Granny by Pushi around in Australia - Hermine Stampa-Rabe - ebook

Granny by Pushi around in Australia ebook

Hermine Stampa-Rabe



10.01.2014 hope to come by bicycle across the hell hot Nullarbor – through the Marry River Valley – along the Great Ocean Road – north to the Murray River – east to Yass – north in inland west of the mountains – Brisbane – further north in inland to Rockhampton – in the near of the Coast Line north to Townsville – west to the Stuart Highway – north to Darwin – Cockatoo Valley – crocodile feading - Stuart Highway south – Devil’s Marbles – King’s Canyon – Alice Springs - Stuart Highway south – up to the Nullarbor – Perth

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Granny (75) by Puschi around in Australia

Hermine Stampa-Rabe

1. Ebook-Edition

I tried to translate it by myself. Please excuse me my mistakes.


Granny by Pushi around in Australia
Hermine Stampa-Rabe
published by: epubli GmbH, Berlin,
Copyright: © 2014 Hermine Stampa-Rabe
ISBN 978-3-8442-8463-8

Cover: Gudrun Meisiek, Lliria, Spanien

Layout: Hermine Stampa-Rabe

Layout für Ebook: Dagmar R. Rehberg, Borgstedt

Text Copyright © 2013 Hermine Stampa-Rabe

Email: [email protected]

Tel.: 0049-431-735565


Australien(out of: Das neue große farbige Lexikon von Bassermann, ISBN 3-8094-0002-5)

Addition to the mainland smallest continent to the S. hemisphere btw Ind. U. silent ocean comprises the islands lying on the common base , which v. - Tasmania in the SO is the largest. The only less-structured in its coastal mainland has an area v. 7.68 million square kilometers in an east-west extent of 4100 km v. . In the north of Carpentaria golf grips 700 km deep into the country and in the south the Great Austr. Bay and the NO Coast is preceded by the Great Barrier Reef. A. is a flat , 400 m high on average tableland, whose edges are usually bent. In W, the large trunk area of the West Austr expands. Panel with island mountains and sand and gravel deserts busy after means -A. from, the SO is best. from the deep basin of the Murray-Darling, which collects the water from the largest part of the fold mountain range that runs along the entire O-coast and is dissected by faults. In the Alps in Austr SO it reaches 2234 m (Mt Kosciusko). 60% of the area As are without outlet, so that collect only occasionally flying in the interior waters in salt pans. Some artes. Pools reduce water poverty of the country in whose far inside there is a hot and dry desert climate, in the north it is trop - hot, in SO subtrop. – warm moderate with uniform rainfall. All shows the strong climate fluctuations and heatwaves. The orig. flora (eg Eucalyptus, Bottle & Grass Tree) and fauna (kangaroo, koala, platypus, echidna, emu, lyre tail, parrot species) have an independent development after the secession as (with Tasmania, New Zealand and New Guinea) v. the land mass of the big old S-continent "Gondwanaland" out the o. in the later Cretaceous period in the early Tertiary and was the O-plaice isolated. Through a post-Pleistocene. Sea level rise were separated and Tasmania New Guinea, New Zealand.

Commonwealth of Australia, amtl. The Commonwealth of Australia, the Australasian. Continent, and the islands includes Tasmania with 7,686,848 square kilometers. Population: The Ew. are mostly British and ir Ethnicity, Indigenous Australians and mixed race, Asian. State Language: Engl Hptst. Canberra, which creates its own district in addition to the six states of New South Wales, Queensland, South Australia, Tasmania, Vicoria, Western Australia and Northern Territory. Head of state since 1952 Kg Elizabeth II, represented by a Governor General. The constitutional political. Bonds of parlamentar. But monarchy in Britain are only slight. Agriculture and mining are the basic sectors of the economy, but the industry production represents the gross national product. Agriculture esp. in the SO and SW z.T. with artificial. Irrigation, wheat, oats, barley, corn, cotton, rice, sugarcane, fruit and S-fruits. More extensive is the livestock (sheep, cattle). Australia is the largest growers worldwide. In addition, a lot of meat is exported. The mining industry uses rich deposits of gold, silver, copper, uranium, lead, iron, manganese and stone and brown coal , increasingly, oil and gas is developed.


Being three months home after my departure from Australia a postal employee rings the bell in Kiel. My three big parcels arrive! I am full exited and open them without the parcel with my trailer. In them I find the little, old and scrubbed mobile phone of Matthew’s friend Sony from Darwin and the long rope of Barry from Cullen Bay against snakes. I take deep breath with emotion. Tears out of gratitude drop down my cheeks.

My whole, great adventure Australia rises in front of my inner eyes. This I would write now onto paper and you, my readers, shall share it. I invite you, to join me by reading. You will see the peace, the heat, the cold, the country, the animals and above all the absolutely kind and helpful people of Australia. A big adventure waits for you.


Departure from Hamburg-Fuhlsbüttel via London Heathrow in England to Sydney in Australia.


In Sydney overtook me the first shock: There I waited for my boxed bicycle. But it did not come with this airplane. I will be assured that it will be forwarded to me in Perth in the hostel when it arrives.

Delayed flight to Perth. There informed me a student on the bus from the airport during the tour into the city center about, that I can not buy me here in Perth a SIM Cart, because it applies only to the city and the surrounding countryside. He helps me to get to my hostel. There I am booked for a long time and get a lower bed in a four-bedroom. The other three girls are very nice.

In the evening I walk into the city at Christmas lights. Perth is situated on the Swan River. There is a promenade on the shore and separately along a bicycle lane.

The next day I buy a SIM Cart at Telstra, because only this works throughout Australia. Likewise, I get there a WIFI for my little laptop that will work for a whole year. Against the intense rays of the sun I get in the pharmacy the usual zinc ointment. For the nose, there is a zinc albums pen.

