Flocks of sheep graze sometimes on the left, sometimes on the right. A flock stands on a plowed up field. What should and can they eat there, remains to me puzzling. Also horses graze on another pasture.
In front of me an other mountain chain has been based. Before it my desired purpose must lie, however, I can not discover it with the best will. A fox laces straight across the street. On the right side a kangaroo jumps in the thicker bushes. In order to take photos it is simply too fast away.
Now I cycle to the next killed Kangaroo. This has got a belonging beat. On this occasion, at first sight it is not to find out whether it concerns of a female or male animal. The intestine lie around everywhere. It looks ghastly. Who will take these dead animals away from the street or eat it up?
Then I put out a single big animal to the right hand ahead on a field. I suppose a kangaroo. No, it turns out that it is an emu. I take a photo of it and further roll on. The heat is still to be bear. Nevertheless, I soon must arrive!
Yes, the crossroad appears and with her the sign Wilmington. Tearing open my eyes after the sign for the caravan park, I cycle in the little town and follow the sign. But before I hold at a small businessman's store to be able to rest there maybe a little.
Outdoors already rule 42 ° C. Inside it feels chilly pleasantly. My eyes suck themselves firmly at a big piece of a water melon. I would like to eat that and can be given them with knife, fork and spoon. Behind the front door there is a board and two chairs.
Outdoors I read also the name to CAFE for this shop. Thus I sit down there and refresh myself in the marvellous fruit. One single poem!
Both dead kangaroos do not go out of my head and I ask the businessman: „Who gets them off the street, or will they go to seed there stinking and dry up?“
"No", he says. „Our birds and the fox do this in completely short time.“
The young salesclerk recommends me the Beautiful Valley Caravan Park. The other lies further in the wild interior. To pass away, no, I have no interest.
It does not last long up to my daily objective. The owner assigns to me kindly a big day room with three tennis tables and a television. Also my bicycle can come inside. Thus I do not need to build up my tent. In it I would be also roasted and everything in my panniers become roasted through. And the thermometer registers me in the room 38 ° C.
In my notebook I receive between my emails a tip how I can cool off in spite of the scorching heat: to hold my head under water and coat the nose thinly with vaseline from the outside and inside, then I shall buy from the drugstore correct water with salt and Nasal saline spray for the nasal mucous membranes.
But I am sometimes again as killed from the heat – even if five degrees less than outdoors – and lay me on the sofa which became opened out by the owner. When I awake again, I tear me together and plan to go to the drugstore to buy for me the nasal spray.
Because this caravan park lies, however, 1.5 km beyond the little town Wilmington and I am too decayed to go free of charge to the town, I enter the office and ask my landlord, who has a white pony as friend, for a drugstore.
„No, here is none, but tomorrow in Orrorroo. Make a handkerchief wet and place it around your neck. Here the small children are already educated for the protection of drying up against the heat so: The parents search small, round little stones for them, they boil them and give one of it to every child in the mouth where it must remain always. With it it is provided for the fact that new saliva is formed over and over again and does not dry up the oral mucosa. Brilliantly, right?“
How I should stand this scorching heat the whole months here, is mysterious to me. In addition, I also can not put back as wide distances during the day as I had planned for it. My bicycle tour becomes a letter with seven seals.
It is 4.00 pm. Here in the big day room in which I am quartered rule also already 40 ° C. I will see, how hot it is now outdoors. Outdoors there rules at the moment the same heat because some clouds have gathered and cover the sun. It is not real to the endurance!! This is why I collect myself a heart, goes to my caravan landlord and ask him: „Do you have for your guests no chill day room?“
„ No. “
„In my big room where I may sleep rule 45 ° C. I can not live there. Is here in this town a restaurant in which I can sit down up to the evening?“
„No, there is not a restaurant, only one hotel. Do you want to sleep there?“
„No, I am not rich. I will sleep in the big room if it has become chillier.“
„Come along with me. I bring you in a chill space.“
So I follow him to one of his small guest houses in which he brings me. Immediately he turns on the air conditioning. After a whole time there is the temperature of 33 ° C.
Montezuma hits me
18.01.2013: Wilmington – Orroorroo: 54 km
Today oh yes, my speedometer functions again. It also does not stand the heat. Anyway it is not reasonable to cycle in 50 ° C with a high loaded, heavy bicycle by this scorching sun.
Suddenly Montezumas revenge meets me. And no toilet is far and wide! Which disaster! From sleeping the speech can not be at this night. The heat here amasses lets flow my sweat in streams. I look at this as a slimness cure and roll unilaterally to the other side. At 4.30 pm my alarm clock rings.
When I step outside, I am not astonished badly: Yesterday the cross of the south stood still clear at the black night sky. And today early? Clouds race along the sky. The weather has overturned, just as it was written by my friends in facebook. But I did not trust the peace. But it is right! To Orroorroo today I can cycle completely safely. There’s a gale blowing.
Again back in my accommodation, the horizon changes the colour in bright yellow. All packed and the bicycle with the panniers pushed out, I start.
Rain droplets moisten my red panniers. Therefore, I dress me in my pink wind blouse. If it should be still properly raining, the wind blouse would be enough; since there are 23 ° C. Everything would dry fast again from the storm.
Between the dark and brighter clouds which race along at the sky, appears light blue sky. Soon the sun will also look through them. But, nevertheless, I have problems with the storm. He presses from the right substantially against my panniers. From home I know that I do not become fallen if I go in possibly high speed. The street is good. It is not damaged by frost. It becomes brighter and brighter. But there is not a sunrise as usual on account of the quite thick cloud cover. At 6.30 am I start because only then it is getting light.
How long will I need for this day, if the storm gets me later still from the front? But I think positively and recite to me my biblical saying: Be not afraid. Since see, I am all days up with you till the worlds end.
Thus I step substantially in the pedals. In this time still no car goes. The street belongs to me only. It exists of very coarse material which became, however, already flat from the cars. On the way I insert a break and eat from my sweet biscuits and drink a lot of water. On this resting place many rose cockatoos are sitting in the trees and shriek. And I roll further.
When a hotel is announced at the roadside, announces itself to me the normal hunger. But what stands here as a hotel, can be called only a ruin. However, there is a door at which I can ring to buy something. I do this. But nobody opens it. Thus I look exactly through the grid door and see to the left a rose cockatoo sitting on an armchair armrest. Thus I take the remaining distance under the wheels.
Once the storm would have almost upset me with my bicycle. Luckily I could still come fast enough from the click pedals and