Camel drive in the mountains, Roar of the lion, Unleashed power

In the late afternoon, I pull myself up by Hermann’s mule’s saddle pommel. Gerda has offered to take us and the camels for a ride in the nearby mountains. Although I should actually be writing, or at least doing my daily documentation work, I spontaneously said yes. When else do you get the opportunity to ride horses in Lower Austria at the foot of the Wachau and drive camels into the mountains? “It could hardly get any more exotic? The crowning glory would be elephants, of course, but you don’t have them in Austria,” I laugh out loud at my own joke. “Well, if you want, I can introduce you to elephants,” Gerda replies with a smile. “Ha, ha, ha,” I burst out. That’s a good joke.” “No. Not a joke. If you want to see elephants, we can go there after riding.” “What do you mean? Ha, ha, ha. Excuse my laughter, but the idea of meeting elephants here in Austria is just too funny.” “My friend has a farm and two elephants. She grew up with an elephant when she was a little girl. If you like, I’ll call her right away. I’m sure she won’t mind if we visit her tonight,” she replies, ignoring my amusement. “You mean we have the chance to visit two elephants in a farmhouse tonight?” “Yes.” “Really big, live elephants?” “Yes.” “Of course I want to see them! Absolutely! We can’t miss out on that!” I shout enthusiastically but still a little incredulously. Sitting on the horse, Gerda pulls out her cell phone to arrange our meeting with the pachyderms. “She’ll be there,” she says moments later, spurring her horse on contentedly. I look at Tanja with widened eyes and great anticipation of what we are going to experience today. “So you don’t need to go to India or Africa to experience something absolutely extraordinary,” I say, also driving the mule.

“Please stay behind the camels. That way we can drive them up the mountain,” says Gerda. Listening to her commands, we follow the herd of thirteen camels. The desert animals are obviously happy about the excursion. Leaping and bounding, they charge ahead. Knowing their way, they gallop through the gate of the rubber factory and turn left immediately afterwards. Then it’s a steep climb up the mountain. The canopy of a dense forest arches over our heads and the dark green sucks us in. From time to time we catch sight of the shy mouflons and fallow deer that make their home here in the private forest. We now drive the humpbacked animals in front of us without haste along a well-maintained path. “We use the mountain to train them for the camel races. They are led up here at least once a day. This gives my camels the exercise they need and at the same time helps them get in shape,” Gerda explains. “Hop, hop, hop!”, we urge them on when they linger under a tree to nibble. Fascinated by the exotic sight of camels in a Western European mixed forest, we enjoy the sight of the powerful, well-groomed animals. There is no doubt that every one of Gerda’s four-legged family members has won the lottery. She has often taken in animals that were mistreated by their owners, who were suddenly fed up with them, didn’t look after them properly or couldn’t handle them. Each of the horses, camels, ostriches, llamas and whatever else there is on this exotic farm lives in paradise.(More info: www.kamelreiten.com)

Once on the ridge, the four-legged friends, which look strange in the landscape, are allowed to snack on the trees. Gerda, the other riders and we make sure that they stay together in a group and enjoy the lengthening shadows. “Okay, drive them back down!” Gerda shouts, whereupon we leave the clearing to follow the path that gets lost in the dark forest. “Hooray for home! Faster boys! Faster! There’s something to eat! Let me pass, you bore! I’m really hungry!” they seem to shout in confusion and charge down the path, overtaking each other. Once at the bottom, some of them take a dip in the small pond. Then they trot into the yard and wait impatiently for their delicious evening meal.

“Before we go to Linz and visit the elephants, we first have a snack in the camel salon,” says Gerda. In anticipation of seeing the pachyderms, we enjoy fresh goat’s cheese, bread and pastries while sitting among the animals. “Thank you very much for the ride. It was a fantastic experience. I never thought I would be able to experience something like this here in Austria,” we thank Gerda.

