Between crocodile skulls, family stories, and a very Australian Christmas thought

A day that unfolds slowly

The day didn’t have a dramatic start. And that’s exactly why it was so good.

It developed. Layer by layer.

We were out again with our Indigenous Guide – I still can’t recall his name, it started with an L – and much of what he shared I had already documented in content. The story of the Stolen Generation, the family ties, the breaks. That was present. And it stayed there. Quiet, present, without needing to be explained every time.

What was new were the images. And the things that you could touch.

Things that you don’t forget once you’ve held them

There was a crocodile skull on the table. Not a showpiece, not a museum exhibit behind glass. Just there.

When you lift it up, the scales immediately shift. Teeth like tools. Jaws that leave no doubt. In that moment, you suddenly understand why no one here handles warning signs with irony.

Next to it were turtle shells. Heavy. Robust. Signs of a long life.

Shells, bones, tools – all items that are not decorative, but functional. Everything was used. Nothing wasted. You take only as much as you need. This isn’t a moral appeal here, but a logic of survival.

Particularly striking to me was a small piece of material that I held in my hand. Unremarkable at first glance. But with a story behind it that makes it clear: Knowledge was not written down here, but passed on. Hand to hand. Generation to generation. And that’s exactly why the loss from the Stolen Generation was so severe – not just humanly, but also culturally.

Nature as a set of rules, not as a backdrop

Later outside in the rainforest, this knowledge suddenly became spatial.

The plants. The density. That feeling that everything is alive – and that here, without context, you quickly hit boundaries. The selfie taken captures this well: wonder, respect, and a slight “Okay, I don’t know everything here.”

Australia doesn't explain itself through explanations. It explains itself through confrontation with reality. With animals that are really there. With landscapes that don’t forgive if underestimated.

A Christmas thought at the other end of the world

In between, there was a moment that felt surprisingly light.

A Christmas photo. Somewhat quirky, somewhat fitting. And immediately, my family was on my mind.

As kids, we used to love such things. Small, unusual souvenirs. Things that you don’t plan but just take along. I actually packed something. Let’s see what they say about it. Gift-wise, I’m known to be rather… improvable. But maybe that fits quite well.

Not perfect. Not well thought out. But connected to a thought.

The day in retrospect

When I summarize this day, it wasn't a loud highlight.

It was dense.

Dense with history.

Dense with nature.

Dense with what remains when nothing is sugar-coated.

The Stolen Family story had its place. The wildlife explained its part. And in between was space for laughter, wonder, touching – and for that brief moment when you are very far away but still very near to your own people.

It’s exactly such days that carry a journey.

And it’s exactly such days that you take home.