I am waiting eagerly for my bicyle. In a bicycle shop the young man searches in the Internet the Sydney airport and finds out that the bicycle has arrived and this evening will be delivered in the hostel.

Here it begins the big sort of my goods brought with me. What do I need and what I will not miss? The stove and the large black ink cartridge remains at home. A scale is available in the hostel for large pieces of luggage.

In our room is new a young woman from Swisserland. The next day she comes back in the evening from a visit to friends and tells me excitedly that in front of Perth on the island Rottnest Iceland a man's cut off head was found on the beach.. This message puts me in a frenzy. I am afraid to start with my slow bicycle. Can I take the train and drive from Perth to Adelaide to cycle further?

At the tourist information I get the message that the train is already fully booked. One week later first the next train goes. No, as long I do not want to stay in Perth. I want to go.

My daughter Gudrun calms me down and says that the police is already looking for this man and he is long gone.

In fact, my bicycle is delivered in the hostel. In the bicycle shop the young man is eager to see my bicycle. I imagine it there and buy me also the same time in this shop new bicycle shoes for clip pedals and gel gloves. Then I trimmed my luggage from 51 kg to 31 kg, I drive off.

Final, I go on!

10.01.2013: Perth – Mandurah: 75 km

When I crawl at 5 am from the bed, I carry my panniers completely quietly from the room and down on the inner court of the Youth Hostel. After my muesli breakfast I check out at the reception and load my bicycle. But who takes a photo of me when starting, if none is here? Completely down I push the bicycle off the yard. Oh, which happy adding! A motorcyclist drives on the yard and takes my start from the Youth Hostel by video.

And then it goes through the nearly sleeping Perth by radiating blue morning sky! Perth is a bead of a city. Here the hecticness of the many other cities does not prevail over day. Here it pleases me. Also because of the long and large bank promenade of the broad Swan River, where everyone can take a beautifull walk or ride its bicycle.

With the left-hand traffic I do not have difficulties. The drivers do not honk. I hope for their compassion. With sunshine and 23 ° C I cycle above the Swan River on the Freemantle Highway out of the city. In order to photograph, I would have to stop on the road. I do not dare that, however, in order not to bring the drivers in conflict.

Thus I cycle along on the highway towards the south. At 11 am provokes me the first large gas station, in which I buy a small can of Sprite. Sprite belongs to my large bicycle tours. This cold and wonderful sweet liquid makes me happy. A cockerel salad forms my firm meal.

Outside stand ICE containers. I would like to carry these ice cubes gladly forward in my cool box. They would dissolve slowly. In this way I would have always cool drinking water. The panniers are however heavy with their 4 kg too. The gas station-waiter gives me the hint to drive and buy me a water sack at the camping and fishing road shop in the next place, by whose large opening I can put the cubes in it. I find it also. But the water bags have also a much too close opening.

Thus I decide for a small 3 l cool box with firm screw-type cap and drinking valve and leave there my 10 l cool box for the nice shop assistant. Therefore I receive the cool-box $10 more cheaply. The next problem follows: How do I fasten this round, oblong equipment together with my tent on my porter? All my cooled water from my small drinking bottles and the 2 l water sack I poure in it. Beautifully firmly screwed on, I hope it will be close. First I place it upright behind my saddle and behind it crosswise against sliding down the tent.

Works, presses however in the back at my bottom at my extended spinal column. I must sit far in front on the saddle. No, that can not be done. I am thinking: If this container is firmly screwed on, no water might actually withdraw and therefore it can lay down.

If something water nevertheless withdraws, it drips only on waterproof local clear packing ashes. Now I sit again correctly on the saddle, in order to move freely and merrily the pedals.

Here I cycle for a short time on a cycle track or the side strip of the highway. If a large truck drives past at me, all this goes well.

On the caravan park of Mandurah I receive a shady grass field and set up the tent for the first time. It takes long time. That is thus capable of improvement. But why shall I actually hurry? I am nevertheless not on the escape! Evening temperature: 27 ° C.

I, the thirsty camel

11.01.2013: Mandurah – Bunbury: 105 km

At the night it storms enormously. Fortunately my tent stands protected behind a high wall. In the night drive the cars, which are standing beside my tent, at different times away. From sleeping I can not speak. At midnight the storm suddenly falls asleep, and against morning isolated small fair waether clouds swim such as cotton wool balls in the blue sky.

My thermometer shows 26 ° C. In the high tree beside me several black-and-white magpies pipe. Before the entrance of my tent more highly and closely shrubs grow. If I had had fear, I could not have slept, because therein spiders, perhaps also poisonous, surely have woven its nets. But those were not interested in me. And a snake had also no longing to creep to me in the tent.

Tiredly I start at 7.30 am. Two different highways are to me after Bunbury at the disposal. The man from the bicycle shop in Perth advised me to take the coastal highway. That I do, can also shoot some photos.

After a long distance the whole traffic is led on the new highway, which goes parallel to the old coastal highway. With water muesli in the belly and hardly slept, I roll so slowly with head wind forward. It cools me down. My thermometer shows 27 ° C.

When I recover in a roadhouse, a woman tells me that one week ago here still prevailed 45 ° C. We will soon again have those. A heat wave always follows a cooling. Well, there is approaching some for me still in such a way.

During my next respite the today’s hard bicycle route does not go out of my head. Tomorrow my distance leads me through a low mountain range. In addition with my current achievement I am not able to do it. That I must keep clear before my eyes. But how can I come through it to reach Albany?

Some years ago I read the travel blog of an young English journalist, who wanted to cycle from Sydney around Australia. When he drove here from Bunbury to Albany through this very high-wavy low mountain range, he fell so hard that he had to lie several months in the hospital. And if this man did not create it, then I can create it as a small woman less than ever.

