Ok! It was "The Alice". Off for the next goal, which is Ulara, Ayers Rock, about 500 km southwest. It is a trip with the usual foodstops. But among other things here also are a camel farm on the road, where you can buy a ride if You want.
I was more thirsty than sitting on a camel so I drank instead a couple of liters soda in the shade of some tree.
At the route we stopped even at a salt lake.
It is a salt lake, which only covered with water during the rainy season.
The driver tells us also, we can also see the only rubber tree in the Northern Territory.
Very funny - it turns out to be an old dried out wood that has been decorated with 15-20 old tires.
The hotel at Ulara were expensive, so I live in a hostel this time.
So I can save up to § 50 a day and it helps fine on my wallet, which now becoming as dry as the desert here.
Ulara is a town in the bush.
Big and pink and here you can buy everything possible and impossible tourist things and life's necessities. And I get an icecold Coke.
In the afternoon the bus drove against the Olgamountains, 36 km west of Ayers Rock.
Great to see the mountains, just a shame there is no time for further big expeditions into the valleys here, b
ut a quick little trip to "Mt. Olga Gorge" before my bus roars off again.
And I just remember saying that the roads here is a maximum jump board of the hard type.
It could serve as the ultimate test for cars under development.
If the car can tolerate to drive here, a trip to the moon almost nothing.
Well through the jumps we land on target.
I think we were about 250-300 here to watch the sunset.
Or rather see Ayers Rock change colors like a Kameleon.
Of course it was not as nice as the postal cards, b
ut amazing to see so many color changes rocks may show in the glow of the sunset.
And then it's "just" a stone that has no fixed "link" in the underlying reason, but simply a loose stone in the desert.
From a distance, seems "The Rock" not by much.
And again, here is an incredibly clean air which can barely be tasted.
Everything is clear even at very large distances.
So it is almost impossible to judge distances as the sizes of things are hard to assess.
"The Rock" is just getting bigger and bigger until you are standing at the foot of it.
Wow, it is 350 meters high, 3.5 km long and over 9 kilometers in circumference, so You become a little overwhelmed by the amount of this loose rocks, you intend to climb.
Well, I was determined to climb the stone now I was here.
I had seen it from afar and also in pictures. But you cannot help but be surprised when you are standing at the foot of it.
It was just big and we can see only one third of the way up.
And I must of course be talented and climb too much at first, smart as I am.
Whew, I take a break at the first plateau.
Breathing deeply here so much that I get a giant cigarette cough (can clearly taste some old tar), although it's now over 2 years ago I stopped the daily 60 Cecil or Prince.
It was disgusting to cough it up here.
But the top get reached and there is a book where I write my name and a greeting to the world.
This was combined with sweet Kirsten, whom I met on the way up.
We had a break together, where we groaning hello and other things and we got a good little chat about this and that.
Kirsten is from Ferritslev in Denmark, 10 km west of Nyborg.
Really weird, having to travel this journey halfway around the world and stand on top of a stone, a place in Australia and here chat with Kirsten from Funen.
But not only that, because there was also an entire family from Jutland simultaneously.
So no wonder if the Australians and Americans go out to meet at "heavenhill" in Jutland?
Down from the stone block again.
Probably very healthy with such a climb, but it pulls strongly in my legs now.
Into the bus again to go for a drive around the rock where we do a short hold at "Maggie Springs", one of many eternal ponds, which the natives have used for millennia.
As we stand here at the stone, named after a South Australian governor in 1873 by William Gosse.
Here you can better understand that the natives have treated it as something sacred.
It is big, yes it is.
This is where the natives had many of their ritual activities at the stone, which they call "Uluru".
Uluru has belonged to the state, but was officially given back to the natives, while the area was made an National Park in September 1986.
I've always wanted to wrestle with Ayers Rock, if I some day came to Australia.
Another old idea, or dream if you like, has been done.
Actually, quite well when I do the things and it's not just become a dream.
Up in the bus for the trip home to Yulara.
I have a couple days here, so there is a little time to relaxing too. N
ow I will get around town and look at things.
Like almost everywhere here are a lot og pink color.
But the color match is very well into the landscape color.
The next day, my bus will leave from Mt.
Isa with busshift in Alice Springs.
The driver of the bus is also named Sven Hansen, like me.
A little weird.
He came here 10 years ago as a bricklayer.