The roar of the lion

It is already dark when Gerda parks her car on the Mursberg near Walding. Excited to see what awaits us, we enter the well-kept farm. “Hello! Hello, no one there?” calls Gerda. We follow her every step of the way through the stately home. Pictures of exotic animals hang on the walls. A lion yawns at me in the dim light. “But there aren’t any lions here, are there? Or are there?” I ask cautiously. Gerda looks at me without comment. Wait and see, her eyes seem to say. Gerlinde opens the kitchen door and comes towards us with a beaming smile. Gerda greets her friend warmly. “These are my dear friends from Germany. They recently walked 7000 kilometers through Australia with their camels and crossed Nepal by elephant. When I told them about you, they really wanted to see your elephants,” she introduces us. “Let’s go outside then,” replies the instantly likeable woman with her engaging smile.

The two friends walk ahead, chatting. They stop at the camel enclosure. A beautiful two-humped camel stretches its mighty head over the gate. I stroke him carefully. It goes on quickly. Gerlinde uses our visit to do her last inspection tour of her private zoo. She shows us the extremely tasteful outdoor area, which is lovingly designed with stones, paths and flowers. We pass the ostriches, the funny-looking guanacos, the llamas with their quirky heads, donkeys, geese and the bird house. “I haven’t had the parrot for long,” she says, pointing to one of the many birds. “He is quite aggressive. As soon as you enter the cage, he starts pecking the intruder with his beak. The other day he caught me in the neck. So now I only enter his realm with a helmet,” she continues with a peaceful expression on her face. Then she switches off the light of the bird enclosure and we step back into the darkness of the balmy late summer night. Crickets chirp loudly to add an even more exotic touch to the unconventional scene. “Rrroooohhrrrrrr! Rrrrrrrooooooohhhhhhhrrrrr! Rrrrrrrooooooohhhhhhhrrrrr!”, the marrow-shaking roar runs through our limbs. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stand up and I don’t think I’ve heard correctly. “So there are lions here after all,” I whisper to Tanja, following the two women. “Rrroooohhrrrrrr! Rrrrrrrooooooohhhhhhhrrrrr! Rrrrrrrooooooohhhhhhhrrrrr!”, the ancient roar splits the blackness of the night again and reverberates in a terrifying echo from the nearby woods. “Scary, isn’t it?” says Tanja quietly. “And how,” I reply, fascinated to the marrow of my bones. “Imagine lying in your tent and hearing that roar.” “My God, I’d be in my pants,” I say, imagining an expedition in Africa. Along the way, the king of beasts lets out his primal scream several times against the starry sky. We creep reverently along the path into a building. The bleating of different breeds of goats fills the room. Gerlinde switches on the light and the curious faces of the stable’s inhabitants look out at us. An alpaca bends its head cheekily over the wooden beams of its dwelling. I carefully stroke his curly fur behind his big ears. Startled, he backs away and makes a choking sound. “Does he want to spit?” I ask. Once again I try to give the fuzzy head a cuddle. “Kchchchchttt!” I hear and see something fly past me. Tanja and Gerda laugh. He needs some more water, I think to myself, and leave him in peace.

“Mary and Bindi were once chained up here. This was our cowshed many years ago. It naturally became too small for the two of them and we had to build the elephant house,” explains the zoo owner. In the zebra enclosure, I can smell the intense odor of big cats. Gerlinde. opens a nearby iron door and we enter the predator house through the back entrance. Subdued light illuminates a long corridor. It almost takes our breath away. Tanja and I are standing right in front of Mitschus the lion’s cage. He lifts his head and watches our every move. “Can I take a picture?” I ask respectfully. “Gladly,” replies Gerlinde. Mitschu looks at us with his golden eyes and puts his head back on the wooden planks. “Well Bubi. Come here,” Gerlinde says to him, whereupon he lifts his mighty head again. “How did you get to the lion?” I want to know. “Mitschu was born in a circus. Unfortunately, his mother didn’t accept him. Then a vet in Vienna who I know well raised him. When he got too big, he offered him to me and he has lived here with us since 1990,” Gerlinde explains. We watch Mitschu spellbound for a while until we follow the corridor into the building.