I remember the lady of the Perth tourist information after 5 pm, whose business card is in my wallet. Thus I keep simple, get out my mobile phone on a crossing and call her. From her I receive the message that a course drives from Bunbury through this mountain landscape until Albany. This connection I still will book in the evening. I am completely relieved and look forward to the course trip. With the cars, which populate the highways, the gruesome question goes again and again through my head: Will sit in one of these cars the head cutter?

Since I reach only at 6.20 pm the station Bunbury, there it is already closed. As I come to the caravan park, there it is also already closed. Fortunately still another woman stands in her yellow protective clothing on the yard, which helps me. She finds a telephone receiver at the entrance door including telephone number and hands me the listener. The lady at the other end wants to come directly. She does also. And because I have only a small person tent, I receive a lawn for $20. I would have paid that gladly also in Mandurah, but unfortunately I had for the primitive caravan place to pay $35! This neck cutter!

Here stands a great deal and many larger tents. None person answeres my greeting. It storms. It is not so simple at all to set up the tent. After my luggage also lies in it I attach still my bicycle at the railing before my tent.

Again back in my tent I make it cosy for me in the darkness. But in my small down sleeping bag me freeze the naked feet. I set up my tent against the wind, so that the cold wind whistles from the rear by the fly net. So I can not sleep. There I remember the cool bag, which is in my luggage. This I get out and invert it over the basing of my sleeping bag and sleep happy and contently.

By bus through the low mountain range

12.01.2013: Bunbury – Albany (bus): 7 km

Outside there are pleasant 26 ° C. I slept excellently. At 8.30 am I should be at the boss of the caravan park; because she wants to announce my railway trip by telephone. By then I lod my accumulator and write on my notebook. I also would like to send still clothes ahead at the post office.

Punctually I stand at the boss on the mat. After several attempts she creates it. But today on Sunday no railway drives, instead a long haul bus. That is totally no matter to me, main thing, it carries forward my bicycle.

With my full loaded bicycle I leave my sleeping place. After approximately 200 m a small dead alligator lies beside the cycle track. Well, actually I do not take corpses in my camera with me home. But I would like to carry an alligator forward, which represents a fright ghost here in large size. It is approximately 35 cm long and is drained from the heat of the last days.

Oh yes, a dead kangaroo is also on the road. That is perhaps a giant animal! Since it lies on the back, I see that it is a male. Thus a baby can not live there more in the belly. But a collision with such a large kangaroo can have deadly consequences! Even if it would give bears here, it would have been soon eaten up. But which animal is to destroy this monster by eating up?

The sun shines by 27 ° C, when I find the station and buy me there my ticket for the long haul bus who is already standing there. And because I am the first passenger, I may select for me a place. The kind bus driver – here captain called – askes me for my homeland. When he hears that I am from Germany, he radiates over the whole face and tells me that he already drove in Germany with his bicycle on the cycle track of the whole Midland Canal and far until Holland to the English Channel. He is still completely enthusiastic of it! Germany is very beautiful, he tells me out of deepest soul.

And then the full bus drives off. First I am surprised at the low landscape. Reciprocally many wine plantations lie here. Here the clusters mature in the hot sunshine. But then it becomes hilly. The landscape forces me off large respect. I am lucky that I am not by bicycle on this road. The highway leads two-lane without side strips by ochraceous sand, framed from enormous eucalyptus trees. A beautiful sight! The sun penetrates with its jets through the sheet crowns and makes every thing beautiful. Fascinated I hypnotize the landscape. How gladly I would have rushed here along with my racing bicycle! Thus I do now only in thoughts. Who has a heavy marathon before himself like that of Paris – Brest – Paris? He would find here the best and most pleasant training distance. Because only very little motor traffic prevails here. And the warmth is guaranteed.

The bus holds in the places, in which I wanted to sleep on caravan parks. Rather far in the proximity of the south coast already driving past, I constitute left hand a group of kangaroos with babies. Somewhat very much fallow dear continues to stand on a large meadow. Since there are so many animals, it only can concern a farm. And some more far black alpakkas eat on the pasture.

Perhaps one hour later lies a dead kangaroo beside the road. In the place Denmark it is unusually cold. The warmth or heat is more pleasant to me. Now our bus rolls the last 53 km to Albany. This place is rather right at the bottom because of the coast of a bay. A mountain range is pre-aged to it, which helds the surf from the South Pole. The water is covered with white crests and looks unpleasantly grey. The sky is cloudly. It makes the appearance, as if it still wants also to rain to all accident.

I stand as the latest all alone before the bus terminal. And where do I find a bed here? No humans are to be seen. That is understandably. With this cold weather (for Australia) from 20 ° C I also would not have gone to more out of the house. Thus I look around. The houses were built graduated like in Italy one above the other as to the tendency. And up in the first intersection roads “Backpacker” stands in large type characters at one of these houses. That is exactly what I need today. With this cold weather I sleep in the tent? No, not!

But how can I come up there? I look around. Cars drive down far left. Yes, there I would like to drive up the mountain. I find the name “Backpackers” above also at a house. Two young people sit there, which describe me the way to the entrance. They sleep also therein.

The boss, his wife and a German, young employee are urgently advised me here and just also another young man not to cycle with the bicycle through the 45 ° C hot Nullarbor. That is simply not for bearing! There I will die in the heat!

The Nullarbor seems to be probably a preliminary stage of hell. Differently I can not present it to me. What can I do now? As a precaution I book myself a second night in order to consider me exactly everything in peace. Here that begins for me the wild tenting in the free country. The adventure signs are already coming in a distance!