But he soon became tired of work out there because it was poorly paid in the same way as the mechanics are here (his explanation).
He jumped from the industry and works for Greyhound instead and earned more than § 35,000 a year.
Good salery here, but he is also behind the wheel a minimum of 60 hours a week.
Sven lives in Alice Springs and confirms that the city completely changed back in the early '80s, when the tourist "machine" came to town and the village was upgraded to a tourist center.
It created work for many but all the charm and history is lost.
So much for progress.
On the road from Yulara to Alice, where we have to wait for the next bus, I get a good chat with Kirsten from the island of Fyn in Denmark again and her sister Sarah and her sister's daughter Claudia, who is on an extended stay in this big country.
Fresh and cute girls who just do what so many are talking about.
Follow your dreams and see our world before it's too late.
I wish them luck on their continuing journey because they will stay a little bit longer in Alice and I will continue.
But who knows, maybe we meet one day for a herring meal with schnapps on the other side of the earth somewhere in Denmark.
So I can se the city of Ferritslev on Fyn, if it's still there.
Then I must surely hope there are not too many named Kirsten.
While I waited in Alice, I have a chat with Dave, who originally came from England.
Dave met his wife in Italy but now lives in Melbourne. His
wife is not with him on the trip and Dave speak at any time without notice of her, of one or another reason.
Yes, I meet a lot of well-traveled people on my route and get a lot of stories that confirm that life is filled with people who like me, have a great desire to experience now rather than twiddle their thumbs until it might have been too late
to do the experiences.
Finally at north again.
The clock says 2025 and I see my first live Kangaroo in this country.
There have been many deaths on the roads, but they're not really counts.
But now I understand better they are next to roads.
The driver tell about them, and I may even discover myself that they are nicely waiting until 20 meters before the bus are there.
Then they jump out in front of the bus in the light of the bus.
That dos half of them said the driver.
But they are no different from the deer home in Denmark.
They wait in darkness beside the road, and then when the road is lit by headlights, they jump out where they can see something, instead of being inside the darkness.
I was then just beginning to think that I would never get to see a Kangaroo in its own country, alive and in liberty. With the too many who ended their lives on the highways here.
But then at midnight break we see the "Ti Tree Roadhouse", and then came two of them quietly in the door and mingled with the guests.
Of course I'm not able to photograph the animals, since I have no flash on the device ( would I want it now? ).
Full speed ahead with the bus to "Three Ways", where I should switch to the bus against Mt.Isa.
- Breakfaststop happen in Camooweal, a town of just 300 inhabitants, distributed over 200 Aborigines and the rest is "White Fellows."
We drive to Mt.Isa along Barkley Highway, which could easily be a great competitor to the rollercoaster at Tivoli in Copenhagen.
Just before lunchtime reached Mt.Isa, which according to "Guinness Record" is the world's largest city, if you look at the area which the City manages.
City governments manage a territory from the Northern Territory in the west, Burke Shire in the north, Cloncurry Shire in the east and Bouli Shire in the south, leaving an area of 40,778 square kilometers.
Just another 4,000 km2, then Denmark can lie in the area.
But now there are only 26,000 residents living in the area, so it's plenty of room for the elbows here.
On my traditional evening stroll, I see a large building and an open door where the light peeking out.
And what is more natural than looking randomly in and look, curious as I am now.
Yes, why not!
And now I find myself suddenly among Ramses, Nebukanezar, King David, Sphinxes, Pyramids and Babylon, as it turns out to be a major exhibition about the ancient Egypt Valley of the Kings and all those involved at the time when I can remember everything
little of the time in the school, where I've been more busy looking at the girls and was almost indifferent to what the teachers said of wise words.
But it's really interesting.
And I have indeed seen me a bigger picture slideshow of lectures on the topic, which I for one reason or another, listened very carefully to and it turned out to be more than interesting.
So who knows, maybe one day I found me on all fours, moving into a pyramid or a second place in the Egyptian giant sandbox.
The pyramids are in enormous sizes.
I read just a note that the largest contains 2,3 million stones, each weighing 3 tons.
And then our old friend Napoleon, calculated that with them he could build a wall 30 centimeters thick and 3 feet high, all around France.
It says little about how many stones are used to these giants of the desert, and it is incredible to think of it is done by hand.
But back to Mt.Isa. I've had an idea of becoming the Australian city that I've seen in tourist brochures and read about in old books (among others Arne Falk Rønne, an Danish autor) before departure.
