As Alvaro drove up the lane between the high, whitewashed walls, it was evident to Country that there was no exit.  At the end of the lane were big, black, iron gates but no indication of the "flash" resort that Alvaro had been spruiking.  When Alvaro stopped the ute even Blind Freddy would have known that these gates were the destination.<br/><br/>(http://www.news.com.au/common/imagedata/0,,5612573,00.jpg)<br/><br/>Country sat there reflecting on his day with Alvaro.  During his discussions with Anslem Manufacturing he had spent most of his time with Alvaro.  During these times they had shared many tales.  Much of what Country had to say was of his experience with opal mining, but when he told Alvaro about mustering and breaking in camels Alvaro had been quick to extend an invitation to spend a day at his property.  Alvaro had a block of about 80 hectares where he bred and raised bulls for the fights.<br/><br/>Together they had spend the day being boys, on horse mustering the bulls, then running them into the yards, drenching and vaccinating them  This was Country's first exposure to the Andalusian breed of horses, and he doubted that it would ever replace a Brumby for stock work.<br/><br/>Stepping out of the ute, a fine cloud of dust filled the air, and he realized that his clothes and Akubra were covered in powdery dust.  Alvaro picked the cases out of the tray and turning to Country began to laugh.<br/><br/><strong>Country!  Amigo!  You should see your face!</strong><br/><br/>Turning to the side mirror, Country could see what Alvaro was referring to.  Between the dust raised by the beasts in the yard and the sweat generated pushing and chasing them, Country now had rivulets of dried mud embedded in every line in his face and neck.<br/><br/><strong>I'm not sure they will let me in looking like this.</strong><br/><br/><strong>Eh, Amigo.  Don't you worry yourself about that!  I've rung and made the arrangements for you.  You will be welcome and you will have a fine time!  TRUST ME!</strong><br/><br/>Alvaro walked over to shake hands.<em>Why were these Europeans always shaking hands?  It seemed like every time you moved, they wanted to shake your hand.  Well, at least they weren't Frogs.  I had heard that Frogs wanted to kiss you, and not just once, but on both cheeks.</em><br/><br/><strong>Thanks for everything Alvaro.  I'll be in touch to finalize delivery.</strong>I watched him pull a uiey and waved farewell as he sped off in his dusty old ute.  There didn't seem to be anyone about, so picking up my portes, I approached the gates.<strong>Oi!  Anyone about?</strong>When no-one replied I pressed the buzzer mounted alongside the gate.<br/><br/>While waiting for some sort of response I thought about where I'd been and how I came to be here.<br/><br/>I reckon I'd have to call myself an opal miner – least-ways, that's where I'd made some money.  Country isn't my real name, but whenever I wandered into a pub and people asked me where I was from, I always replied “up country”.<br/><br/>I had spent much of my young life underground in the opal mines of Cooper Pedy and Andamooka where I was born.  As a child I helped mum and dad work in the mines.  When they died in an explosion, I took over their claims, opened new ones and continued a lonely existence living several metres under ground.  Temperatures generally run at about 50C during the day, and cools off dramatically at night, so everyone lives underground to escape the heat and cold.<br/><br/>After the death of my parents, my only contact with the world had been the weekly visits from the postie, who brought in supplies in exchange for gems I had found.  Occasionally there were visits with other noodlers and miners, but it was a pretty lonely existence.  Eventually, my lack of skill or luck caused me to look elsewhere.  While walking the back country, I met up with Affram.<br/><br/>Affram was a second or third generation descendant of one of the thousands of Arab camel drivers and their families who had come to Australia to carry supplies to the Northern Territories.  When the telegraph line was built, and a rail line constructed these camel drivers were out of work and the camels were eventually released to wander.  As a teenager, Affram had tried to make a go of things as a shearer, roustabout, a jackaroo and even Cook's assistant, but because he was a “wog” he was never accepted in the shearer's quarters.<br/><br/>Eventually he had begun to muster the wild camel and sell them to agents from Saudi Arabia, and the UAR.  Together, Affram and I would scout an area, locate a mob of camel and then built yards.  Once the yards were built we would draft the camels, break them in and sell them on.<br/><br/>When we were sinking a dam for one of our planned yards we uncovered some promising looking potch that I recognised as potential Opal bearing.  The dam sinking took on a whole new direction, and eventually, we had a shaft leading four metres underground as it followed that potch.  Branching out sideways, we had opened a large cavern and found some excellent specimens.    Affram and I had done good, real good from this site, and had sold up all the best opals, including a real treasure.  Affram was able to sell these gems through a Hong Kong dealer for just over $US20M.<br/><br/>When the money hit the bank, Affram was content to return to the claim and wait there while I arranged for some heavy equipment to be brought in that would allow us to explore at a much faster rate.<br/><br/>I took Affram’s advice and headed off to other mining countries to explore the equipment being used and manufactured.   Eventually, this led me to Spain to meet with representatives of a company that had developed a reputation for building reliable equipment.  While touring the company’s site, Alvaro had told me of a new resort called “The Place”.  He had highly recommended this resort as a must visit location in Spain.  A place that I would really enjoy.<br/><br/><br/>