the writing that inspiration works both ways.
Vanish is soaked in paranoia, and the fear that someone is watching. When I took a break from writing to check the goats or the chickens, I started seeing ghosts. Every humanoid shape out of the corner of my eye became someone watching me.
I plan to set my next book far from here, but I think that no matter where I choose, there will be some aspect of the setting that feels like home.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Sky News AU
13 hours ago
- Sky News AU
Tourists warned of drownings and drink spiking as DFAT travel website updates travel advice for Bali-bound Australians
Official travel advice for Aussie holidaymakers in Indonesia has changed, with Bali-bound tourists now being urged to be aware of rough seas and spiked beverages. The Department of Foreign Affairs has updated the Indonesia section on its website, which advises to 'exercise a high degree of caution' while visiting the Southeast Asian country. Even higher levels of caution are advised for some areas of Indonesia, the website said. The latest update on May 30 has now warned Australians to the dangers of methanol poisoning when being served alcoholic drinks, and it said beverages and food should not be left unattended. 'Drinks may be spiked or mixed with toxic substances,' the update cautioned. It said there have been reports of methanol poisoned drinks in the country, including in the popular destinations of Bali and Lombok. Smartraveller has also urged caution around swimming at Indonesian beaches, with many of them being 'unpatrolled'. 'Australians have drowned in coastal areas, due to rough seas and strong rip currents at popular tourist beaches including in Bali,' the advice said. Tourists heading to Bali are advised to read the provincial government's behaviour guidelines before they arrive. 'Offensive behaviour that fails to respect local culture, religion, places of worship, and traditional ceremonies can lead to criminal penalties and/or deportation,' Smartraveller said. The website also says authorities in Indonesia are strict when it comes to damaged passports, with people having been refused entry with a damaged passport before. The updated travel information comes after Australian man Lamar Ahchee was arrested in Bali last month for allegedly trying to smuggle cocaine into Indonesia. The 43-year-old originally from Cairns could now face the death penalty if convicted. He was arrested by drug squads at an apartment in Canggu and authorities have alleged Mr Ahchee attempted to smuggle 1.8kg of cocaine into Indonesia from the United Kingdom.
Sky News AU
16 hours ago
- Sky News AU
Retired rugby great turned royal Mike Tindall set to visit Australia next month for Lions-Wallabies test at MCG
Mike Tindall has announced he will be travelling to Melbourne next month for the second Test of the 2025 Lions Tour to watch the Lions take on the Wallabies. The Lions tour begins later this month and will culminate with a three-match test series between the British & Irish Lions and the Australian national team. The historic rugby union tour will also feature matches against Australia's four Super Rugby franchises. - the Western Force, Queensland Reds, NSW Waratahs and ACT Brumbies. Mike, 46, is a retired rugby great and married Zara, Queen Elizabeth II's eldest granddaughter, in 2011 in a major royal wedding in Edinburgh. On Monday, Mike took to Instagram to inform his Aussie fans he will be appearing at the Lions showdown at the iconic MCG on July 26. Tindall, who hosts a rugby podcast titled 'The Good, The Bad & The Rugby' (GBR), will be joined in Australia by his co-hosts James Haskell and Alex Payne. The three also announced a competition via the podcast to win a trip to Australia and watch the game with Tindall. "WIN THE ULTIMATE LIONS EXPERIENCE! Together with Visit Victoria, we're giving away a TRIP TO MELBOURNE for the 2nd Test as the Lions take on the Wallabies – plus a VIP meet & greet with the GBR hosts,' Tindall announced via Instagram. The visit will mark the first time Tindall has been on Aussie shores since a trip to the Gold Coast in January alongside wife Zara for their annual appearance at the Magic Millions racing event. Zara holds no titles and is also not a working royal like her cousins, instead embarking on a career as a pro horse rider and winning a silver medal at the 2012 Olympics as an equestrian. The Tindalls are also free to take part in lucrative paid gigs and partnerships across the world. The down-to-earth Tindalls live on Aston Farm within Princess Anne's privately-owned Gatcombe Park estate and share daughters Mia Grace and Lena Elizabeth and son Lucas Philip.