No tall buildings and streets with wide boulevards.
Well, my visions of a city a la Wild West and a pretty relaxed lifestyle, quite in contrast to the speed and tempo that characterize big cities such as Brisbane and Sydney.
I have said earlier about Aborigines, when I visited Katherine in the north, many were not completely sober, not to overdo it with their "scent" and clothes, or perhaps lack thereof.
Here in Mt.Isa is totally different, certainly along what happen near the main street.
There are a lot of the not so sober and just as many dressed up and with seemingly are busy at work.
It has changed a bit on the vision that most people get their "salery" from the state. In
Katherine and other outback towns I've visited on the road, I can se
things are corrected in a very positive direction.
Mt.Isa is a mining town.
Mines is the largest work area and employs nearly 5000 people, of whom approx.
2000 working underground in the mine.
And there is much to do, because mine is one of the few in the world, which produces both silver, copper, lead and zinc in the same area.
There are 380 km tunnels located in an area of approximately 4 x 1 km and down to 1 km below the surface.
There is a 120 km long railway network in computer regulated work in the tunnels.
It is one of the most advanced and mechanized mines, with a confidence not found in other mines in the whole world.
It had also been really good if I had a little more money so I could take out to see all the many things in the area.
But my savings are in Brisbane and it probably also very fine, or else I've just use it all. I have not
much money back and I still have a couple of places I would like to experience before I leave the country "down under".
I just found out something that fits my current money supply.
At an eatery with "Workers Price", You can eat in a room behind the bar.
The more affluent can eat in the room facing the street to 3 times higher prices.
So I try to look like a "worker" and had filled my plate for $ 1.75, which is cheap for a superbig plate of food with the right to take more from the pot, but there was already filled up the first time, belive me.
There was no stinginess at the distribution of calories here.
If the road past one day, it's in "The Tavern's" on Isa Street, You can get yourself a cheap and good meal, if the place still exists.
And it's between the hours of 1130 and 1400 that you can fill your stomach if you just run into temporary poverty.
But I have to say goodbye to Mt.Isa and run south to Bouli, a real outback town where we had a short break before we rush out the road and head towards the city of Winton.
Between Bouli and Winton, we find Hamilton Hotel in the heart of Bush Country.
There is simply nothing but emptiness as far as the eye can see.
Hamilton Hotel is exactly what my imagination has imagined for an Outback hotel.
There is a law that says that it should be called a Hotel, to serve beer and spirits.
The hotel is self-sufficient in several things.
Among others are water collected in barrels by pipeline from neighboring roofs when it rains and also retrieved water from a well where a windmill pumps water up from the underground.
Electricity comes from a generator in the backyard.
I went straight out to wash the dust off my hands in a dilapidated building behind the house, before we had to eat. I w
as as usual a little curious to know where the hot water came from and looked behind the old wooden building. Here
came a steel pipe from one of several water tanks, further down to an old iron barrel hanging over a fire to be heated up and from here goes it to the hot water taps.
Simple and straightforward what can be done with simple means.
And I must remember to say that the water was raging hot here.
The walls in the bar is completely overwritten with the names of visitors over the years a
nd now my signature is also found here.
The wall also contains information that the nearest town is Bouli as we came from, 48 miles away and the next town Winton, are 186 miles away and there we are going.
Talk straight about being out here where you typing after the firebrigade.
And it is to remember everything when you are in town for shopping.
Here at the table instead I got what I quickly dubbed a genuine Outback Burger.
You take: A large white bread, cut it in two and burn it black on the fire. Betwin the
pieces og coal You put an oversized hamburger with onions and a little goop.
And I ordered 2!
But so was the worst famine also gone permanently. Whow!
Well filled the trip goes against Winton.
Most of the tour, thankfully on asphalt, so it's possible to hear what you think.
And now You could speak and hear again. T
he man at my side say his name are John and he talk like a machine gun.
Not exactly easy to understand what he says when he speaks the Australian continental languages.
But I comprehend that John has just completed training to be a sheepshearer.
By chance I saw John's mentor in action, we found out.
It was a day in the Queens Mall, the pedestrian street in Brisbane.
It was a display of sheep shearing, which left the sheep so they resembled newborns without clothes on.
John's teacher is so good that he has several Australian and international championships, with 330 cuts on a workday.