By road train through the scorching Nullarbor

13.01.2013: Albany – Nullarbor (bicycle and road train): 7 km

I wish to move on. Soon I stand with my panniers outside and would like to fasten them. There two young men again in the conscience are talking to me not to accomplish the trip by bicycle in this ape heat. I smile at them and explain to them that 85% of mankind have continuously fear. Those are normal humans. To the remaining 15% I belong. The here present ones and inside the sittings are all soft eggs (included the Backpacker leader, what I do not say however). They disappear insulting.

I start with sunshine and blue sky. The cloud cover from yesterday took off up to small fleecy clouds. The director of the Backpacker hotel looks for me outside in order to photograph me with my start. I also give him my camera and receive on this way a starting photo.

It goes off and always easily uphill. But it cycles completely pleasantly. Soon Albany lies behind me right at the bottom. With a funny feeling due to the dangerous Nullarbor crossing I roll towards the east, always considering, how I can solve this large problem. After 7,14 km the highway divides. My distance continues to lead right hand towards the east. To my bright joy here a roadhouse stands. That smiles at me correctly pleadingly to enter.

I can not resist the feeling to drink here a bottle with cold Sprite, place my full loaded bicycle right beside the entrance, climb the stages and enter a marvellously cool interior of full shelves with treats.

Behind that the owner is dispatching a straight guest, who stands for bar. And against the bus distance from yesterday what happens to me after going away from Albany in the first roadhouse, is still nothing at all. When I tell my project to the landlord, he takes me also into a different room of his roadhouse and shows me completely proudly his recumbent bicycle, a couch bicycle, at which still in the back are the two bars with the orange triangle flags.

With this bicycle and a trailer behind it, then he tells me completely proudly, he has cycled three years ago nearly over completely around Australia. I am flabbergasted and totally fascinated by him and his bicycle! But he is a large, strong, broad-shouldered man with very much strength, actually the opposite of me.

And then he also warns me completely urgently to ride with that amount of water, which I transport with me, not through the Nullarbor. At least I need in addition still two water bags to 5 litres each, which I have to buy and to fasten on my bicycle in Esperance in the camping and fishing shop at the road. That it is impossible for my conditions, I do not tell him, but say that I will make it.

In thoughts I am despairing totally. Why isn’t my dream to become true? What for a hell inserted the nature here for the bicycle drivers, who must cycle towards the east, in order to be able starting from Ceduna further on?

While I am sitting and thinking about my problem, I am looking through the window outside and an considering, how I can come around this here existing evil, then I will cycle just to Norsemann and think, in order to look there for truck driver, who carries me forward with my bicycle trough the hell of Australia. I send prayers above after “to my large friend in heaven”. Perhaps it helps me, yes.

And while I look through the windows to the washers with the routine on the outside of the square, I see driving cars there but in fact a great red road train which stops. Oh, I think, his two trailers are securely sealed, so that there can be nothing more come in it. But I still want to ask.

With new courage I thus go outside to the men of this large spectre of all bicycle drivers and ask whether they can carry me forward with my small, full loaded bicycle, which stands there at the wall, in order to save me from certain death by dying of thirst in the Nullarbor.

They smile mild at me, look at me from top to bottom and then at my small full loaded bicycle. But nobody says something. Well, as fast I give not up, remain at them sticking and ask still twice. Therupon I am smiled at and they nod with the head “yes”!

Now I am saved and want to push directly my bicycle here. No, it shall stay there; because before they still want to shower, refuel and have breakfast here. I am to wait. That I do and ask to be allowed to pay their breakfast at least as thank you. No, I may not do that. Thus I remain sitting beside their table and do not leave them out of my eyes.

And then it is so far. All go outside. The one road train driver shows where my bicycle on the other side must be pushed in. I will get it fast and bring it with his help with my saddle inside it. This left is located under the first large trailer. Then I am in the cab on top of the upper bed.

The second road train driver puts for sleeping on the lower bed and covers themselves with a thin, dark cover totally, so that I can look from above to outside. On the passenger seat a passenger rides along, whose frozen sardines are transported in the back into the trailers. He is a fisherman from Perth.

In the environment of Esperance still many further crates of frozen sardines of this fisherman are pushed in the first trailer, until this is completely full. And the road train continues to go to still another place, where further large crates are loaded with frozen sardines into the second trailer, until also this is filled. There we receive something to drink and eat cookies.

Here the interesting fisherman stays and drives with his here already waiting small truck back to Perth. In this way the seat beside the road train driver is free for me. Now the possibility is offered to me of seeing the environment. From the upper bed only reciprocally the road or the sand was to be seen to the lip of the engine. An incredible strong feeling here in front!

With darkness we reach Norsemann, turn eastward on the Eyre Highway and roll at coolly night temperature of 20 ° C towards the east by the night. First I am so fascinated of it that I remain sitting down on the passenger seat and enjoy the night drive, as if I would sit straight on my small racing bicycle during a marathon. It is imply great!

But at 12 pm I begin to shiver and become tired. Thus I rise highly to the upper bed and put to sleep.



Nullarbor – Ceduna (road train): 0 km

In the morning I wake up from a whistle and climb down. I look around me. We stand on the flat and tree-free Nullarbor on a stopping point in (in the taiga). It is said to me that I am to look for a toilet. That means to crawl away behind low shrubs. We are already in SOUTHAUSTRALIA. We passed the border at the night.

The two road train drivers are in the middle age. The first is married, the second not. The second drives in his spare time with his large motorcycle including a trailer through the country, sets up his tent and enjoys his spare time.

He is the owner of lots of sheep and cows. They are all the time alone in the fields. To control them he does not drive by quad, but is riding his horse.

We speak over cultivation of grain in Australia. I tell him, that our German farmers bring in the spring the dung and liquid manure from the cows on the fields, so that then the grain grows better and faster. The cows are along the wintertime in a stable. There he means that his cows are not located in the stable, but run all outside freely around.

