Twelftree Reserve

Twelftree Reserve is like a desert with an oil rig or cattle station. There’s a wide expanse of blankness and a dot of a structure where most of the population gathers together.
Of course, the similarity ends there. And, to an extent, it doesn’t perfectly begin there either. The little playground has seen a lot of traffic, I’m sure, but all my visits to Twelftree have shown all the reserve’s patrons to frequent the desert or, in this case, the grassland.
The playground isn’t bad, but I much prefer the expanse. It’s big and long (which means I can find a spot to myself) and the trees provide plenty of shade (which means I can stay there for more than ten minutes).

I tell you what, since I have been Unilocaling I have been doing more reminiscing over my old haunts and what has made me the super huge, baby faced ninja-​samurai that I am today.
Twelftree Reserve, in the back streets of College Park (a real rough ghetto where homies drive Merc’s and Beemers), was where I would spend countless hours playing kick to kick with my mate Jimbo, shooting hoops, and playing on the spinning top thingy… that last one was more me than Jimbo.
The reserve has a bit of everything, play equipment, basket ball mini-​court, picnic tables (all under dense leaf coverage) and a nice sized area to dob the footy to your mate for hours on end until you can’t walk. I guess I have my answer now as to why my knees are comparable to an 80 year olds!