Wild wild Western Australia

 After 10 seconds in Western Australia, we immediately made a U-turn back to the Northern Territory and here we were sitting and eating our fruits, vegetables, and honey for the last time before the rest was mercilessly taken away from us and thrown in the trash. Mayk proudly returned to the car with 3 sweet potatoes, the rest probably ended up in the quarantine personnel's pan. Enjoy your meal.
Just a few minutes after leaving the border behind us in the rearview mirror, the West greeted us with beautiful rock formations in a picturesque landscape, where the red rocks alternated with the green of the trees and grass.
After an indescribably beautiful sunset, the evening was relatively mosquito-free for the first time and I could finally sleep through the night again. Whether it was because of the western air or the wine is hard to say. Since the drive from Darwin to Broome took another 20 hours of driving, the next day was dedicated to driving.
Driving through Western Australia with one hand on the wheel, the other out the window, good music in my ear, and sunglasses on my nose was a dream and a bit more diverse compared to the Outback.
As the sun said goodbye at 6 p.m. (yes, it's autumn here too), we couldn't drive for too long, but in the end, there were only 300 km separating us from Broome and the west coast. Being the creative people that we are, we unpacked all the games from our school days in the evening and battled it out with games like City Country River and Hangman, and and and.
Am the next morning, the sun woke us up at an ungodly hour of 6 a.m., and 4 hours later we arrived in Broome, the first slightly larger city on the west coast. After a whirlwind tour of the city, which was incredibly beautiful and sunny, we immediately drove to our campsite right by the sea. After such a long time in the Outback and the crocodile-infested north, the sight of the turquoise sea behind the white sandy beach amidst palm trees filled me with a wave of endorphins, as if I were at the sea for the first time. As a highlight, my parents called me, who were probably terribly jealous of me, which made me feel sorry for them again. Barely an hour in Broome, and this city had already stolen our hearts, so we decided to stay another day. In the evening, we went to the famous Cable Beach, where half of Australia parked their 4WD wagons on the beach and enjoyed the fantastic sunset in their camping chairs.

Our plan was to see the camels, which ride along the beach during a tour at sunset. At first, we only saw the group from a distance, until they suddenly seemed to turn. Like a wounded deer, I ran with my camera to the camels to get that one picture of them riding in front of the sunset. I wanted that damn photo, and I got it. The sunset that evening was indescribable and a true paradise for photography. As is typical in the backpacker life, the clock was already ticking towards the last highlight of the day after sunset, called Stairway to the Moon. During the few days when there is a full moon, the moon rises over the sea in the evening and reflects into the wattage all the way to the beach in a straight line.

Although the evening was cloudy and the spectacle only lasted a few seconds, it was still a little miracle that was worth waiting for every minute. After our announced extra day in Broome, which falls under the main point "lazing around on the beach," I went to bed that evening with a hangover like I hadn't had since the last binge. Even the next morning, my head felt like one of those brass bands that composed the bloody thing was marching on it. Even our nature-loving mosquitoes seemed to have set up a welfare community in our car again and treated themselves to a midnight snack, or rather a midnight feast.
(Honestly, I didn't deserve that!). So on the drive to Port Hedland, I slept in the back of our van and two painkillers later, I was up and running again. Our evening together was a dream: warm, without constant beeping (trying to imitate a mosquito), playing cards and reading.
My best friend on the many long car rides is definitely a book called "Breakfast with Kangaroos." I have never read a book that made me smile on every single page. In his book, the author Bill Bryson writes about the curiosities in Australia, the peculiarities of the Aussies, and on the side, you learn exactly the things that are omitted in travel guides (politics and you know what). Especially after the 6 months I have been in OZ, I was rolling on the floor inside (can't do that in the car) when I knew exactly, but I mean EXACTLY, what he was talking about. Absolute reading recommendation of the year! I'm dying laughing!!

