First heavy rainy day

Day: 265 Stage Three expedition days total 656

Sunrise:
05:38

Sunset:
18:43

Total kilometers:
6980 km

Temperature - Day (maximum):
20° degrees, no sun

Temperature - Night:
20°

Latitude:
23°22'32.9"

Longitude:
150°24'01.3"

Paradise Lagoons Camp – 05.02.2003

Exhausted and freed from all tasks, stresses, dangers and challenges, we lie in our little tent. It rained all night without interruption and is still raining. I look sleepily at the tent ceiling. I feel kind of dull. Like a boxer who has won the fight by points but is still badly battered. My mind is also half asleep. Every now and then, a distant experience flickers to the surface, only to immediately recede into the confusion of the impenetrable. I simply cannot comprehend that I have reached my destination. After four years, it’s hard to understand that our lives are about to change again. I turn my head and see Tanja lying curled up next to me. I am proud of them. I am aware in every moment of my thinking that I would not have made it without them. Her breathing is regular and merges with the sound of the raindrops as they hit the outer skin of the tent.

We only arrived at the Pacific Ocean yesterday and my emotions are already starting to play tricks on me. Somehow I feel sad to have brought the Outback challenge behind us. But on the other hand, I feel a great wave of happiness. We can’t spend our whole lives wandering through the deserts of Australia. And to be honest, I don’t want that either. I’m glad to be able to take a deep breath for a while. I am glad not to feel a wave of adrenaline in my body, no fear that suddenly chokes my neck without warning or half paralyzes my feet. I am really grateful not to have to experience a landslide of feelings and dangers for a while and I long for peace and quiet. I would love to spend my vacation on a small island in Thailand. Ideally in a romantic bamboo hut right by the sea. I can just imagine Tanja and I lying in a hammock all day, reading good books and refreshing our bodies in the sea from time to time. But the reality at the moment is somewhat different.

We are on a ward in our small tent. We have a tremendous amount of work ahead of us over the next few weeks. We need to repair all the saddles, sort out the expedition gear, find buyers for all our possessions, give interviews and write up the story for a future book and website. I’m not sure how we’re going to fit all this into a few weeks anyway. In addition, we have planned to drive around 15,000 to 20,000 kilometers through Australia to admire the sights and natural beauty of this continent that you normally see when you travel here. Unfortunately, our visa expires in mid-March. As we don’t know whether we can extend this again, we are under time pressure. Apparently you can do whatever you want, there is always some kind of pressure.

Tanja uses the day to make phone calls to various camel people from all over the country. It is a grueling task to sell camels, especially when you are looking for good owners. It took a long time to buy our boys and we hope it won’t take as long to find them a home. Unfortunately, time pressure does not help us here. If the supposed buyers realize that we won’t be staying here forever, they’ll take full advantage of the situation. “You are welcome to keep your camels with us. They will of course remain your animals, even if you can’t find a buyer,” we hear the generous offers. Some of them are certainly well-intentioned, but others are pure calculation.

As it is still raining heavily in the afternoon, we go to see our boys to see how they are doing. They shiver all over and are terribly cold. We are worried about Sebastian. He has just managed to overcome the poisoning and now he has been standing in the rain for 24 hours. Hamish, one of the wrestlers, suggests that Sebastian put on a lined and rain-repellent horse blanket. “A good idea,” we say and immediately put it into practice.

In the late afternoon, I take the old truck back to the camel enclosure. I want to bring Sebastian a bale of hay so that he can feed his emaciated body in addition to the grass. “What a bummer,” I grumble as I try to drive through the slight dip in the road. Yesterday, Lions Creek was still dry as a straw, but now a strong stream crosses the asphalt strip. Will the truck get through? I ask myself. Spellbound, I look at the watercourse that has buried the road just a few meters in front of me. I step on the gas and set off, but just a few centimeters before the wheels turn into the torrential stream, I slam on the brakes. An uneasy feeling throbs inside me. “You haven’t taken leave of your senses and are driving in there in that old car,” an inner voice thunders in my ears. “No, I’m not,” I reply and shift into reverse.

Shortly before dusk, I leave the Jackeroos’ accommodation in Hamish’s jeep. Tanja has convinced me that Sebastian still needs something to eat today. Again I stop a few meters before Lions Creek. I was told that a four-wheel drive vehicle can get through without any problems. “They’ll know what they’re talking about,” I say out loud, shift into first gear and drive towards the gurgling water. The bikes immediately disappear into the dark water. As the water rises up to the hood, I am briefly overcome by a feeling of panic, but before I can think again I reach the other side. “Phew, that went well,” I say to myself.

Arriving at the camel enclosure, I discover our mates standing together in a corner and looking over at me. I’m relieved not to see Sebastian sitting in the mud. Despite his protective blanket, he wouldn’t survive that for long. He would lose the rest of his body heat too quickly on the soaking wet ground. The ground is softened. It is impossible to drive to the camels by jeep. The wheels would immediately sink into the deep mire. I heave the heavy hay bale off the loading area and place it in front of the gate. To protect it from the rain, I wrap a water-repellent tarpaulin around it. Then I make my way back again. It stopped raining briefly. When I arrive at Lions Creek, it has shrunk down to a mickey.

Tired and exhausted, we later crawl back into our damp tent. Raindrops are drumming on the tent skin. We listen to the rare sound until we fall into a deep sleep.