As long they are calves, their horns are cut off. The cows are never milked. The calves stay a half year with the mother cow and suckle the milk from the udder. Then they become separated from her and floated with their-same on another pasture. The cows here are all alone bred for steaks.

This road train driver wants to come once to Schleswig-Holstein to become shown from me, where I have lived, for example, the island Amrum.

The sun shines from the blue sky. Certainly it becomes hot again. We drive on. In Ceduna I step out; because there it is the end of the Nullarbor. And the road train must be refuelled, washed and supplied with oil. I say thank you to these two completely noble men.

The caravan park is in the proximity. Still another further photo, signs – then I leave this for me cosy transition home. For me it is like the parting of a whole period of life time; again back from the sky onto the ground of the facts.

My tent, which I set up a while ago during heavy desert storm with my totally tired head, lays down on the side despite the heavy panniers in it. I nothing then quickly out of the tent, draw all tent pegs out and be astonished, why my tent does not only put itself on the side despite the heavy articles therein, but turns also in another direction.

Thus I must set up it with the pointed posteriors against the storm. Thus I empty the tent. But the same time I step with one foot onto the base, so that this shall not fly away completely; because it is completely loosely under it.

While I am now pushing my panniers with the left hand to the side, I hold the tent with the right hand above. But how can I fasten it in addition with a tent peg? I do not have a third hand. There comes a radiating smiling man to meet me, who offers his assistance to me. He belongs to the caravan, which became set up recently at some distance of me and prepared camping-efficiently. The man and his wife directly had welcomed me waving and smiling, when they arrived. The friendly man gets equal his hammer, in order to be able to knock the tent pegs into the hard earth.

Now finally it stands, however it is still pressed somewhat to the side from the storm. That must hold. Thus I distribute the bags again in a row next to each other at the internal left side. Finally also my brain again functions.

But the tent bends itself still in the strong and very warm wind. With my bags and later me myself it will not fly away.

15.01.2013: Ceduna – Quorn (bicycle and pickup): 66 km

At the night cars, which drive from the place, awake me. I could not fall asleep again. Around 5.00 am I pack my wash items and go into the sanitary house. A family with their eight little kids sits already by having breakfast. All smile at me and greet back. Now I begin to pack. With my tired head it does not run so fast. But at 7.30 am I roll by 23 ° C off from the place. Naturally I distributed still my zinc ointment on nose and cheeks.

I have fun by cycling. Unfortunately, the warmth changes in completely short time into heat. Hot air confronts me. In spite of my good and thin clothes it becomes more and more disagreeable. I drink like a hole. The street is wavy, but in a very good state. Only very few cars drive. Most road users exist of gigantic road trains. However, these do all one big curve around me. And then it is to me as if sweltering heat confronts me. My speedometer gives up his mind in this heat. I need soon a new one.

Thus I took a rest in shorter and shorter distances beside the highway and go under a short mally tree in its small shade.

And when I am so about 20 km before Wirrula, I go with my bicycle oncemore in the shade of a tree. The hot wild storm pushes down my bicycle together with its heavy panniers. I have trouble to solve all and to lay it besides. Beseechingly I look at the past driving car drivers. But all wave only and drive on.

And when from my direction a car appears far behind in the curve, I hold unbelievingly up my thumb. And really the car stops and comes backward on my roadway direction Wirrula back to me. The man asks me whether I have fallen. From loud desperation, he can go on if I say the truth to him, I confirm it. Together we load the panniers and the bicycle behind on his car. I may take a seat in front beside him and receive an ice-cold coke. What a marvellous drink for an almost died of thirst! Finally, I also cool inside and around my stomach.

In his car is a satellite phone which he lays very much to me in my heart to purchase one here also, who knows who knows? Also a burglar alarm is to the left behind me on top beside the door, if he should come with his car in the outback to difficulties. He has made provision for everything.

Because he himself is on the move as a businessman to Port Augusta to begin tomorrow his work with businessmen and workers in the outback, he asks me whether he can take me up to there; because along the distance from here up to there I can not go by bicycle on account of the high heat. I accept.

Before Port Augusta he stops at a roadhouse and invites me to a cold drink and a sandwich after my taste. Then my brain also functions better again. And when he finds out after my itinerary my route from Port Augusta and I tell him that I like to cycle from Wilmington to Renmark in the Murray Riverland, he resolves immediately to bring me shortly on a caravan park before Wilmington.

Thus we go from Port Augusta and see on a railroad route a 3 km long freight train. At the beginning and end are four railroad engines to pull it forward. Herewith diminished coal is brought to the burning at Port Augusta. As so I understood it.

During the journey my male angel explains me the sheep farming and the scenery by trough we are just going. About this I know nothing. He himself owns 5,000 sheep after which he does not need to look. His sheep become clipped all two months. The short wool is used to the climate insulation in house constructions and roof structures. After six months the lambs become separated from the mothers. The sheep eat the dry grass, however, in the morning and in the evening they have water to drink.

Here grow the small salty bushes, Saltbush called, which they eat with pleasure. The sheep are bred as meat suppliers. These sheep which eat the salty bushes and Bluebush deliver an especially well tasting meat. If black lambs are born, they are not to be used. Black wool is not welcome. It concerns with most merino sheep. This wool must be always white.

It is difficult to receive the sheep always healthy. A big illness place is under the tail. Here they are especially treated. If it becomes too hot to the sheep and enough bushes are available, they creep under it, anyway the lambs. If it is very hot over the day and at night frost rules, unfortunately lambs die. There are up to 5,000 sheep of one single owner. For so many animals nobody can build a solar protection.

We drive into the Flinders Range, a regional very nice, mountainous area. He briefly stops in Quorn and shows me how I can come along tomorrow without having to cycle over high mountains out of this further after 48 km to Wilmington.

