Reunion with friends and our animals
Temperature - Day (maximum):
Sunshine and warm
Wundowie – 02.04.2001
Satisfied with myself and the world, I look out of the window of the passenger plane at the red, scorched land 9000 meters below us. Soon we are back on the endless continent whose geological land mass is the oldest on earth and has the oldest animal species.
According to what I have read, Australian marsupials are at least one hundred and twenty to one hundred and fifty million years older than all other mammals. I’m curious to see what it has in store for us this time?
Will it be as difficult as last time? Cold, heat, rain, drought, bushfires and terrible cyclones were just some of the major challenges on the 2239 kilometers from Wundowie near Perth to Anna Plains Station below Broome. In addition to the most strenuous expedition trip of my life so far, we had an intensive, wonderful time in which Tanja and I learned more about ourselves and the world than we would have thought possible. There was close contact with this primeval soil which, according to scientific findings, is the cradle of our human origins. The Aborigines have been living down there for around one hundred and fifty thousand years, the indigenous people who have interested me for decades and whose way of life I find so mysterious. Will we be able to get in touch with them on our 5000-kilometer walk through the Great Sandy and Gibson Desert and later East Australia? Will this long-cherished dream of learning more about the oldest people on earth come true? I wonder if the natives who come from the time before time can tell me more about the sung dream, the dream paths and the dreamtime.
We still have a lot of preparatory work ahead of us. Thinking about it almost makes my stomach turn, but without good preparation our chances of surviving this inhospitable continent are not very good.
At customs, reality, the here and now and the moment take me out of my thoughts. The friendly officials take away the saddlebags and camel racks we have brought with us because of foot and mouth disease and BSE in Europe. They first have to be chemically treated before the quarantine authorities send them back to us for a fee of 200 dollars.
All our luggage is sniffed by a funny-looking Beagel dog and the soles of our shoes are checked for traces of earth. Apparently the insect repellent that the stewardesses sprayed over our heads before we landed didn’t contain enough poison to kill all the bacteria. Despite the thorough and understandable examination, we are in good spirits and eager to finally breathe the air Down Under again. After 1 ½ hours, the officers release us to freedom. We say goodbye to them like old friends because some of them have already read about our Red Earth Expedition in the newspaper.
Melinda and her children, who were waiting for us in the arrivals hall, welcome us with a big hug. Chatting away, we talk about our experiences in Germany on the drive home to Wundowie.
We immediately feel at home again on the farm. The smells, the dusty earth, the many animals are as familiar to us as if we had never been to the other side of the planet. We hug Phil in greeting. “Welcome home,” he says with an open laugh. “Where’s Rufus?” I ask eagerly, looking forward to seeing our faithful dog again. As soon as we’ve called him, he flies around the corner of the house like a rocket and jumps at us. He licks us happily with his wet tongue. We are touched, because I never thought he would be so happy to see us again. Tanja can hardly stand it any longer and is desperate to say hello to Shiron. We eagerly enter the kangaroo enclosure on the farm. We can hardly believe we are welcoming a real teenager. Tanja hugs him like her son and Shiron licks her cheek with his little tongue. I also kneel down to stroke and hug my kangaroo child. When he stands up, he goes right up to my chest. My God, how time flies. When we got him 1 ¾ years ago he weighed just 1.9 kg. And now I estimate it at over 25 kg. We spend a few more moments with him and enjoy sitting on the heated floor after the strenuous and cold stay in Germany. The afternoon sun warms our backs and bathes the fig trees in a familiar golden light. Relaxed, I hear the horses neighing in the nearby paddock, listen with amusement to Melinda’s parrots screeching in imitation of the children’s voices and watch the dogs playing wildly.
Tired from the long journey, we then take our luggage to the small room that the Ryan family has made available to us for our stay. “Welcome home” is written on the door, which shows us that we have been welcomed by friends.
