Читать книгу Granny by Pushi around in Australia - Hermine Stampa-Rabe - Страница 7

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!