Australia
Flight to Darwin
The flight was okay at first. But after we were served chicken legs, oranges and a small sandwich, it suddenly started to shake. It was a four-engine plane. We got caught in a storm and out of the window you could see how hard it was raining. Some chicken legs, oranges and bread rolls flew through the air. We collected everything that came within our grasp.
The flight calmed down again and there was a stopover in Dili, then still Portuguese Timor. A short layover, then onward flight to Darwin. The whole flight took less than three hours.
Australia, Darwin, Northern Territory
Plane lands in Darwin in the afternoon, first surprise, the doors are opened at the back and front of the plane, two men, shorts, white socks, sports shoes, enter and the doors are closed again. Each of them sprays the passengers with a large spray can, one on the left and one on the right, it doesn't smell good. We all wait to see what happens now, after a few minutes of waiting, the doors are opened and we can get out, stairs, and step onto Australian soil, very good feeling, even though we were practically without money, but we both had a "working permit" stamp in our passports. We are greeted with hand signals
Directed to the building, at the entrance there is a small tub on the floor with thick foam, and all passengers have to go through this tub, liquid seeps out of the foam, after this passage, through customs control, and further our vaccination card control, no problems anywhere. In the meantime while queuing we had spoken to two New Zealand men, and exchanged a few things, they were on their way home. Another check awaited us, we were asked if we wanted fruit or other food, meat etc., I showed the oranges and bread rolls, he let me have an orange AND a bread roll, I had left the chicken on the plane.
He asked several times if we had any other shoes, I said yes, and dug out my US army outlet shoes, he took them with him, Rolf didn't want to hand over the shoes, they were quite dirty, nevertheless he handed them in, the quarantine employee disappeared with both pairs, and brought them back to us in perfect condition and cleaned, he told us they would take great care that diseases would be brought in, especially with the shoes. Would.
By cab to the city of Darwin
We stepped out of the building and got talking to the New Zealanders again, asking if we would take a cab into town with them, we said we weren't well off, both about our age but much better dressed than us. Don't worry, get in. Where would we like to go, we said some cheap place, a youth hostel,
They had already found a good and cheap hostel on their way to Asia. Ok, we'll gladly come with you. Once there, they paid for the cab and we followed them to the hostel, where we were both greeted by the owner and his wife, they were given a room, now it was our turn, I immediately told the owner that we had practically no money left, if we could leave a deposit and pay later. He asked if you were coming to Australia to work, yes we answered this question, if you had a good camera you could leave it with me and pay when you had money again, and all without bureaucracy.
Rolf handed over his film camera and I handed over my camera as a deposit
With the saying "don't worry", which is often used in Australia. We thanked the New Zealanders for the ride. They both invited us to come to New Zealand and gave us their address, they lived in Christchurch. The next morning they left for the airport very early.
It was December 31, 1973, I still had about 2 francs in my pocket, Rolf a little more. It was warm, so we walked up Smith Street to the first pub, each drinking a well-deserved beer, quietly enjoying the beer, glad that despite all the excitement of the previous days, especially on the day of the trip, everything had turned out well. During the journey, we shared 1 bottle of beer each.
On 01.01.1974 we went for a walk through Darwin, normally everything was closed, except for a Croque-Monsieur stall, where we could get a cheaper price.
We received a croque-monsieur at half price because it was "old" bread. Nevertheless, it tasted good.
So that we could look for a job early the next day, we asked a few passers-by, all of whom said they were closed today. crazy foreigners, they didn't mean any harm, they were grinning, but they explained to us where the Employment Office was. We found it, so we knew where to go the next day
Otherwise we also looked around the town a bit and found a kiosk that had a piston coffee machine, he was Italian, nice man, we ordered 2 small coffees, which we enjoyed with our eyes closed, he gave us 1 coffee, we were very happy about the gift. This kiosk became a must for us every Sunday after dinner, to drink a decent coffee there. Most of the places were closed, I think many had a hangover.