The next morning, thanks to Bill, I bridged the drive to Karijini National Park further inland. There, the Fortescue Falls awaited us, where we could swim and enjoy the magnificent nature. Although we happily looked at the Circular Pool from above, we didn't have the time or the motivation (especially the motivation) to go down the adventurous path.

The highlight of Karijini National Park was by far the Hamersley Gorge. Once again, there was a small waterfall with a lake, but this time it shimmered in the most beautiful green, like you can only find in nature. Crabs wandered on the rocks in the water, and the lake finally flowed into a small gorge, into which the 5 of us bravely swam, surrounded by huge spiders that had built their ridiculously large webs on the cliffs.
Our next destination was called Exmouth and was located on the west coast, from which we had moved away for Karijini. Our plans to jump into the sea in the afternoon were abruptly dashed when the navigation system once again showed a well-intentioned 8 hours and 59 minutes. Even though the anticipation of the sea packed up its backpack and left without a word, the 9 hours had now become not the "I wouldn't even drive that long on vacation at home" - 9 hours, but rather the "Then we'll already be there tomorrow afternoon" - 9 hours.
After driving 3,500 km from Adelaide to Darwin through the Never Never and the 20-hour leap to the west coast, what can I say, my own standards have changed a bit.
Just think about how rarely we go out in Salzburg, after all, it takes half an hour to get there. To Rosenheim or even Munich for shopping? Okay, I guess I'll just have to use the online shop.
If there's one thing I know, it's that this point is at the top of my "This can't go on" list. If there's one thing I know, it's that an afternoon is enough to drive to the lake. That an evening is enough to visit friends, even if it's just for an hour, and for sure a weekend is enough to start great trips through Germany, Italy, or wherever.
Even though it will probably be harder to enforce the competency of living for the day at home, I will finally take full advantage of it to the last detail. I can only shake my head when I briefly think about how often such brainless statements like "it's not worth it anymore" came out of my mouth. Yes, you idiot, it's worth it!

Actually, we made it to about 150 km before Exmouth on that day. Being the penny-pinchers that we are, we registered as 2 people instead of 3 that evening (Backpacker saving tip number 2) and saved ourselves another $10 (just cheating these young people).
The evening was a dream: a kettle (meaning tea), an outlet (meaning editing pictures!), a cozy camping kitchen (you can count 1 and 1 yourself), and 3 idiots next to me trying to guess their own word with post-it notes stuck to their foreheads.
Even though on this evening I skipped playing to finally be able to edit a few pictures again, I have fallen in love with playing cards again. I don't know when or why my parents and I stopped playing Rommé back then. Probably other things just became more important, or at least they seemed more urgent to me. But now that I see how much fun it still brings to my mates and me, I absolutely regret that we stopped this wonderful tradition at home at some point.
I'm pretty sure that my parents will laugh and shake their heads at home about this too, just like they do about the fact that I now voluntarily go hiking (you can even applaud for that!).
When I think about sitting around the table with my family at home and finally playing cards again, the joy of coming home increases immeasurably.
Even though I would love to extend my time in my beloved Australia for another year, the sadness of having to leave Australia balances out with the anticipation of coming home again. It's crazy that I had to fly around the globe and backpack through Down Under just to appreciate my home so much.
The thought of having my own room back in Germany, with Wi-Fi, power outlets, a mirror, a clean bed, a wardrobe, and so on and so forth, is like checking into a 10-star hotel. The list of things that seem like too much luxury here is endless. And I haven't even started on the topic of showering without waiting or putting on shoes.
In addition to all the material things, I have also come to appreciate and love in Australia something that I never thought I would ever say: seasons.
Who among us has ever thought about enjoying our seasons instead of just waiting for summer?
For almost a year now, it has been summer for me, and yes, it's wonderful. But an endless summer cannot replace evenings in Advent in a hoodie and fuzzy socks with a cup of tea in hand, and no beach walk can replace walks in autumn when my sister jumps through the leaves with a cold nose.
Australia has stolen my heart, but home remains unique and irreplaceable.