Then he turns back again and drives to the caravan park in Quorn where he also knows all people and these him. Quorn is a wonderful small place with two churches, hotels, a railway station and many houses from the early days. I am inspired and think to insert tomorrow one inspection day. Australia is a sheep country. Here every Sunday it is usual to roast sheep meat as festival food which is dished up with potatoes and vegetables.

In the Flinders Range it is mountainous with hilly country of grass and bushes. Here the sheep graze. Also kangaroos come and drink from the drinks for the sheep. I can see them. These are whole dark animals which live on top on the high mountains besides here. Because it is much colder there at night, they also have a thicker and longer coat of hair. Their ears are round, not sharp like those of the red and gray kangaroos.

This businessman, my male angel, owns a factory, in which the stone blocks from the mountains become broken in big or small little stones and pass away for the road construction. He tells me quite proudly that he has done $ 600 clear profits with the last horse running. He has put number 3 on the horse and has won.

From the registration of the local caravan park he brings me with all my belongings to a dreadful dry and sandy place where I should put up my tent. He still writes down for me his address with telephone number, if problems appear. Then I should call him. He will help me. Then I say thank you. And he goes to his hotel.

While I build up my tent, Gallahs, the pink-coloured cockatoos, float very much for a long time around the high and ancient trees which my rescuer calls "sugar-gum-trees". The normal, half-high trees have everywhere many sheets at the end of their branches. These are mallee-trees. They donate some shades.

Today now it has already been getting late. I sit in the space for mothers with kids. Here in it, unfortunately, it is also very hot. However, I do not dare to open the door because, otherwise, vermins come in.

Because my speedometer gave up his mind after 34.5 km, however, I saw at a sign how wide it was still to Wirrula. I drove 66 km.

16.01.2013: Rest day in Quorn: 0 km

At night it cools something. About myself in the air I hear the countless Gallahs shouting and flying.

During my today's rest day I allow to concern it quietly. Thus I walk in this small, old and pretty place. At the supermarket I make purchases. A young policeman stands beside me at the counter. I ask him in which area of Australia it feels chilly at the moment. There he smiles and says that it is hot everywhere. – Thus I have to cycle on!

At the railway station I talk to a woman who had emigrated here 23 years ago with her husband from England, after he had come to pension. They feel here very well and do not have the problems like the German emigrants: other money, other language, other weights and other traffic direction.

While I speak with the second woman who stands behind the bar, she shows me the advertisement for the "Pichi Richi train“, an old-timer railroad which drives here many tourists trough the Flinders Range in autumn. I knew from my yesterday's angel that this railroad journey is also a center of attraction because on half of the journey food is distributed.

And when she hears that I write about my bicycle tour a book she orders herself quite immediately a copy. She tells me how she does it if she must work in this scorching heat in her garden: to bind a humid, thin fleece towel before mouth and nose and one in the neck. Then I should drink as much that I must go lastingly to the toilet. But I can not drink as much during the bicycle riding. Then I can not bend me no more deeply enough over my bicycle by riding by racing handlebar.

To my relative, Hans in Melbourne, I write by email: „Hans, I stay at the moment in Quorn. And because I do not want to cycle on account of the scorching heat at night and also I became warned because then the home animals walk around or cross on the street, I would like to ask you where it is not as hellishly hot at the moment in Australia.“

As a result I receive by email this answer: „Here in Victoria we have only 22 ° C. The animals would be no danger for you. Everything friendly – Kangaroos, Echidnas, Wombats. Only for the cars they are dangerous. Hans.“ “If you come here, it is again also hot. 40+ tomorrow. Hans.“

Then I can start tomorrow my tour safely. Hopefully no Kangaroo or Emu jumps into my traversing bicycle.

17.01. 2013: Quorn – Wilmington: 41 km

When my alarm clock rings at 4.20 am, I get up. Outdoors it is still dark. I am surprised, why the noise of the flush resounds again in the toilet like an echo from outdoors. Yesterday my angel told me that the pink Gallahs copy noises. They are very much intelligent and can speak soon in captivity with right treatment. And outdoors they sit on a huge scale in the high trees. Maybe one sat on the roof of this sanitary arrangement? Why not? I am alone on the camping site.

Actually, I wanted to start in the darkness. My panniers stand ready to departure in the room. But a look to the glass door immediately lets me again forgotten this wish. In the room the light burns. Outdoors it is dark. And what do I see at my glass door? At it many big wing animals are floating around which might come in with pleasure. They have the size of hornets, but look gray. They try to prick themselves mutually with their sting of the abdomen. And there I should open the door?

No, this really does not go. They all would have come in. Thus I lie down on my sofa and wait for the time, until it is light outdoors. And with the brightness there disappear my undesirable onlookers.

Wonderfully orange the sky colours at the horizon. With the ready full loaded bicycle I start at 6.30 am in the quiet morning. I know my street where to go. Thus I leave this friendly place and cycle on a healthy tarred road in direction Wilmington.

Shortly after the sun comes about the horizon and dips everything in her beaming light. Before me spread to itself a flat and wildly covered area. Behind myself I leave the mountains of the Flinders Range. A dead kangaroo lies on the right edge of the road, it must have been started at night. It is not a male animal. Maybe one more young is in its bag?

However, the animal lies on the belly. And I may not turn it. What should I do with a young kangaroo baby? No, this really does not work. Thus I cycle further. The air feels with 26 ° C pleasantly chilly. But with the time the sun begins to fling her igneous glow against me. The today's distance to Wilmington should be only 40 km. And on this distance I would absolutely like to stand the heat.

