I didn’t even get to the door before I heard his booming voice. “G’day! Just come down from Stanthorpe with a load of fruit. Wanna box?” A knife with a piece of apple balancing on the blade was thrust towards me.
Sure enough, in the truck on the street, there were Royal Gala, Granny Smiths and Delicious apples and oranges. Loads of oranges.
They’ll keep for weeks he said. There was not a sign of cold storage, or selection of the most beautiful looking fruit, or sizing to look good in the store. I settled for half a box.
I’ve been a bit nonplussed in recent days, what with finding driveway service at a petrol station last week in Tasmania and now fruit coming direct from the orchard to your door. What is the world coming to?