First job in Darwin, Australia
On January 2, 1974, we were at the Employment Office very early. We had a look at the vacancies board. To our great astonishment, practically only manual occupations were advertised. I didn't want to work in an office - it paid less and then there was the obligatory dress code.
They were looking for cooks, butchers, bakers, confectioners, locksmiths, car mechanics and so on. My eye was caught by the job "building painter". I said to Rolf: "I'll go in and register as a building painter."
"What makes you think that?" he asked.
I replied: "As a 15-year-old, I was asked by some grandmothers in our neighborhood if I would paint their kitchen with white paint. Of course I asked why they didn't hire a real painter. The answer was always: 'They're too expensive'. I told the older ladies I'd have to think about it."
Quick bleach trained as a construction painter
How do you do that? A little money was always welcome. A new house was being built in our neighborhood and the painters were painting an exterior wall. I went there and asked if they could explain it to me. They said yes, but said: "We'll give you money and you get us four bottles of beer."
I got the beer. Then an Italian painter explained everything to me: first wash the wall with Rico, sand any unevenness with paper, fill any holes with putty and only then paint with emulsion paint and a roller. I should get a corner brush and paint the corners with the brush first before rolling. "If you're doing the work at the woman's, come to my place first - I'll lend you the materials, except Rico, you'll have to buy them."
I asked what I should charge the woman. He said they would charge between 120 and 180 francs for a kitchen like this. At first, the older woman only wanted to give me 20 francs. I said no, it was a lot of work, the painters would charge much more. During the school vacations, I then painted two kitchens - 40 francs each, and each job took two days.
So back to the registration at the Employment Office. We entered and I said I was interested in the job as a construction painter. We were asked by an employee to come in and take a seat. He took my personal details, looked at my passport and then asked where I had learned my job. Like lightning, the name of a painting company in Biel popped into my head. I replied: "With René Ackermann."
"How long did the apprenticeship last?"
"Three years."
Rolf sat next to me and mumbled: "If they ask, you're in trouble." I was sure they wouldn't ask - not with a letter in the post and an overpriced phone call. There was still no email, no fax, no WhatsApp and so on. Okay, my form was filled out.
Now it was Rolf's turn. But he didn't say the same teacher as me. The interview was over quickly. The employee from the Employment Office said he had a job for us straight away, but it was temporary. A master painter has to finish a job within five days. Should he call him? We said yes, gladly. He called, and within half an hour the man picked us up and drove us to work.
The wage was agreed. In Australia, if you say you have learned the trade, then according to the union you are a "trade" and receive the wage of a skilled worker.
Wood stain and putty
There were lots of detached houses on the building site. Our job was to putty the lower part of the wooden windows first and, once everything was dry, paint them with a kind of wood stain. We did as the master instructed. He only corrected us a little, and we even learned how to remove brush hairs without pulling them out by hand.
Closing time. We were out of money again.
"Where are you going?"
"If you would take us back to the city, that would be okay."
"If you would take us back to the city, that would be okay."
As soon as we were on the road, I asked him if he could lend us both 20 Australian dollars each until payday. He stopped the car, took out his wallet and gave us 20 dollars each. He laughed and said: "No problem, we'll settle up at the end of the job."
"So what, do you want to go home?"
"No, I'd rather go where you can buy something to eat."
He drove us to Woolworth's, a large store. "I'll pick you up at your inn tomorrow at 7 o'clock."
"Okay."
We entered and consulted: first a decent piece of meat, then onions, salt, canned green beans and something to drink - preferably a little red wine. However, there were no 0.75-liter bottles in the wine department, only gallons. So we bought a gallon each. We paid for everything at the till and split the cost 50-50.
We walked down Smith Street to our guesthouse and occupied the communal kitchen. There was no one there. But because the smell found its way out and the windows were open, a few pairs of eyes suddenly looked in and said: "It smells really good!"
Rolf and I enjoyed this first real meal in Australia and had plenty of wine to go with it. It was an Australian red wine called "Burgundy" from the Barossa Valley.