Every now and then I cross a small deepening which belongs to a river which has dried up, however, now in this season. In the middle of the deepening of the street stands in each case a water level indicator with a water level to 2 m. If I look now to the right and to the left, I see big and old trees on both sides of the dry riverbed. It seems that in the subsoil water exist furthermore, because, otherwise, these earthy and gnarled big trees would have died long time ago. I cycle further on.

Flocks of sheep graze sometimes on the left, sometimes on the right. A flock stands on a plowed up field. What should and can they eat there, remains to me puzzling. Also horses graze on another pasture.

In front of me an other mountain chain has been based. Before it my desired purpose must lie, however, I can not discover it with the best will. A fox laces straight across the street. On the right side a kangaroo jumps in the thicker bushes. In order to take photos it is simply too fast away.

Now I cycle to the next killed Kangaroo. This has got a belonging beat. On this occasion, at first sight it is not to find out whether it concerns of a female or male animal. The intestine lie around everywhere. It looks ghastly. Who will take these dead animals away from the street or eat it up?

Then I put out a single big animal to the right hand ahead on a field. I suppose a kangaroo. No, it turns out that it is an emu. I take a photo of it and further roll on. The heat is still to be bear. Nevertheless, I soon must arrive!

Yes, the crossroad appears and with her the sign Wilmington. Tearing open my eyes after the sign for the caravan park, I cycle in the little town and follow the sign. But before I hold at a small businessman's store to be able to rest there maybe a little.

Outdoors already rule 42 ° C. Inside it feels chilly pleasantly. My eyes suck themselves firmly at a big piece of a water melon. I would like to eat that and can be given them with knife, fork and spoon. Behind the front door there is a board and two chairs.

Outdoors I read also the name to CAFE for this shop. Thus I sit down there and refresh myself in the marvellous fruit. One single poem!

Both dead kangaroos do not go out of my head and I ask the businessman: „Who gets them off the street, or will they go to seed there stinking and dry up?“

"No", he says. „Our birds and the fox do this in completely short time.“

The young salesclerk recommends me the Beautiful Valley Caravan Park. The other lies further in the wild interior. To pass away, no, I have no interest.

It does not last long up to my daily objective. The owner assigns to me kindly a big day room with three tennis tables and a television. Also my bicycle can come inside. Thus I do not need to build up my tent. In it I would be also roasted and everything in my panniers become roasted through. And the thermometer registers me in the room 38 ° C.

In my notebook I receive between my emails a tip how I can cool off in spite of the scorching heat: to hold my head under water and coat the nose thinly with vaseline from the outside and inside, then I shall buy from the drugstore correct water with salt and Nasal saline spray for the nasal mucous membranes.

But I am sometimes again as killed from the heat – even if five degrees less than outdoors – and lay me on the sofa which became opened out by the owner. When I awake again, I tear me together and plan to go to the drugstore to buy for me the nasal spray.

Because this caravan park lies, however, 1.5 km beyond the little town Wilmington and I am too decayed to go free of charge to the town, I enter the office and ask my landlord, who has a white pony as friend, for a drugstore.

„No, here is none, but tomorrow in Orrorroo. Make a handkerchief wet and place it around your neck. Here the small children are already educated for the protection of drying up against the heat so: The parents search small, round little stones for them, they boil them and give one of it to every child in the mouth where it must remain always. With it it is provided for the fact that new saliva is formed over and over again and does not dry up the oral mucosa. Brilliantly, right?“

How I should stand this scorching heat the whole months here, is mysterious to me. In addition, I also can not put back as wide distances during the day as I had planned for it. My bicycle tour becomes a letter with seven seals.

It is 4.00 pm. Here in the big day room in which I am quartered rule also already 40 ° C. I will see, how hot it is now outdoors. Outdoors there rules at the moment the same heat because some clouds have gathered and cover the sun. It is not real to the endurance!! This is why I collect myself a heart, goes to my caravan landlord and ask him: „Do you have for your guests no chill day room?“

„ No. “

„In my big room where I may sleep rule 45 ° C. I can not live there. Is here in this town a restaurant in which I can sit down up to the evening?“

„No, there is not a restaurant, only one hotel. Do you want to sleep there?“

„No, I am not rich. I will sleep in the big room if it has become chillier.“

„Come along with me. I bring you in a chill space.“

So I follow him to one of his small guest houses in which he brings me. Immediately he turns on the air conditioning. After a whole time there is the temperature of 33 ° C.

Montezumahits me

18.01.2013: Wilmington – Orroorroo: 54 km

Today oh yes, my speedometer functions again. It also does not stand the heat. Anyway it is not reasonable to cycle in 50 ° C with a high loaded, heavy bicycle by this scorching sun.

Suddenly Montezumas revenge meets me. And no toilet is far and wide! Which disaster! From sleeping the speech can not be at this night. The heat here amasses lets flow my sweat in streams. I look at this as a slimness cure and roll unilaterally to the other side. At 4.30 pm my alarm clock rings.

When I step outside, I am not astonished badly: Yesterday the cross of the south stood still clear at the black night sky. And today early? Clouds race along the sky. The weather has overturned, just as it was written by my friends in facebook. But I did not trust the peace. But it is right! To Orroorroo today I can cycle completely safely. There’s a gale blowing.

Again back in my accommodation, the horizon changes the colour in bright yellow. All packed and the bicycle with the panniers pushed out, I start.

Rain droplets moisten my red panniers. Therefore, I dress me in my pink wind blouse. If it should be still properly raining, the wind blouse would be enough; since there are 23 ° C. Everything would dry fast again from the storm.

Between the dark and brighter clouds which race along at the sky, appears light blue sky. Soon the sun will also look through them. But, nevertheless, I have problems with the storm. He presses from the right substantially against my panniers. From home I know that I do not become fallen if I go in possibly high speed. The street is good. It is not damaged by frost. It becomes brighter and brighter. But there is not a sunrise as usual on account of the quite thick cloud cover. At 6.30 am I start because only then it is getting light.

