Spooky silence

Day: 24

Perth-Goomalling – 04.06.2000

I finally finished writing on Sunday evening. I say goodbye to the perfect, lovely and warm hosts Claudia and Angelika. It is dark as I drive through the streets of Perth. I hurry to reach our camp near Goomalling. The Great Eastern Highway is deserted and I hope that none of the kangaroos jump into my car.

I reach our camp at 8.45 pm. Surprised, I notice that no fire is burning. I switch off the engine of the old Holden and listen for a while. The camp is eerily quiet. Nothing, absolutely nothing can be heard. Just two hours ago I was on the phone with Tom talking about his home-brewed beer and the T-bone steaks we were going to grill and now the camp is dead. Not even Rufus comes to greet me in his exuberant joy. Nothing will have happened! Terrible thoughts cross my mind. I carefully open the door of the car and let my gaze glide over our camp site. It all looks quite peaceful. Then I check the fireplace where some branches are still glowing. They’ve probably already gone to bed. “Tanja, Tanja!” I shout cautiously, whereupon I hear a tired murmur from the direction of our tent. Relieved, I walk to the tent and open the zipper. Tanja opens her sleepy eyes and greets me with a kiss. “We couldn’t wait any longer. We were too tired. You know that the evenings at camp are often quite short,” she whispers and immediately falls asleep again.