Tag 41: The evangelization of the Indigenous

09/08/2016

What a cozy first morning in Australia. Although we are not yet greeted by kangaroos in our hostel bed, we wake up easily and full of enthusiasm with free tea and the knowledge that we can pick up our own camper. Before heading out to find the remote pick-up station, we enjoy an extra extensive and intense shower experience, as the next water source is uncertainly far away.

Today, I am in charge of the navigation to the pick-up location and I am at the top of my game in terms of orientation. So it surprises both of us that although we have to walk to two bus stations in the end, I have managed to calculate the direction and distance of our route without any major incidents. Maybe I should consider joining orienteering.

After some back and forth, we not only manage to get our camper, but also almost the entire range of leftover free food offered at the pick-up station. Along the way, we even come across a full bottle of Absolut Vodka, which we can't do much with due to abstinence, but we definitely don't want to miss out on the Australian value of a spirit in our vehicle (after all, we're talking about almost fifty dollars, maybe we can use it to pay for a tank full).

I couldn't even imagine the camper we got, it's so picturesque. Just imagine a VW T3 (the oldest bus-like vehicle in the world). Except that our Koala Bomber (every good means of transport needs a name, of course) comes from Japan and was built by Mitsubishi - a quality feature, of course. The interior is similar to that of a penthouse: bed, bench, kitchen, fridge, cabinets - all in 4 square meters. On the outside, with a lot of imagination, you can see the original color of the bus shining through the rust spots - I think it was white! But the highlight of Koala Bomber - K.B. - is undoubtedly its thick, colorful lettering on the sides, which says "Hippie Camper". This way we can make sure that every other road user takes us into consideration and the police will levy significantly fewer fines on us compared to other cars - after all, we are clearly marked as tourists and therefore as extra serious drivers (or as the official idiots of the Australian roads, I think that is and will remain a matter of interpretation).

Since I am the man, I naturally take responsibility and settle into the driver's seat. To my surprise, I realize that Gudi has somehow managed to relocate both the steering wheel and the pedals to the passenger seat. After a lengthy discussion and careful consideration, I decide to take on the role of the (apparently quite active) passenger - a man also wants to arrive.

On the road, I soon realize that all of Australia has installed the steering wheel on the wrong side. Furthermore, Australians are really terrible drivers and consistently tend to drive on the wrong side of the road - unfortunately towards me. Being not only a man but also an inveterate European, yes even Austrian, and as a future teacher, I also have the urge to correct and improve other people, so I drive towards the crazy ones without regard for losses, but with honking and wild gesticulation. Obviously, little attention was paid to teaching the natives the difference between left and right during the discovery of Australia and the subsequent colonization, which is why I now see it as my mission to turn a bunch of retarded wrong-way drivers into a gang of right-driving, civilized citizens.

After some time, I see the (in retrospect) huge sticker on my windshield: "left driving!" We do some additional research in a few guidebooks before we are completely sure: in Australia, you drive on the left side of the road. It must somehow be related to this "other side of the world" thing - everything is backwards. As an adaptable European like myself, it is of course no problem to drive on the other side of the road (since I inadvertently do that all the time in Austria anyway) and once I understand that K.B.'s 6th gear inevitably means reversing, we manage to make it to the supermarket - well, to the parking lot, not the frozen food section.

Once there, we do a big grocery shopping. Gudi is responsible for the boring part and throws fruits, noodles, or oatmeal into the cart. I, on the other hand, quickly specialize in much more delicious utensils. So I grab a 2-liter pack of chocolate milk or a 12-pack of donuts. As a reward, I celebrate my purchases by devouring a cake - these can be purchased for $5 and have a diameter of about 15cm, which makes them perfect for eating like a donut.[1]

Since we have a few days until our Great Barrier Reef tour, we drive north to Cairns and visit an Aboriginal village that is already closed at 4pm. No wonder this culture is threatened with extinction if it only works a few hours a day.

Since the village is located on a hill, I can show off my local high alpine driving skills and complete the hairpin curves in record time.

In the evening, our Australia app (which shows us all free camping sites) leads us to a cozy spot where we make ourselves comfortable and listen to the birds singing. Since the sun has set at six o'clock, we are triggered by an automated fatigue reflex and fall into a deep sleep.

Gudi's glorious laws:

Matthias, you have to drive on the left side of the road in Australia!

I only perceive the following words in a very dull and distant way, as I have to focus very much on the evangelization of the indigenous peoples of Australia. Fortunately, after some time, I discover the sticker on the windshield, Gudi would probably never have eloquently pointed out the correct way of driving to me.

[1] Today is day 7 in Australia. I think I've gained about 10 kilos and still haven't reached the tip of the iceberg.