In comparison, John cope around 120 per day, which is considered very good here.
There are many kangaroos on the roads.
But they are now much smarter here than in the Northern Territory, which was actually visible at the roadside before they jumped out in front of the bus.
Here they are so skilled that they are hiding behind a tree or a rock and then jump out in front of the bus where the driver does not have a chance to avoid a collision.
It was also very close to the bus was about to send some cattle to the eternal cowshed.
At appropriate intervals, they had simply gone to sleep on the hot black asphalt.
Very inventive and I must add that this is at night and there is a very dark out here in the middle of nowhere.
And the night is long here near the equator, where day and night are nearly equal in length, depending on the season.
The area we passed, called "Waltzing Matilda Country" and is a huge area where cities of Mt.Isa, Cloncurry,
Hughenden, Winton and Bouli lies.
And just to make the story short on "Waltzing Matilda" I will
mention that it was written by Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson in 1895, at Dagworth Station to music played by Christina MacPhersson.
The actual tune is Scottish and is composed by James Barr around the 1805 and
it has not been known to have words put on the nodes before Paterson made it in 1895.
And it's actually a pretty sad story about a poor conscience.
Here are the story very short.
A wanderer paused at a "Billabong" (dammed pond).
He boils a cup of tea in his "Billy" (a tin bucket).
Then comes a "jumbuck" (a sheep) down to the waterhole to drink.
The man takes the sheep and puts it in his "Tuckerbag" (a bag).
Then comes a "Squatter" (a farmer) on a thoroughbred horse, along with 3 police officers, asking what he has in his tuckerbag.
And to avoid the penalty for theft, the man jumps into the pond and drowns himself in the shade of a Coolabah tree.
- Look, it was a little adventure from the singing world.
Look in the "Waltzing Mathilda" map .
The song has little basis in reality.
It is believed that Paterson got the idea of this Swagman suicide because of bad conscience, from a suicide which was performed by a Frenchy Hoffmeister, who shot himself at a nearby Billabong few months before.
Same Hoffmeister had been active in an attack on Dagworth Station, where buildings were burned and many animals were also lost.
It was a part of many industrial action by trade unions represented at the time.
Hoffmeister discovered and realized a bit late, the futility of that innocent animals should be victims of a conflict between organiced and unorganiced sheapshearere.
He paid his own expense, with his suicide rather than be accountable to the courts.
The song "Waltzing Matilda" became widely known in 1903 when James Inglis in Sydney got the rights.
At the time the song was used in advertisements for his Billytee.
Nothing mor about Mathilda and back to reality.
I am now back in Brisbane where I have borrowed a room by Vibeke and Peter in Holland Park.
I terminated the lease on my house in Stones Corner because there was no reason to spend money on it since I only needed the space for suitcases.
If I did not remember it at the time of travel end confusion, I would like to send both Vibeke and Peter a thousand thanks for the help and their open home back then.
I'm only home one day, this time.
I spend time answering the the letters which has accumulated while I was on tour around the country.
Nice to get letters from family and friends back home with all the warm words on the road.
Many words written, but I also remember getting time with my super friends Vibeke and Peter before bedtime.
But now I'm not sleeping so long.
It is time to get up again and up to the Greyhound bus terminal in Brisbane.
On with the hat and looks down into the scrotum, Uff!
There are getting thin with money now, so I might as well use the penultimate money (the last is to Bangkok) to see as much of the country as possible.
Of course there is not much to see at night, but while we whiz along, there are some second war and gangster movies on the bus video, b
ecause I have booked myself into Greyhound Five star service.
Well and with more legroom and shorter running time, since it does not stop so often on these trips.
Not a bad thing when there are more than 22 hours of driving ahead before we get to Melbourne in southern Australia.
The only thing I can see at midnight is that we cross the southern state border in New South Wales.
But the night also say goodnight to me.
I have been pretty good to sleep in the bus and with the extra leg room here, I sleep pretty well and just really wakes up when the sun begins in the east.
And now we have come so far as the village of Dubbo.
And now starting the big changes in the landscape compared to the arid northern and central Australia, which I've run through until now.
Here it is not the low Mulgatrees and Spinifex grass which dominate.
Here there are green fields and the trees are tall and green.
There are far more vegetation, which can also be seen in the smaller areas for the animals.
Because there is much more grass and leaves, there is much more food on less land than in the countryland.