We worked for this man for five days. At the end, he paid us as agreed and deducted the 20 dollars he had lent us. We paid for our room and got our cameras back.
Rolf handed over his film camera and I handed over my camera as a deposit
With the saying "don't worry", which is often used in Australia. We thanked the New Zealanders for giving us a lift. They both invited us to come to New Zealand and gave us their address, they lived in Christchurch. The next morning they left for the airport very early.
It was December 31, 1973, I still had about 2 francs in my pocket, Rolf a little more. It was warm, so we walked up Smith Street to the first pub, each drinking a well-deserved beer, quietly enjoying the beer, glad that despite all the excitement of the previous days, especially on the day of the trip, everything had turned out well. During the journey, we shared 1 bottle of beer each.
On 01.01.1974 we went for a walk through Darwin, normally everything was closed, except for a Croque-Monsieur stall, where we could get a cheaper price.
We received a croque-monsieur at half price because it was "old" bread. Nevertheless, it tasted good.
So that we could look for a job early the next day, we asked a few passers-by, all of whom said they were closed today. crazy foreigners, they didn't mean any harm, they were grinning, but they explained to us where the Employment Office was. We found it, so we knew where to go the next day
Otherwise we also looked around the town a bit and found a kiosk that had a piston coffee machine, he was Italian, nice man, we ordered 2 small coffees, which we enjoyed with our eyes closed, he gave us 1 coffee, we were very happy about the gift. This kiosk became a must for us every Sunday after dinner, to drink a decent coffee there. Most of the places were closed, I think many had a hangover.
A new job immediately
After the first job, we went back to the Employment Office. The employee asked: "Everything okay?"
"Yes."
"Do you want to go back to work?"
"Of course."
"Okay, I'll see what's available." He told us that a medium-sized company was looking for construction painters - and as soon as possible. Could he call the company owner? He said it would take about an hour, then he would pick us up.
After about an hour, the new boss, or master painter, picked us up. He was European and his company was called "Easy Decorator". We arrived at a new apartment building under construction. It was a motley crew: the foreman was Fleming and his name was Sony, then an Englishman, an Italian, a Ceylonese, an Irishman, an Austrian and the two of us - Rolf and me.
The work was explained to us and off we went. First we had to paint a gutter with a brush and a really difficult paint. There were always little bubbles forming - probably old or bad paint.
After this construction site, we worked in a new neighborhood, all new single-family homes. Our job was to paint the kitchen cabinets. I had a hard time spreading the paint properly, and we had half a day for one kitchen.
There we met a Swiss man, Markus. He had learned the building trade properly, his father owned a painting business in central Switzerland. He completed four kitchens in half a day. His trick was to soften the paint with thinner, which made it much easier to paint. He saw straight away that we weren't "real" painters. We told him to keep it to himself and not to rat us out to the boss - otherwise we would be deducted about 30 cents per hour.
A few days later, the boss came to us and said: "I know you're not building painters. The Swiss guy ratted you out."
The boss wasn't a painter himself. Nevertheless, our salary didn't change - probably because the owner had brought in a big job: painting the hangar for the Qantas Boeing 747.
Hangar for the Quantas Boeing 747
We were given this job - Rolf and I. Painting a hangar for a Boeing 747. It's hard to imagine how big this thing is. It was made of cement blocks, and these blocks didn't absorb the paint very well. You had to press the 80 cm wide roller full of paint onto the wall with all your strength.
I stood at the top of the rolling scaffold, Rolf at the bottom. Without giving us any credit: the other employees probably wouldn't have made it due to lack of strength. The boss knew that too, so there was no deduction from our wages. We still asked for 30 cents more per hour - and got it.
I had the roller, Rolf the cutter. We were busy with this work for two weeks. The others painted small doors and made sure we didn't run out of paint.
I don't think we needed a fitness center during that time. It was a huge effort.
