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Beef to Go: The Quilpie Cattle Story

In the warm darkess of an outback night, beef cattle join a train at Quilpie, in far western Queensland. For the next 25 hours, they will travel 1000kms to a suburban abattoir near Brisbane. As the aged locomotives express haul the rusting wagons ever onward, ticketless bovines with wide, trusting eyes peer out between slats on their one-way journey to destiny. Contemplating this business at Central train station a few days later, the parallels were rather startling. All these people rushed to offices to work, so they can earn and spend. After paying the essential there may but little left, but no heed. Putting aside for tomorrow seems a stale folly, like yesterday's sandwiches. 'In the long run, we're all dead,' famously said an economist. If we are but cattle to our eventual fate, it would be tempting to crown hedonism as king. Prudence and thrift become yesterday's words, a fibre-enriched breakfast cereal swept aside for the espressos and energy drinks of a new generation. So it is with thoughtful hearts that we pause and ponder the assembly of cattle from a thousand hills. Wisdom might know their fate, but folly repeats it. 'Climb board for a short trip to a new paddock; there'll be sweet green grass and hay for all.' Perhaps we should be careful what we ask for, lest our wishes be granted. The destination may be not quite what we expected. Or we could just bask in the fading warmth, knowing that the bankers, politicians and shysters of a thousand inner-city suburbs appreciate our labours.