With a little goodwill, it may well recall a good Danish farm land around here.
Finally we came to Melbourne after 1721 km drive from Brisbane.
It is early evening and damn cold here.
So now it's about finding the Hotel Victoria at 215 Little Collins Street.
A beauty on the busoffice put 2 crosses on a map, she gives me.
"Here, you and here is the Hotel Victoria," she says with a big smile.
Maybe she smiles because she knows that crossed with "Here You Are" are put on the wrong street corner.
The wrong cross brings me out in half an hour walk, in the wrong direction before a bright spot in the brain realizes that something is not right.
I go back and start over.
Did a minute to wish to go in and get the princess to eat the map, but decides that it is probably better that I keep it.
So off in the opposite direction and voila, I found the street and the hotel.
And with an open bar and a willing servant, life is just as beautiful again.
But first a long hot bath after a long day on the bus.
And then I got shaved and nurtured the long nose, I have gotten because of the cold air coming from the bus's air conditioning.
In the warm Queensland there was cold air from the cooler and here in the south in Victoria, there is hot air instead.
So everything was really prepared for an old-fashioned looong nose.
It's good that you can buy the tablets for the long nose here in stores.
I took a few pills on the road in the bus and now I will take 2 more.
So now, I'm getting control of the nasal impersonation like Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe.
You become a little sleepy because the pills, but it is better so I can explore the city instead be in bed and doing nothing.
Now it's Saturday night in Melbourne, and what does You such an evening?
I had to get out to see how the musical part of town functions, now I'm here.
And here is quite nice and I also fizzle around at the various bars and discos and takes the evening, as it comes.
Incredibly how they start early here.
Even at 19-20 o'clock the music and dancing are started and the dance is on.
I'm a wiser man now
I wake up very tired on Sunday morning and spend most of the day to repair the head, which is heavily damaged by exploring the secrets of Melbourne's nightlife.
So the rest of the day will be very quiet and just watch a lot of town and then convince myself that the next night would be quiet and calm.
Monday morning I'm obviously pretty square in the head again.
I do not know if I've just thrown some good experiences away in barexploring again, but what?
I've met a lot of funny people who is living life while it's there.
And today, I had also just go down to the Greyhound, to see if my bag had arrived.
No bag for me, so we'll see.
I schould have sailed on the Yarra River, but the boat is obviously not here today because it's some work on the wharf.
It is my usual luck, but I am instead walking along the Yarra River and see the area.
Actually very nice here!
I then go through some beautiful gardens to find the "Museum of Performing Arts" I would like to visit.
Hmmm, this is obviously just closed to on Mondays here in Melbourne, what else?
But it does not matter, because I can just see the exhibition on the romanticized highwayman Ned Kelly instead, which "worked" in the area many years ago.
Finally, I find the museum, but there are higher powers in charge.
The museum is also very closed on Mondays!
What do you get out of that?
Jooo, NEVER to visit Melbourne on a Monday if you are curious to explore what the city's history can tell us.
Well, I rather have seen James Cook's house, as it was in England where it was built in 1755.
Yes, it was sold at auction in 1933, taken down brick by brick and packed in boxes and containers that sailed here for the town to be unpacked and put together stone by stone in the exact copy so I could see it here in Melbourne
I think it was very thoughtful of them.
Just for my sake, then!
Otherwise I use the day to see the city after the seams.
Melbourne is a very friendly city, which in many ways are similar to London.
It is very English here, not least the language in which you must listen to hear the Australian accent here.
But it is neither Delhi, London or other big cities, you can see in the street photos here.
No, it's largely the Chinese who are everywhere in town.
There are over 30,000 Chinese people in Melbourne, of course most concentrated in Chinatown, but you meet these very smiling and friendly people everywhere.
And where the Chinese are, you will also find incredibly exciting places to eat.
As always I definitely need to visit these restaurants to taste some of their exciting dishes of food.
The weather here may correspond to a Danish autumn.
We are in the middle of July, and therefore winter in Australia.
Many leafless trees everywhere except the many newly arrived palms, which somehow does not really fit into the street scene here.
And then here are very cold, if I did not find a confused sunbeam, I just have to go into a house to warm me.
There are something nice here, I have not seen elsewhere.
It is possible to go under many of the big buildings here, instead of going on the road.
Since basements in several places are equipped with shops, as well as many small streets between the houses are covered over, so there is created beautiful shopping malls instead, so it's actually pretty hot to shop here, though it is winter.