How long will I need for this day, if the storm gets me later still from the front? But I think positively and recite to me my biblical saying: Be not afraid. Since see, I am all days up with you till the worlds end.

Thus I step substantially in the pedals. In this time still no car goes. The street belongs to me only. It exists of very coarse material which became, however, already flat from the cars. On the way I insert a break and eat from my sweet biscuits and drink a lot of water. On this resting place many rose cockatoos are sitting in the trees and shriek. And I roll further.

When a hotel is announced at the roadside, announces itself to me the normal hunger. But what stands here as a hotel, can be called only a ruin. However, there is a door at which I can ring to buy something. I do this. But nobody opens it. Thus I look exactly through the grid door and see to the left a rose cockatoo sitting on an armchair armrest. Thus I take the remaining distance under the wheels.

Once the storm would have almost upset me with my bicycle. Luckily I could still come fast enough from the click pedals and jump off. Sand storms sweep in front of me over the street. Sheep graze sometimes on the left, sometimes on the right on the earthy fields.

And then I reach already after 50 instead of 56 km Orroorroo. Pleasantly! Quite at the beginning I find the caravan park there and am cleared up very in detail about my future distance guidance in the Riverland by the owner. She owns good maps and charts for her guests. She also gives me a mosquito spray with the help of which the bothering flies disappear. She leads me to the best place for my tent where it stands later in the shade.

On account of my sleeping lack I lie down in my tent and fall right away asleep. On the way back from the shower to my tent I see a caravan driver with his wife coming out of their car and smiling to me. They greet me immediately with the statement: „You are from Germany and cycle here in Australia. Would you like to come with us to our caravan? We would like to invite you to have warm dinner.“

„But I am quite full and stand in the pajama here. My eyes already close of tiredness. Many thanks for your invitation. Immediately I must go to bed to get up tomorrow very early and continue my ride.“

We still talk about my tour and his in England graduated two big walking tours, first from coast to coast crosswise and then from John O'Groats in Scotland to Land's End. He shows me his taut calves. Yes, he is a sport man. I congratulate him and say goodbye.

While I roll me just so nicely comfortably into my small sleeping-bag, outside it begins to rain. The storm has completely decreased. Tomorrow he also may do this please.

19.01.2013: Orroorro – Jamestown: 70 km

At 4.00 am in the morning it is cold in the tent and outdoors still even more. The weather has totally overturned. This is, because I sent the heat by email home. I know this already from former. Outdoors it is floor-dark. And because my panniers stand up ready packed in the tent without the washing bag, I lie down once again on my ear. Here it is getting light since 6.00 am.

To my joy I find out that the storm has decreased. Well for me. The sky has thinned out. Far away many smaller clouds swim darkly at the light blue firmament. All people still sleep.

When I leave the caravan park, a man comes calling behind me on the street. He holds his toothbrush still in the hand and asks me: „In which direction would you like to go?“

„To Jamestown“, I give to the answer.

„Yes, to there I also want to go with my caravan and will overtake you later.“

Smiling we say goodbye. Then I roll in the morning. It cycles well; since, finally, substantially I have got a good night's sleep.

Slowly there arises the wind which becomes apparent stronger and stronger to me and my bicycle. My street to Jamestown cuts through many wheat fields. Later I see on both sides earthy fields on which sheep graze. As soon as they note me, they race away.

Twice I insert a rest in the street, may not sit down, however, because to the side of the street there are a lot of ants. I had to ascertain this unpleasantly on my journey of Ceduna to Wirrula when I sat down simple-minded in the shade of a Mallee-Tree to rest. Nevertheless, there I had really sat down in an ant-hill! Well, this happens to me only once, I hope.

To the right hand before me a kangaroo hops along the fence, crosses the street and continues his escape from me in other jumps. Later I see it again on the right side. Further it can not make way on account of the fences on both sides of the big street. A fox soon laces in front of me over the street from the right to the left, later from the left to the right.

And completely a lot much later there lies a knockeded down and killed fox on the big street. Such a splendid, healthy animal! I am properly sorry for him, certainly because he could not further flee on account of the fences. Whether has he still to supply baby animals under construction? Who feeds them now?

After one more rest, because the storm strongly comes from the front, I interrupt my tour to Jamestown once again because on the right at an old house stands a sign "Winery". A man rises there from a pickup truck, lets down his ugly, gray spotted dog and opens the door. I hope to be able to eat here something. He shows me in, however, but he must work even outdoor of the house. He comes from Adelaide and has in the near his cows. I may sit down inside. This building is probably used only by men as a meeting place for parties I think.

I go further to the rear space. There stands an ancient piano and besides an entire percussion arrangement. I take a photo of everything and turn to the exit. In this manner I enter once again the first room which I have not perceived at all so properly with the entry.

Here stand four softy sofas and on a board witty, even made figures from metal canes. But what shoots „the bird“ and what allows me no more to wait for the landlord, but flee from here, this is besides the upper skull of a death's-head. Besides, the cut-off man's head of Rottnest Island occurs to me. No, this is too much for me! Outdoors I catch me my bicycle and flee.

At noon I reach the small town Jamestown. On the caravan park I receive a pitch for my tent which lies, however, still totally in the hot sunshine. If the sun has walked further around, I set up my tent in the evening; since I am very tired and long for my restful and deserving sleep. Five guinea fowls from Africa peck the vermin from the lawn which is just sprayed.

About 6.00 pm the sun has walked around and leaves enough shade on the very much soft and big lawn. Finally, I can set up my tent and go in it to bed. It is still warm. Therefore, I am only in my pajama.

20.01.2013: Jamestown – Burra: 73 km