After the first week, the boss came in on Thursday and asked if we could wait for our wages. I didn't like that at all. We said we couldn't - we had to pay for our room and so on. Later I said to Rolf: "I think I'll give my notice at the end of next week. Suddenly he can't pay us - what then? Where do we get the next job?"
In the pub - we only went there on Saturday evenings for an after-work beer - I had heard that a company was building bungalows for the nurses next to the hospital and was looking for construction workers. No sooner said than done.
Job change
I asked Sonny, the foreman, if I could leave early on Thursday afternoon. He said: "Okay, no problem."
I went to the hospital and asked for the foreman - a Scotsman.
"Yes, it's true, we're looking for construction workers. When can you start?"
"Right away."
The work was discussed and we agreed on a date. I gave my notice at the other location on Friday and started the new job on Monday.
In my first week, I asked if they could use someone else. The foreman said yes. I told Rolf and a week later he was able to start there too. So we were both with the same employer.
The Scottish foreman later told us why he particularly liked the Swiss: "At the end of the war, there were a lot of English and Scots in Italy. Trains for England were organized and ran through Switzerland. During a short stop in Bern, without the soldiers being allowed to get off, they were fed by Swiss Red Cross ladies. He has fond memories of this.
These bungalows were built because the hospital management needed more rooms for patients.
We also heard from various employees that the company had been awarded a contract in the outback, where bungalows were also to be erected on an Aboriginal reserve. This would take several weeks or even months. It was not yet ready to go ahead. So we waited and kept our ears open.
Two nails in the foot that looked up
The construction site near the hospital was anything but tidy - quite unlike in Switzerland. There was wood, steel beams, boards and rubble everywhere. In between were large puddles of water that didn't dry properly after rain. You constantly had to be careful where you stepped.
Two workers called out to me: "Hey, can you help carry the metal stairs to the bungalow over there?" I said yes and tackled one side alone. The stairs were heavy and unwieldy. On the other side, two men grabbed it. We lifted them up - I was carrying my side at about navel height, so I could barely see the floor in front of me. We took a few steps and suddenly a brutal pain shot through my right foot. I let out a short scream, dropped the stairs to the floor with a crash and looked down.
Two long nails were sticking out of the top of my foot - they had gone right through the thin sole of my sneakers. I placed my left foot firmly on the board where the nails were sticking out and pulled my right foot out with a jerk. It immediately bled profusely, the blood ran into my shoe and across the floor.
Fortunately, the two workers helped me immediately. They supported me and I hobbled to the hospital emergency department with clenched teeth. The very first thing a doctor did there was to give me a tetanus shot. She then cleaned the wound thoroughly. She opened it up again and blew compressed air into it while saying: "It's better with air, it pushes the dirt out." It burned like hell.
The foreman had told me countless times: "Finally put on different shoes and not damn sneakers!" Now I had the receipt.
The doctor finished cleaning the wound, applied ointment and decided not to stitch it - because of the spot on my foot. Instead, she stuck a thick special plaster on it and gave me some medication and a supply of plasters. "Take care of the foot as best you can," she said.
We got the Outback job
We had contacted the foreman earlier about the outback job. He had promised to let us know as soon as something was free. A few days passed before he came to us one afternoon and said:
"You two get the Outback job. But just so you know, it's no walk in the park. Brutal heat during the day, often zero degrees or even below at night. Absolute loneliness - the nearest real town is about 300 kilometers away. No pubs, no movie theaters, nothing. The place is called Papunya and is an Aboriginal reserve. A small hamlet is currently being built there: a school under construction, a simple police station and a food depot that isn't open around the clock. Is that okay for you?"
We took a quick look at each other and both agreed. The adventure enticed us more than the warnings deterred us.
He explained the better conditions: We would be paid significantly better than in Darwin. We would work 10 hours a day, 8 hours on Saturdays. That meant 2 hours overtime every day with a 25% bonus and double pay on Saturdays. On top of that, there was an away-from-home bonus and a contribution towards food.