One idea could be used in many northern cities, if the authority could be a little flexible and bend the rules.
But the day ends and the bus starts from Melbourne to Sydney.
Not much to tell because the trip takes place at night, so it becomes a sleepingride.
Instead, I experience a great dawn when the sun greet me to Sydney, with the sharp silhouettes of the Harbor Bridge and Sydney Tower which tells me now we are ready for a warm reunion with the city. I will start with a healthy breakfast and went for a trip
through Hyde Park and find a place that serves a good breakfast.
Happy in my stomach, I find the port for finding a tour boat, so I can see the city from the water.
One thing I missed last time I was here.
But better late than never and the boat begins to sail through Port Jackson which is Sydney's large natural harbor.
As the first boat here some 200 years ago, we rounds the island where the original immigrants first set foot.
But in the mid-18th
century, when England was at war with Russia, the island was cut in water height to build a fort and then came the island to be called Fort Denison.
Then we sailed around the Garden Island, Australia's main Marine base, with many anchored warships are ready to defend Australia and its environs.
Clarke Island is now a popular recreational center that could be seen from the water.
Then Shark Island, named because of the incredible number of sharks which live around the island.
I looked but did not see anyone, but I think they just swam at lunch over by some bathers at Bondi Beach?
The boat glided in Neutral Bay, which got its name in 1789, when Britain was at war (are they always at war, the Englishmen?) with France.
Now the bay uses as a waiting place for ships coming into dock.
From there we sailed over Blues Point, which is the deepest place in Sydney's harbor, with its 49 meters at low tide.
The trip went deep into the natural harbor, until we finish at the Gladesville Bridge and return from there.
Since the bridge was completed in 1964, it was the bridge in the world who had the longest free span between towers, with the colosal steel arches with billions of rivets.
It was a trip of just over 2 ½ hours, which I can really recommend to anyone visiting Sydney.
There are several tours to choose between, so there is something for every taste and pocketbook.
After a ride on the water, the idea was to go to lunch in Sydney Tower again and enjoying the stunning views you never tired of.
But when I saw the 50 meter line for the elevator, I gave up and went down to China Town again and found a smiling man who would serve a good lunch for me.
After a late lunch, I found the Greyhound terminal, to get me a shower and some clean clothes.
I was a little sweaty from running around town.
Again fresh as freshly cut grass (read: clean-shaven), I again would go down to the beloved and hated Kings Cross for a good reunion.
I want to see if I could find some of them, I got some funny moments with the last time I was here.
After visiting a few bars, I noticed that here was nothing but new faces.
So I went down to a Viennese restaurant to get some good food and maybe again meet Danish Morten and Robert from Holland, who was bartenders last time I was here.
But instead I spoke with Margaret from Austria, who told that Morten had gone back to Denmark and Robert had gone to the Philippines to find a job there.
Just to finish in Sydney in style, I went on "Beef & Bourbon" to drink one last beer before the bus trip north.
And here I met Mark from Odense, whom I previously met in the Vienna Bar.
And now Mark been joined by one of his friends from home, Christian, also from Odense.
They were about to finish, here on their last day in Australia before they went to Denmark again.
As I recall, was Mark traveling through Manila and Christian via Singapore.
To honor ourselves we bought a lot of beer to go home on.
And if you have become wise to drink, yes, we were super intelligent here at night.
Oups, it was the the time near races from me. If
I not been lucky just to run out in a taxi right away, I had never reached the bus.
Well, it might not have been the worst that could happen, with the towns cozy taverns and people here?
I reached my place at the last moment and remember nothing more of the night, but I woke up in South Grafton 8 hours later, a foodstop on the trip north.
Thanks the driver for his friendly driving so I could sleep.
The rest of the tour goes through the incredibly beautiful and rugged landscape that can really be enjoyed from the bus instead of sitting in an airplane.
The route runs through the towns along the Gold Coast and here is a town Coolangatta worth mentioning because it does not like so many other cities are built at height, but very relaxed with low houses and palm trees along the roadside.
And I'm also really lucky on arrival in Brisbane, where the bus landed 5 minutes earlyer so I can run out and buy a train ticket to Wacol and jump on the train so I can reach the Grillfood agreement I have with old Willi at Wacol emigrant center where he lives
The story continues in Danish 7.