Hello Australia

So, 2.5 weeks in Indonesia are now over. I'm late. Every two weeks I thought I would share news, feelings, landscapes, and stories from Down Under with you.

I was supposed to go to Perth. Simply because the flight was the cheapest from Bali. So, the plan to visit my good friend Mili (who was with me in high school in Germany) in Melbourne was postponed for now.

'Western Australia is more beautiful anyway' - man, I've heard that a lot. 'Maybe it's true,' I thought and jumped on the plane. All the movies in my head about Down Under looked somehow different from what was already blowing in my face in front of Perth Airport. I rewound and played the movies in my head over and over again. But there was never any talk of cloudy skies, rain, and 16 degrees. Phew. Australia got me back to reality! Now I'm wondering how do I get to the hostel? 'CityPerth Backpackerhostel' slipped out of my blue lips.

The guy sitting next to me on the plane taps me on the shoulder (no ess in German on this **** keyboard) and says, 'Hey mate, come on, no worries'. They always say that here. ALWAYS. I'll overlook the fact that he sorted cigarettes and hid them in his clothes during the entire flight from Bali. He suggests we take a taxi, he gets out with me. Sweating, I watch as the taxi meter goes up. We reached $40. Not exactly how a backpacker travels. 'I don't have money for something like this, man,' I thought. His debit card is broken. Just my luck. 'Can you pay?' Ha, no my friend, here you have $20, I'll never see you again. He actually paid the other half with cigarettes. Seems to work here. Hello Australia.

The next morning the city looked different. Incredibly clean. No paper on the ground. Modern skyscrapers - somehow European. Just sunnier.

So now I'm doing what every backpacker goes through when they first arrive. Total cluelessness. I know that because I stayed in this hostel for 2 weeks and went from clueless backpacker to 'ahh-I-know-how' backpacker. And every 'new' person who arrives has the same 250 questions in stock. Bank card? National insurance number? Tax card? And anyway, SIM card? Oh yeah, job board? And how much do you earn, how long have you been here? What's your name anyway?

It really feels like kindergarten. After 1 week, I knew how everything works and found myself in a little clique of Germans. As far as the eye can see. Germans.

Is anyone actually still back home? I wanted to improve my English.

Now let's fast forward a bit. Perth was. Hm. Really interesting but that wasn't the Australia I wanted to see. I briefly had a small job for 3 days. We had to set up a fair. I sweated like crazy. Australian International Tattoo Convention.

Then, and many people say this, I made a lucky find. The position as a bartender in a beach resort 800km away in Monkey Mia was open. So here I am since yesterday, sitting in this small shack (is that how you spell it?!) and streaming out to you.

Still a bit unfamiliar here. Again. But the water is turquoise and crystal clear. Monkey Mia.

The first questions are coming up in me again. Will it never stop?

Klaus