daughter Gudrun calms me down and says that the police is already looking for this man and he is long gone.
In fact, my bicycle is delivered in the hostel. In the bicycle shop the young man is eager to see my bicycle. I imagine it there and buy me also the same time in this shop new bicycle shoes for clip pedals and gel gloves.
Then I trimmed my luggage from 51 kg to 31 kg, I drive off.
Final, I go on!
10.01.2013: Perth – Mandurah: 75 km
When I crawl at 5 am from the bed, I carry my panniers completely quietly from the room and down on the inner court of the Youth Hostel. After my muesli breakfast I check out at the reception and load my bicycle. But who takes a photo of me when starting, if none is here? Completely down I push the bicycle off the yard. Oh, which happy adding! A motorcyclist drives on the yard and takes my start from the Youth Hostel by video.
And then it goes through the nearly sleeping Perth by radiating blue morning sky! Perth is a bead of a city. Here the hecticness of the many other cities does not prevail over day. Here it pleases me. Also because of the long and large bank promenade of the broad Swan River, where everyone can take a beautifull walk or ride its bicycle.
With the left-hand traffic I do not have difficulties. The drivers do not honk. I hope for their compassion. With sunshine and 23 ° C I cycle above the Swan River on the Freemantle Highway out of the city. In order to photograph, I would have to stop on the road. I do not dare that, however, in order not to bring the drivers in conflict.
Thus I cycle along on the highway towards the south. At 11 am provokes me the first large gas station, in which I buy a small can of Sprite. Sprite belongs to my large bicycle tours. This cold and wonderful sweet liquid makes me happy. A cockerel salad forms my firm meal.
Outside stand ICE containers. I would like to carry these ice cubes gladly forward in my cool box. They would dissolve slowly. In this way I would have always cool drinking water. The panniers are however heavy with their 4 kg too. The gas station-waiter gives me the hint to drive and buy me a water sack at the camping and fishing road shop in the next place, by whose large opening I can put the cubes in it. I find it also. But the water bags have also a much too close opening.
Thus I decide for a small 3 l cool box with firm screw-type cap and drinking valve and leave there my 10 l cool box for the nice shop assistant. Therefore I receive the cool-box $10 more cheaply. The next problem follows: How do I fasten this round, oblong equipment together with my tent on my porter? All my cooled water from my small drinking bottles and the 2 l water sack I poure in it. Beautifully firmly screwed on, I hope it will be close. First I place it upright behind my saddle and behind it crosswise against sliding down the tent.
Works, presses however in the back at my bottom at my extended spinal column. I must sit far in front on the saddle. No, that can not be done. I am thinking: If this container is firmly screwed on, no water might actually withdraw and therefore it can lay down.
If something water nevertheless withdraws, it drips only on waterproof local clear packing ashes. Now I sit again correctly on the saddle, in order to move freely and merrily the pedals.
Here I cycle for a short time on a cycle track or the side strip of the highway. If a large truck drives past at me, all this goes well.
On the caravan park of Mandurah I receive a shady grass field and set up the tent for the first time. It takes long time. That is thus capable of improvement. But why shall I actually hurry? I am nevertheless not on the escape! Evening temperature: 27 ° C.
I, the thirsty camel
11.01.2013: Mandurah – Bunbury: 105 km
At the night it storms enormously. Fortunately my tent stands protected behind a high wall. In the night drive the cars, which are standing beside my tent, at different times away. From sleeping I can not speak. At midnight the storm suddenly falls asleep, and against morning isolated small fair waether clouds swim such as cotton wool balls in the blue sky.
My thermometer shows 26 ° C. In the high tree beside me several black-and-white magpies pipe. Before the entrance of my tent more highly and closely shrubs grow. If I had had fear, I could not have slept, because therein spiders, perhaps also poisonous, surely have woven its nets. But those were not interested in me. And a snake had also no longing to creep to me in the tent.
Tiredly I start at 7.30 am. Two different highways are to me after Bunbury at the disposal. The man from the bicycle shop in Perth advised me to take the coastal highway. That I do, can also shoot some photos.
After a long distance the whole traffic is led on the new highway, which goes parallel to the old coastal highway. With water muesli in the belly and hardly slept, I roll so slowly with head wind forward. It cools me down. My thermometer shows 27 ° C.
When I recover in a roadhouse, a woman tells me that one week ago here still prevailed 45 ° C. We will soon again have those. A heat wave always follows a cooling. Well, there is approaching some for me still in such a way.
During my next respite the today’s hard bicycle route does not go out of my head. Tomorrow my distance leads me through a low mountain range. In addition with my current achievement I am not able to do it. That I must keep clear before my eyes. But how can I come through it to reach Albany?
Some years ago I read the travel blog of an young English journalist, who wanted to cycle from Sydney around Australia. When he drove here from Bunbury to Albany through this very high-wavy low mountain range, he fell so hard that he had to lie several months in the hospital. And if this man did not create it, then I can create it as a small woman less than ever.
I remember the lady of the Perth tourist information after 5 pm, whose business card is in my wallet. Thus I keep simple, get out my mobile phone on a crossing and call her. From her I receive the message that a course drives from Bunbury through this mountain landscape until Albany. This connection I still will book in the evening. I am completely relieved and look forward to the course trip. With the cars, which populate the highways, the gruesome question goes again and again through my head: Will sit in one of these cars the head cutter?
Since I reach only at 6.20 pm the station Bunbury, there it is already closed. As I come to the caravan park, there it is also already closed. Fortunately still another woman stands in her yellow protective clothing on the yard, which helps me. She finds a telephone receiver at the entrance door including telephone number and hands me the listener. The lady at the other end wants to come directly. She does also. And because I have only a small person tent, I receive a lawn for $20. I would have paid that gladly also in Mandurah, but unfortunately I had for the primitive caravan place to pay $35! This neck cutter!
Here stands a great deal and many larger tents. None person answeres my greeting. It storms. It is not so simple at all to set up the tent. After my luggage also lies in it I attach still my bicycle at the railing before my tent.
Again back in my tent I make it cosy for me in the darkness. But in my small down sleeping bag me freeze the naked feet. I set up my tent against the wind, so that the cold wind whistles from the rear by the fly net. So I can not sleep. There I remember the cool bag, which is in my luggage. This I get