There would be three of us at the beginning. The foreman's name was Bob Parker. He was born in England and his parents had emigrated to Australia. His main meals almost always consisted of meat with lots of mint sauce - that was his thing. Later, another Englishman was to join him: Edy Evans, a true London cockney who specialized in such remote jobs.
Preparation work for the Outback
Bob was now given the task of preparing our small truck with us, which meant an extra barrel for water, an extra barrel for fuel, a power generator, a pickaxe and a shovel. And a very big toolbox, with every conceivable tool, a radio telephone was also included, what a big box it was. so more or less we had everything we needed to live and work in the Out Back. The travel date was announced, we had to hitch up the caravan and off we went from Darwin to Alice Springs, about 1500 km.
We had two more jobs to do for the company en route. The first was somewhere in the middle of nowhere, concreting the T-irons in the ground for the 2 future bungalows, we were told that many Aborigines would live in groups in this area, we left our caravan next to the road and went to do this work with our vehicle, I didn't see a single Aborigine, I assume that they saw us, there would also have been a "station" a few kilometers further than the small building site, in Australia they call it a station for a ranch. Cowboys in Australia call themselves "Stockmen" We spent 2 days there, drove back to the main road, hitched up the caravan and drove on
The next stop was a hamlet called Tea Tree, a gas station with a pub and around it a provisional school container on wheels, a shower-toilet facility in the container on wheels, next to it, a large caravan where the teacher lived with his wife. 2 bungalows from Sigal Industries had already been erected there. We had to do some welding work and fixings on the plinths, we lived in the caravan we had brought with us, cooked on the campfire, nice big pieces of meat that we had brought with us, in the evening to the pub where a large group of road workers, who also lived next to the road in caravans, and with their own cook, the boss of the road construction group tried to entice us away.
Tea Tree was little more than a petrol station with a pub.
There lived an old prospector in his car with his Aboriginal wife, who never entered the pub. His old car was parked at the back of the pub. He didn't talk to anyone, only to the barmaid when he ordered a beer. One evening he showed us a gold nugget half the size of a hand, carefully wrapped in cloth. I asked if he wasn't afraid I might take it away from him. He looked at me and said: " No - your eyes are honest.
He also told us the following, "thanks to her (his Aboriginal wife) I survived in the Bush"
This prospector told me the following; in short, yes, violence against Aboriginal people is historically well documented - and there were indeed cases where cash rewards were paid for killing or capturing Aboriginal people.
Rolf and I were always happy to talk to him after work, I haven't met many people like him in my life, I think they are rare to meet, with such wisdom and knowledge.
When you came to Australia as a foreigner, you heard a lot of comments about the Aborigines, and prejudices. worked for several months as a construction worker on an Aboriginal reserve.
All the prejudices I knew proved to be unfounded. There was a ban on alcohol and the women were respected. I worked in the heat, listened and learned. When I left, I was given a real boomerang - not out of politeness, but out of respect. Some of the workers did not respect the prohibition to leave the women alone, luckily they were able to leave before the end of the work, because one morning 5 Aboriginal men appeared with their swords, knives, and asked for certain men, I said they were no longer here, they did not believe me and searched everything. They had set up some tents outside our view with campfires, most of them slept outside in the sand, to sleep they made a small pile at head height as a pillow, and in this cold morning sometimes at 0 degrees. It happened that our water pools had a layer of ice from the concreting in the morning.
Maybe move the bottom to the top
After finishing our work in Tea Tree, we drove on to Alice Springs. A small, interesting and somehow crazy town. Every year there is a boat race in the dry riverbed of the Todd River - with boats on wheels or simply being carried. It's a must-see.
We were already expected at the Sigal Industries depot. The boss there immediately said: "At the moment you can't drive on to Papunya. The high water has flooded the road. First go shopping for provisions so that you have food for a few days."
