FROM THE DESK OF Roland Rocchiccioli – March 21, 2019

“Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays, these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”

YOU could be forgiven for scratching your collective heads in puzzlement at the seeming riddle. Believe it or not, it is the unofficial international oath of the bygone postman. What the postal service was is so laughable by comparison, one could write it as a fairy story. You know the sort of thing:

‘Once upon a time, in a far-away land, the people used to post their letters today, and, for the most part, they were delivered tomorrow, or at the latest, the following day. The postman arrived at approximately the same time every day, and as he dropped your letters into the box, he blew his shining, silver whistle to let you know there was a delivery. It was the most superb service and everyone relied upon it, and sang its praises. Everyone in the land was happy. Then one day a wicked fairy took control of the much-loved institution. An impossible darkness descended upon the postal service, and everyone was distressed. Try as they did, the people could not reverse the evil spell.’ You don’t need me to tell you the rest of the story!

I have all but forsaken Australia Post. The service is so abysmal, and no matter how often one writes and rants to those in authority, nothing halts the creeping decay which has enveloped this important, and once reliable, institution. It is so erratic it is impossible to post cards and letters to arrive on a specific date. I have all but stopped writing letters. You see, I am so old fashioned, I use a fountain pen with a medium broad nib, and have personalised, watermarked stationery. I suspect Australia Post would prefer we stopped sending slow-mail and used only their parcel post facilities. Incredulously, I discovered a parcel, properly wrapped in brown paper but not despatched in one of their over-priced range of plastic envelopes, attracts a greater cost. It is outrageous and a blatant grab at cash!

For Christmas, 2018, I posted forty-five cards on Monday, 17 December, ridiculously trusting they would be delivered by Friday the 21st, or at the latest, Saturday, the 22nd. Stupidly, I assumed there would be, as in times past, a scheduled delivery on the Saturday immediate to Christmas. Consequently, none of the cards arrived on time – not even to the house opposite, or a couple streets away. They arrived December 27th or 28th, since there were no deliveries on the first three days of the week. In Western Australia it was early January, regardless of a priority sticker. As compensation Australia Post generously sent me a book of ten stamps!

Once, all mail was sorted by the end of the rostered day, regardless. With a managerial crack-down on overtime, letters not sorted during working hours are left overnight. It well may be, and I have this from the horse’s mouth, your letter may languish at the bottom of the pile for several days – until the container is emptied, finally.

An Express Post parcel sent from South Melbourne on Tuesday, 5 March, 2019, arrived on Friday 8th. I was informed, dismissively, it went to the wrong sorting facility. An Australia Post letter of reply to one of my complaints was post-marked 28 February 2019 and arrived in Ballarat on March 5th. I think it came via Kalgoorlie.

I am reliably informed, Express Post deliveries to the Mickleham Quarantine Centre are problematic. The driveway is too long, and its condition poses an occupational health and safety problem for the driver. Everyone wants a safe working environment, but a driveway that is too long, and too bumpy, does seem rather a paltry excuse for exclusion, a sore backside notwithstanding.

If you want to be reminded of the postal days of yore, go to YouTube and look at: ‘1936 Night Mail – abstract – poem by English poet W. H. Auden.’ It will stir an ancient memory.

Roland can be heard every Monday morning – 10.30 – on radio 3BA. You can send him an email via [email protected] and old-fashioned letters can be posted care of the Ballarat Times to 806 Sturt Street, Ballarat, 3350.