Sky News AU
2 days ago
- Sky News AU
'Earning two months in two weeks': British expats reveal staggering $9,000 a fortnight salary as a FIFO worker in Australia
The possibility of earning more than $9,000 a fortnight as a Fly In Fly Out (FIFO) mine worker in Australia has seen Brits flock Down Under in droves. Cash-strapped expats from the UK have joined Australian citizens increasingly enticed by the pay packet on offer for FIFO work, particularly for roles in remote mines in Queensland and Western Australia. And it seems the cash benefits of working long, consecutive outside under the Australian sun outweigh the drawbacks. Caithilín Hughes, 26, from Belfast, Ireland, works long 12-hour days for 14 consecutive days under the Aussie sun as a machine operator in WA. She splits her time between the mine and her home in Perth and says she enjoys FIFO work for the "money game." "The average hourly wage for a machine operator is around $55. We work 12-hour days for 14 days straight. That's around $9,240 before tax," Caithilín told the Irish Independent last week. "Now I spend my days driving huge machines in the mines of Western Australia, earning in two weeks what would take some at home in Ireland, nearly two months to earn." Caithilín Hughes took to TikTok to reveal that her daily rate is about $55 per hour, which she said could total more than $600 per day. "Most jobs are probably going to range from $30 an hour to maybe $60 or $70 an hour," the 26-year-old said. "I work as a machine operator, so I can only really talk about what a machine operator makes. "Most people who come on a holiday working visa tend to work as machine operators. So, you're probably going to get paid from $45 to $65 an hour. "Probably most people will make the $50 to $55 range. So, based on $55 an hour, 12 hours a day, you're going to get paid $660 a day. The 26-year-old enjoys a six-day break in Perth before returning to work for two weeks at a time. She is an aspiring investigative journalist and hopes to one day fulfil her career goal in Belfast, but she is content with her life Down Under for now. Englishwoman Aimee Gale also took to TikTok to say she landed a sought-after role as a FIFO worker despite having limited experience. She said most companies are willing to hire people who meet the working requirements. Those include a working holiday visa, a police check, a white card, and certifications for working at heights, confined spaces, and gas testing. "I must have contacted around 30 different agencies, maybe even more, just calling them, emailing them, and if I didn't get a response, I would go up to the recruitment agency and show my interest that way," Aimee said. "A lot of people didn't even respond. "They also said they were looking for somebody who had a year experience or at least six months." Aimee said being a FIFO is not always rosy; it also means being "eaten alive" by mosquitoes and grappling with intense heat. "It's so, so hot, and you're in your full PPE [protective gear] all day," the expat said. She also described her first work experience with rollers, where people operate a machine to compact materials like soil and asphalt, as "awful". "Then, I was doing TA and hose tech, so (it was) simpler, but still hard. Those were 12-hour days," Aimee said. "So, you've just got to go in open-minded. You can't go in thinking, 'Oh my gosh, this is going to be amazing, and I'm going to meet so many new people', which you do, and it's amazing, but there are downsides to things as well. It's not all sunshine and rainbows." Aimee spends her time off work enjoying snorkelling in the Great Barrier Reef and soaking up Australia's rays. Meanwhile, Irish model and beauty pageant titleholder Grainne Gallanagh offered a rare glimpse into her experience as a FIFO worker in a WA mine. Grainne is from Buncrana, Ireland, and relocated to Perth with her fiancé, Ryan Coleman, in March 2023. After a brief holiday, the couple embarked on FIFO work in WA's rugged red dirt mines. It's there the former Miss Universe Ireland spent 12-hour shifts driving trucks under the scorching Australian sun. Despite the harsh conditions, Grainne described the mining work as an exciting adventure that she would highly recommend to others and acknowledged the benefits of well-paid mine work. Grainne was named 'Employee of the Month' in her first month on the job, followed by 'Employee of the Year,' beating hundreds of other workers. "I was so nervous about starting this job and how I would be received in an environment where I had no idea what I was doing, and it was mostly men," she said on social media last September. "But I was so pleasantly surprised; they have genuinely been so unbelievably patient, helpful, kind, and have made me laugh every single day. And the girls have been a dream."