Suddenly we are standing in front of Sharif’s cage. “I don’t believe it,” I say. A Bengal tiger jumps off its bed when we appear and presses its muscular body against the bars. “Mei Buale”, (My little boy) whispers Gerlinde lovingly to the king of the jungle and strokes his fur through the bars. Tanja and I hold our breath. Never in our lives have we been so close to the big cat of prey. Despite the fence, the encounter with the tiger is deeply impressive for us. “Sharif comes from the circus in Berlin. He was born in 1988 and often performed in the circus ring. The circus disbanded its tiger group and he’s been with us since 2000.” “Can I stroke him too?” I ask in awe. “Gladly,” replies Gerlinde. Tanja and I kneel in front of the steel fence and stroke Sharif the tiger’s fur. We both can’t believe what we are experiencing here. Our hearts beat faster and the feeling of happiness when we lose ourselves in the clear, deep eyes of the big cat is an experience in a class of its own. Sharif keeps coming back to have his fur stroked. Then he even stands up in front of Tanja and braces himself against the bars with his paws.

It is already late when we leave the predator cages. On the way to the elephant building, we learn that Gerlinde takes in animals that have become too big or dangerous for private individuals or come from a circus. The animals have also found a wonderful home here with Gerlinde, who has now founded a private zoo near Walding. It is a home in which they can grow old in dignity and joie de vivre.

Unleashed power

“You’re getting a late visit today,” she greets her pets, flipping the light switch of the elephant house. Mary and Bindi return their greetings with muted trumpeting. Once again spellbound by the mighty and powerful aura of the muscular and largest land mammals on our planet, we stand in front of the steel barrier. Our petite hostess bends down under the barrier and stands between the two giants. Although I know that the pachyderms grew up with her, my heart almost stops with excitement. Tanja and I crossed Nepal by elephant a few years ago. I wanted to fulfill a boyhood dream. Unfortunately, the elephant lady named Bawan Kumari was a killer and had killed three of her mahouts (masters) in the course of her life. We only found out about it during the expedition. Bawan also wanted to kill me and our translator several times. We only escaped with our lives, and above all unharmed, thanks to a lot of luck and inexplicable protection. I will never forget these experiences again. They are etched in my memory. My heart beats loudly as I watch Gerlinde stroking the animals’ trunks. “You can feed them,” she invites us to come closer. Mary stretches her long trunk towards me through the steel wires. Excitedly, I put a few of the pressed cubes we got from Gerlinde into her elongated nose. Mary can’t get enough of it and I empty the contents of my pocket into her sucking pipe.

“Go inside,” I suddenly hear the familiar voice. “What, you really want me to go in there? Never!” “If you want to get rid of your fear, you have to fight it.” “Should I really dare?” I ask doubtfully. “Sure. Nothing will happen to you. Have faith. Ask Gerlinde. She’ll let you do it.” “Hm,” I doubt it. “Only by facing your fear can you fight it. You know that fear prevents people from realizing themselves. Mary has nothing to do with Bawan Kumari from Nepal,” the voice of Mother Earth convinces me. “Can I come in?” I hear myself ask. “Gladly”, replies the delicate woman whose charisma has also cast a spell over me. My heart drums wildly against my chest. Tensely, I stand next to Mary and stroke her trunk. Then I give her some of the treats that Gerlinde has slipped me again. “You’re a beautiful lady elephant,” I say quietly and stroke her boldly in the armpits of her mighty forelegs. “She senses your fear. She’s also a bit tense,” Gerlinde explains to me quietly. “Understand. Animals sense our aura. No matter how much you laugh, they feel our aura, our emotions. I’ve often experienced that on our expeditions,” I reply and try to relax.

