Granny by Pushi around in Australia. Hermine Stampa-Rabe

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!

       By road train through the scorching Nullarbor

       13.01.2013: Albany – Nullarbor (bicycle and road train): 7 km

      I wish to move on. Soon I stand with my panniers outside and would like to fasten them. There two young men again in the conscience are talking to me not to accomplish the trip by bicycle in this ape heat. I smile at them and explain to them that 85% of mankind have continuously fear. Those are normal humans. To the remaining 15% I belong. The here present ones and inside the sittings are all soft eggs (included the Backpacker leader, what I do not say however). They disappear insulting.

      I start with sunshine and blue sky. The cloud cover from yesterday took off up to small fleecy clouds. The director of the Backpacker hotel looks for me outside in order to photograph me with my start. I also give him my camera and receive on this way a starting photo.

      It goes off and always easily uphill. But it cycles completely pleasantly. Soon Albany lies behind me right at the bottom. With a funny feeling due to the dangerous Nullarbor crossing I roll towards the east, always considering, how I can solve this large problem. After 7,14 km the highway divides. My distance continues to lead right hand towards the east. To my bright joy here a roadhouse stands. That smiles at me correctly pleadingly to enter.

      I can not resist the feeling to drink here a bottle with cold Sprite, place my full loaded bicycle right beside the entrance, climb the stages and enter a marvellously cool interior of full shelves with treats.

      Behind that the owner is dispatching a straight guest, who stands for bar. And against the bus distance from yesterday what happens to me after going away from Albany in the first roadhouse, is still nothing at all. When I tell my project to the landlord, he takes me also into a different room of his roadhouse and shows me completely proudly his recumbent bicycle, a couch bicycle, at which still in the back are the two bars with the orange triangle flags.

      With this bicycle and a trailer behind it, then he tells me completely proudly, he has cycled three years ago nearly over completely around Australia. I am flabbergasted and totally fascinated by him and his bicycle! But he is a large, strong, broad-shouldered man with very much strength, actually the opposite of me.

      And then he also warns me completely urgently to ride with that amount of water, which I transport with me, not through the Nullarbor. At least I need in addition still two water bags to 5 litres each, which I have to buy and to fasten on my bicycle in Esperance in the camping and fishing shop at the road. That it is impossible for my conditions, I do not tell him, but say that I will make it.

      In thoughts I am despairing totally. Why isn’t my dream to become true? What for a hell inserted the nature here for the bicycle drivers, who must cycle towards the east, in order to be able starting from Ceduna further on?

      While I am sitting and thinking about my problem, I am looking through the window outside and an considering, how I can come around this here existing evil, then I will cycle just to Norsemann and think, in order to look there for truck driver, who carries me forward with my bicycle trough the hell of Australia. I send prayers above after “to my large friend in heaven”. Perhaps it helps me, yes.

      And while I look through the windows to the washers with the routine on the outside of the square, I see driving cars there but in fact a great red road train which stops. Oh, I think, his two trailers are securely sealed, so that there can be nothing more come in it. But I still want to ask.

      With new courage I thus go outside to the men of this large spectre of all bicycle drivers and ask whether they can carry me forward with my small, full loaded bicycle, which stands there at the wall, in order to save me from certain death by dying of thirst in the Nullarbor.

      They smile mild at me, look at me from top to bottom and then at my small full loaded bicycle. But nobody says something. Well, as fast I give not up, remain at them sticking and ask still twice. Therupon I am smiled at and they nod with the head “yes”!

      Now I am saved and want to push directly my bicycle here. No, it shall stay there; because before they still want to shower, refuel and have breakfast here. I am to wait. That I do and ask to be allowed to pay their breakfast at least as thank you. No, I may not do that. Thus I remain sitting beside their table and do not leave them out of my eyes.

      And then it is so far. All go outside. The one road train driver shows where my bicycle on the other side must be pushed in. I will get it fast and bring it