Last week my contacts at Latrobe Valley Law Courts sent me a digital scan of one page of the Leongatha Public Library’s only copy of The Collected Works of William Wordsworth. They told me that prosecutors in the Erin Patterson trial were sure that this book, left anonymously on the steps of the courthouse with the page in question helpfully Post-it noted, would have allayed any lingering doubts the jury might have vis-à-vis a verdict, if it had not been ruled inadmissible as evidence. Living as she does within driving distance of the library, counsel would have argued, the defendant could easily have borrowed the book en route to or from one of the region’s many mushroom foraging sites and so could just as easily be the person responsible for making the following amendment, in red biro, to one of Wordsworth’s best loved stanzas:

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A flock of funky fungi filled
With amatoxins, which, if cooked,
Leave dinner guests completely f****d

Considering how much international coverage the Patterson trial is getting I should not have been surprised to find myself fielding enquiries from UK and US friends who are planning Aussie holidays. These people are asking me if, in addition to checking Australian rivers, surf and pools for crocodiles, sharks and spiders before diving into them, they should now also check Australian restaurant menus for mushrooms before making reservations. As long as you can tell your Shiitakes from your Slippery Jacks she’ll be apples, I tell them, in the same reassuring tone I use when explaining that when taking their children for a stroll around the Sydney Harbour foreshore they will be unlucky to meet more than two or three hunger-maddened dingoes.

But given that the combined output of Paul Hogan and Steve Irwin helped our tourism industry a lot more than have any of its cringe-inducing ad campaigns, the addition of one more species to the Deadly Australians catalogue is unlikely to diminish our appeal as a bucket-list destination. Indeed, there are particular tourist demographics – British backpackers and Japanese honeymooners spring immediately to mind – for whom the possibility of kicking that bucket while they’re here might add an irresistible frisson. Such thrill-seekers will no doubt be delighted to learn that as well as risking an encounter with the world’s most poisonous snake, spider or jellyfish in Australia, they can also risk ingesting amanita phalloides, the world’s most poisonous mushroom. Indeed, that possibility might be enough for them to add an entire state to their itinerary. Victoria, not conspicuously blessed with lethal life forms of any kind, and previously internationally famous only for its appalling weather and draconian Covid protocols, has always resented the fact that to attract any visitors at all it must host enormous, tax-payer-funded sports events. So its government is delighted to finally have discovered an attraction which it doesn’t have to subsidise, and I’m told Premier Jacinta Allan has already approved a planning application to turn 50 hectares of pristine Gippsland bushland into what is believed to be the world’s first fungi theme park. In addition to learning why the relentless freezing rain and mud which make Victoria such an unpleasant place for human beings to live is the ideal habitat for fungi and mould, visitors to Mushroom Mountain will be invited to contribute to the park’s fertiliser stocks at one of its environmentally responsible Portobelloos, before applying their newly acquired knowledge in the field. They will then have the choice of either taking the fruits of their own forage home to cook, or adding them to mushrooms others have collected. If the latter, they will be asked to sign a form indemnifying management against all medical claims, before sitting down at the park’s Breakfast for Champignons café and eating a Russian Roulomelette prepared by a qualified fugu chef. Survivors will then be presented with a T-shirt saying I’M AN AMANITA EATA and a death cap beanie. Book early to avoid disappointment and mention this column for a substantial discount.