Rarely do the characters of Neighbours seem to return from an excursion into the bush unscathed

Whether they feature real life characters, such as the outlaw Ned Kelly, or fictional heroes like the Man from Snowy River, Australians have taken the stories of the bush to their hearts.

Even the Little Battler, the farmer scraping a living out of poor soils in the face of government indifference, has become a national figure.

But it seems that most of the bush imagery is from the past. Ned Kelly died in the 19th century. The world of Banjo Paterson is long gone. Even the Little Battler is being bought out by corporate farming interests.

When the bush is portrayed in the present day, it seems like a very different place.

A good example is the Australian soap opera Neighbours. Rarely do the characters ever venture far from the Melbourne suburb where the long running series is set.

Nasty neighbours

But if anyone ever mentions a trip to the bush - look out. It's usually a death sentence to one of the characters - or at least the cue for some severe maiming.

Australian soap operas emphasise the dangers of the bush

Why is there this apparent fear of Australia's countryside? Could it be that the Australian public is scared of the great outdoors?

There's some truth in the view that the Australian countryside can be a dangerous place.

Less than two hours drive from Sydney lie the Blue Mountains, part of the Great Dividing Range that runs right down the east coast of the continent. High sandstone plateaus are cut by deep gorges, covered with thick eucalyptus forest.

Almost every summer someone goes for a walk in the Blue Mountains, takes a wrong turn and gets lost. If they're lucky, they might be found after several days of intense searching - but often they are not.

Mist descends over Sydney due to nearby bush fires

Bleak future

Perhaps the Australian wariness comes from a loss of contact with the countryside. Country towns across Australia are dying on their feet.

Better job prospects in the cities are luring away the young people. Banks, shops and other amenities are closing. Farming is no longer the attractive way of life it once was.

This was all brought home to me when I went to the small New South Wales town of Gulargambone. Before I left, many Australians expressed surprise that I was travelling all that way into the country to go somewhere as godforsaken as Gulargambone.

But the hospitality I received there lived up to its legendary billing. The farmer I was going to meet, John Giblin, completely refused to tell me where the nearest motel was, insisting instead that I stay with him and his wife.

When I arrived, late, they had a huge and delicious dinner waiting for me - as they did every evening I stayed with them.

The plight of the town was evident in the closed shop fronts, and John told me they had enormous problems recruiting doctors to set up practice in rural areas.

The traditional life of the Aborigines is also waning

She believed that this was an effort at fooling people into thinking it wasn't so bad living in the bush.

Lure of the beach

John and Vicky are an exception - we're told that three quarters of all Australians now live within 15 minutes of the coast.

It seems that the mythology of the centre has given way to that of the beach. The stockman is being replaced by the surfer.

But Australians still sing Waltzing Matilda with pride, and still romanticise the bush - even if hardly any of them want to go there.