We loaded up on everything that came in cans - beans, meat, vegetables, powdered milk and so on. In the afternoon, we took a break in one of the many pubs. The time we couldn't work was paid for - but not the beer in the pub, haha.
All the food we bought came in tins. We only had a small mini-fridge in the caravan. Because there was still some space on the truck, we were allowed to take a large fridge with us - a real man-sized one, with an estimated capacity of 150-180 liters.
After a few days of organizing and waiting, we were finally told: "You can go. The water has receded, the road is clear again." No highway, just a red dirt road, with lots of "corrugated iron" in places, as they say there. On some sections, you had to drive as fast as possible so that there was less shaking.
Before we set off, the depot manager explained to us in detail what the poisonous animals look like and how we should behave. "It's best to always avoid the snakes. There are also scorpions, which like to nest in empty shoes, and some poisonous spiders." He strongly recommended that we drink at least two liters of water with a salt tablet every day.
Arrival in Papunya
When we arrived in Papunya, we parked the caravan right next to the construction site. We tied it down, put the legs on the scales and set everything up. There was a borehole with a metal pipe from which we could fetch water. We also built a fire pit out of 1 cm thick sheet metal - this was to serve us for cooking all the time.
Bob Parker called the depot in Alice Springs on the radio and reported that we had arrived safely. The track was only filled with water in places.
We knew that Edy Evans would be joining us in the next few days with the first bungalow transport. Edy was the oldest member of the team and very experienced with such special, remote jobs.
First working day in Papunya
On the first day of work, we first had to clean the designated area for the bungalow. It was full of undergrowth and small bushes everywhere, so you could hardly see the wooden profiles. These profiles showed us exactly where we had to dig in the T-irons and pour the concrete.
We set fire to the area to make it clearer. Suddenly all kinds of animals ran away - including a tiger snake. It's considered highly venomous: one bite and if you don't get the antidote immediately, you can die. When I saw it, I jumped onto the roof of the vehicle in one leap. The others stood on the bridge of the truck and grinned at each other.
Tiger snakes are among the most venomous snakes in Australia. Their venom attacks nerves, muscles and blood clotting and can be fatal if left untreated. However, the animals are not particularly aggressive and usually only bite when they feel threatened. The fire had probably startled them.
The site looked really good afterwards - you could clearly see the wooden profiles again and everything was clearly laid out. We started digging the holes for the T-irons by hand. No machine, just shovel and pickaxe, at 35-40 degrees in the shade. We were allowed to take as many breaks as we needed to drink water. Alcohol was strictly forbidden while we were working.
When all the T-irons had been set and the concrete had hardened, Bob called the depot in Alice Springs again by radio telephone and reported it through.
The next day, a huge truck arrived with the first half of a bungalow. It drove right between the prepared T-irons. Because it was only one half, the factory had covered the open side with several sheets of chipboard. Once the fine desert dust is inside, you can never really get it out again - our own caravan was the best example of this. The chipboards stayed on until the second half arrived and was pushed together.
Assembling bungalows
As soon as half the bungalow was at the right height, Rolf and I hauled these huge jacks in together - they looked like oversized car jacks. Two jacks at the back, two at the front. We lifted the bungalow in rhythm. When it was high enough for the truck to drive away underneath, we slowly lowered it - again in the same rhythm - onto the prepared T-irons at all four corners.
We immediately fixed it in place with large screw clamps. When the second half arrived, both parts would be welded together to form a complete bungalow and firmly bolted together. A total of five bungalows were to stand next to each other and be connected to each other, as well as a service room. All the pipes for fresh water, waste water and electricity were already installed in the bungalow.
Once the bungalow was ready, we installed the fittings: bathroom, shower, kitchen, toilet bowl with cistern - everything was screwed in place. Then came the painting work. The bungalows were delivered with just a base coat of paint on the inside, we did the rest. The pipes for fresh water and waste water were also connected and protruded from the floor below.
To ensure that the two halves fitted together perfectly, we used a Habegger manual wire rope hoist from the HIT series. We used it to pull them together millimeter by millimeter. Fresh water pipes were marked in blue, waste water pipes in brown.
