Growing up, the beginning of each Australian summer marked the time for road trips with my family. Dad would fish out the Melway Map, stack the car boot with cardboard fruit boxes holding aluminium foil packets, and we would set off in the heat across the Victoria/New South Wales border, only stopping for public restrooms or parks that housed free barbecues. The stainlesssteel hot plate would heat up glittering pouches full of Sri Lankan rice and curry. All the while, I’d envy the neighbouring scent of sausages crisping up.
Public parks in suburbia provide a safe haven for migrant
