TRIGGER ALERT:  vegan folk perhaps don’t read.

We arrived at the Roma saleyatds round 7.45 this morning, not quite sure what to expect. It was easy to spot the city slickers – all those wearing shorts and not wearing a western shirt.

By the time we arrived all the cattle were penned in their lots (apparently they-have to be installed by 8pm the night before and on a water only diet so as not to inflate their weight.

It wasn’t quite the assault to the senses we were expecting, a little bit stinky (‘the smell of money’s we’re told) and lots of weaners bawling. The veteran  cattlemen who conducted the (hugely informative) tour assured us that the bellowing didn’t mean the cattle were in pain- just that they were missing their mums……gulp.

The auctions themselves were so quick.  With 5000 cattle to sell they aimed for no more than a 50 second auction per lot. The auctioneers stood on long walkways  above pens and literally ran from pen to pen. Even after an hour or so none of us managed to master auction speak other than the final clap of hands that clearly meant the deal was sealed.

The stockyards run like a well oiled machine with stock being ferried from sale pens to weigh bridge (you buy a cow by the kilo so you don’t know exactly what you’ve paid until all cattle in the lot are weighed (the best price we saw was for a group of Angus which was 6.20/kg. Most went for round the $5/kg mark.  Most were heading to feedlots after purchase to be fattened up for re-sale.

Hot, dusty and smelling a bit like bovines ourselves we headed for an air conditioned lunch and a soak in the caravan park pool before a hearty pub dinner.