When the first bungalow was ready, Rolf and I furnished it provisionally so that we had more space. We built a table out of chipboard and a bunk bed for everyone. We got the mattresses from the caravan. Rolf then let his artistic side take over and painted a large picture directly onto the tabletop.
The other employees stayed in the caravan - the bungalow could not yet be locked. The locks hadn't arrived yet. "Scaredy-cats," we said with a grin.
A dog wanted to live with us
During this time, a dog suddenly turned up at our house. Nobody knew where it came from. It was an Australian Cattle Dog with brown and red fur and gray and white spots. Apparently he liked it here, because he never left our side. We called him "Rusty" because his coat looked like rusty iron.
He had a special quirk: as soon as we turned on the flashlight in the evening, he ran like crazy after the beam of light. He stayed with us until we had finished building. Rostig was an excellent guard. He wouldn't let anyone near us - neither strangers nor other dogs, which he chased away with bared teeth and loud growls.
At first we thought he would spend the night outside on the small porch. But that didn't suit him at all. He looked through the door into our room with sad eyes, whimpered quietly and only calmed down when we let him in. In the first few days, he always wanted to be close to Rolf or me - preferably on our self-made cot. We eventually built him his own little cot, which he proudly took possession of.
We kept asking ourselves where he had come from. There weren't many options: just the makeshift police station and the food depot, which wasn't always manned. Nobody came by to pick him up.
Rostig got food and water from us - and he seemed to like it very much.
Back to civilization
My personal impression today in the year 2025: this encouraging development makes me very happy. In the seventies, the settlement was in a pretty bad way. I am pleased to read how good people have now built something solid from the Aborigines living there. Anyone who reads the link will understand what I mean.
Weeks and months went by and we slowly saw the end of our work in Papunya. Towards the end, four more nurses joined us and moved into other small houses.
We showed them the finished bungalows. They were visibly impressed and had the technology explained to them in detail. For Bob, it was love at first sight with one of the nurses. He barely worked with us and was difficult to talk to - as if he was floating on cloud nine. Bob had really fallen in love, and I couldn't begrudge him that.
Bob gave me the job of doing some small finishing touches: Putting up the garden fence, sowing and watering the grass, small repairs to the paintwork. That was a good ten days' work for me alone. Before that, Bob, Rolf and Edy were taken away. I was supposed to drive back to Alice Springs alone with the caravan and all the materials at the end.
Once the work was done, I loaded everything up, hooked up the caravan, took enough water with me and drove off. I still had enough fuel. I was very happy to return to civilization.
back in Alice Springs
When I arrived in Alice Springs, I parked the truck, caravan and all the tools in the Sigal Industries yard. The manager and the person in charge of the depot thanked me warmly for the good work and that I had returned everything properly. We had a few beers and the manager said to me:
"I have a new job for you, if you're interested. You have four days to think it over. The company has won a big contract in Irian Jaya." (This is the western part of New Guinea, which belongs to Indonesia - the other half was still administered by Australia at the time).
Until then, I hadn't signed a contract with the company. You could have left at any time with a week's notice - which some people did. But we didn't. We had held out in the outback for several months.
"If you like it, you have to sign a contract. The work will probably take a few months. The aim is to build an entire village in the middle of the jungle so that several hundred people can work there and live with their families. The Indonesian government has discovered a huge copper deposit there. Today it is known as the Grasberg Mine. The village now has around 15,000 inhabitants and the mine itself is located at around 4,000 meters above sea level."
"Every four weeks we bring you back to civilization for a week. The pay is very good. The only thing: you have to buy one of our toolboxes. It contains practically everything you need to work independently of civilization."
"Good Albrecht, think about it and let me know in four days."
The depot manager told me that Rolf had moved into the YMCA. I moved there too and got a bed in a dormitory with six beds. Rolf greeted me and I immediately said: "How can you sleep here with these bums?"
