The most important part of my car: the windscreen wipers. There is no “interval”, only “fast” and “faster”. Signs call on us to save water. At the third one, we have a collective screaming fit. Then we drive on past flooded fields. The list of warnings on Australia’s official weather website gets longer and longer: cyclones, severe thunderstorms, flooding.
We continue northwards. We reach Port Macquire in the rain, one of Australia’s first three settlements. A hostel with internet, my services are in demand. I meet a couple of Israeli girls who I have met several times in New Zealand and Australia. Lord Peter fights with the prettier Ju-Jitsu. Day five in constant rain.
We drive to the beach in the rain. Unfortunately, the resident dolphins are not riding the waves today. Only a few surfers are frolicking in the water. We go out for a quick swim. But the current and the 2-metre-high waves are just too strong. A surfer almost runs me over.
The weather forecast for the entire next week: rain, rain and more rain. At the hostel, we treat ourselves to Australian skull splitter wine in 4-litre cartons. We empty the entire appliance within one night. The morning after is horrible. Not even fast food really helps, only our Munich girl can drive. Hard-drinking girl.
Port Macquire is the centre of the Australian koala population. We’ve only ever seen one in the wild. Dead on the road. So we visit a breeding centre. Koalas are fed by old grannies. Touching but somehow not my cup of tea.
Other alternative programmes: ignoring $200 fine signs for wasting water in the shower. My record is probably around 45 minutes. But it’s still not enough. Down under: under water. Verena is slowly becoming a Munich girl: everything could be better and if it is, it’s not good enough. At the moment it still helps to punch her on the upper arm when she has an attack. But it won’t work forever.
Unfortunately, a watch that is very valuable to me has drowned. The drops of water on the inside make it almost impossible to read the hours. Everything is permanently damp with mould, like in the rainforest on Fiji. Yuck!
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.