Gerlinde caresses Mary too. She speaks to her in a pleasant tone of voice and, to our astonishment, sits down on the hay between her front legs. Fascinated, we see how she leans her back against the elephant’s lower leg. It doesn’t take long for Mary to return the tenderness and the trust placed in her. She begins to examine Gerlinde’s face with her trunk and no doubt caresses it. Gerlinde’s face is one big smile. She meekly allows the huge elephant cow to do what it wants to her. When Gerlinde slowly slides onto her back and her body is at the mercy of the huge animal, we are breathless. Mary takes a bundle of straw from the floor with her long nose and hands it to Gerlinde. It looks as if Mary wants to feed her mistress with it. Then Gerlinde spreads out both arms and places them left and right between her legs, which are as thick as tree trunks. Surprised, I also think I see a smile on the lady elephant’s face. The end of the trunk glides over Gerlinde’s face. Tenderly plucks the little human nose. Slips over the back of her head. Then Mary lifts her left leg and touches Gerlinde’s cheek with one of her three toenails. With almost unbelievable fine motor skills, Mary moves her toenail, the size of a man’s hand, along Gerlinde’s face and caresses her delicate skin. Just a millimeter too far and Gerlinde’s head is crushed. I am so captivated by the spectacle that I almost forget to take a photo. With my mouth open in amazement, I experience something up close that I would never have thought possible. The relationship between the largest land mammal on earth and one of its greatest adversaries, man, can hardly be described in words. And then, as if it wasn’t enough of a good thing, Gerlinde’s delicate hands suddenly grasp the soles of Mary’s feet. She slowly guides the huge foot over her face. At a distance of perhaps one centimeter, the sole of the 4000 kilogram female elephant hovers above her forehead. The tension is almost unbearable for us when something inexplicable happens. Mary seems to be startled by something. With a mighty trumpet she trumpets with her trunk into Gerlinde’s ears. Mary climbs over her and makes strange noises. Bindi, the elephant cow next door, kneels on her thighs and tries to crawl under the steel ropes. Gerlinde kneels in the straw, obviously surprised by Mary’s unexpected, sudden action, and gets to her feet shaking her head. The incredibly loud trumpeting must be ringing in her ears. She wipes the liquid that Mary blew in her face while trumpeting from her hair and face and stands between the two elephant ladies. She begins to sing a song softly, causing the two animals to wiggle their big ears. Once again, we witness a scene that has never been seen before. Mary and Bindi start to make soft noises. They are infected by the peaceful aura of their mistress and step from one foot to the other. Their gray bodies sway slowly and calmly back and forth to the beat of the song Hänschenklein while they accompany Gerlinde’s singing again and again with merciful-sounding sounds.

We leave the realm of the pachyderms. The dark night settles over us. Because of what I have just experienced, I follow Gerlinde, Gerda and Tanja, lost in thought. What has just happened? Was Gerlinde in danger? “This is the predators’ outdoor area,” I am distracted by the soft voice of our hostess. The acrid, but not unpleasant, smell of big cats is in my nose again. Concentrated power and the mercilessness of wild hunters are associated with the smell. A shadow flits past the nearby gate in the darkness. Eyes flash and then I recognize the outline of the black panther. Confused by the many events of the last few hours, my thoughts cross. The chirping of crickets, the soft tapping of soles, the bleating of goats, the choking of llamas and alpacas, the hissing of tigers, the trumpeting of gray pachyderms and the rustic roar of the king of animals, the lion, transported me to a completely different world.

Later, we sit in the kitchen of the beautiful farmhouse. Over coffee and cake, we listen to Gerlinde’s stories and talk about our adventures in the same breath. We also learn why Mary reacted so strangely. Mary and Bindi have been fighting with each other for years. “The fighting got so bad that we could no longer ride the elephants or take them on excursions into the nearby forests. They began to hate each other and started fighting. I no longer knew what to do. I was terrified. Their immense power was unleashed. My pets suddenly stopped listening to me. We had to separate them. None of them could go into the enclosure any more and it was very dangerous if they did. Now they have gotten used to each other again, but we can never let them be together again. Earlier in the elephant house it was probably because Bindi thought Mary wanted to hurt me. That’s why she wanted to come to my rescue and wanted to get into Mary’s enclosure. Mary then trumpeted to tell Bindi to leave me alone.”

As we say goodbye to the impressive woman, she gives Tanja a picture of Sharif and me a small marble elephant. “I hope we meet again one day,” she says with her gracious smile. “Us too,” we reply, fascinated by her charisma and courage.(More information at: www.tiergartenwalding.com)

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