He replied dryly: "Sleeping is saying a lot. Most of the night you can only sleep with one eye, you have to watch what's going on with the other." One resident of this room was repeatedly picked up by others. There is nothing more to report.
The manager of the YMCA, about 45 years old, walked around all day in a pink short robe and pink slippers. He never failed to bend over briefly in our presence so that everyone could see his backside.
In Alice Springs, we met up with a couple of young Australians who wanted to drive to Ayers Rock (Uluru) and the Olgas. The five of us rented a large American car and set off.
Drive to Uluru (Ayers Rock) and the Olgas
Once there, the first thing we did was climb Ayers Rock - now Uluru and, as an Aboriginal sanctuary, forbidden to tourists. Then we looked for a place to make a fire and set up a place to sleep. We ate something, the fire was burning and we noticed that there were a lot of mice there.
One of them said dryly: "If there are so many mice, the snakes won't be long in coming."
Suddenly, no one wanted to sleep outside. Four of us squeezed into the car and I climbed into the large trunk and slept there. In the morning we had a quick coffee, then drove on to the Olgas (Kata Tuta) - an impressive, very special rock formation. We didn't climb all the domes and then decided to take it in turns to drive back to Alice Springs for price reasons (car rental).
The other four couldn't stand driving for long - they were all tired and fell asleep sitting in the car. And lo and behold: who drove practically the whole way? Albrecht. The others just wanted to take a nap. At some point, I raised my voice and said: "Listen up, you lazybones! If you don't want to drive, at least talk to me so I don't fall asleep too!"
It ended well. We arrived back in Alice Springs late in the evening. The route is about 400 kilometers and takes a good 5 hours - partly over unpaved red earth.
What next on our journey?
We still had a few days left in Alice Springs. The first thing I did was go to the bank to find out the status of my account. The employee came back and wrote an amount in Australian dollars on a piece of paper. It looked really good. She asked if I wanted to withdraw it. I replied that I would come by in the next few days as soon as I knew where I was going.
She smiled and made a crack, "Are you taking me on this trip?" I smiled back politely.
Now it was time to seriously consider what to do next. It was clear to both of us: we wanted to go to South America. So we went to a travel agency and asked if there was a flight from Sydney to Santiago de Chile. The employee said: "There are no direct flights to South America from Sydney. You have to fly to Los Angeles first and then on to Panama City, for example." The price was very high.
Next question: "Are there boat connections to Chile?" - "No."
Our idea was to drive to Chile and from there travel from south to north through South America. At that moment, an older gentleman came out from behind a wall - I assume it was the owner. He made the following suggestion:
"There is a shipping company that runs a scheduled service from England every month, sailing around South Africa to Perth and Sydney. From Sydney it goes back to England via Wellington, Tahiti, Panama, Aruba, Vigo and England."
"But we don't want to go back to Europe just yet."
"Where are you going?"
"To South America."
"No problem. You board the ship in Sydney, travel via Wellington and Tahiti and disembark in Panama."
Good idea, Rolf and I thought. He pulled out a large book. The company was called Chandris Line and was Greek-owned. It was a passenger ship. He started doing the math, looked at the various timetables and finally gave us a price that fitted well into our budget. The crossing would take 14 days, with full board. He grinned and said: "You only have to pay for the drinks yourself - but don't worry, they're duty-free."
In the meantime, Rolf also knew how much money was in his account. We asked him to think about it for a few days. As we were saying goodbye, he said: "Why don't you go to the Hootenanny tomorrow Saturday?"
"What's that?"
"More or less a country evening. Countless stockmen (cowboys) usually come too. There's good music and plenty of beer."
So we dressed up on Saturday evening - freshly shaved and perfumed - and went there.
Country evening with brawls and flying teeth
As soon as I approached the huge church hall, I had the feeling that there was electricity in the air. A few men were already jostling and it didn't take much for it to start. We paid the entrance fee. I said to Rolf: "There's a balcony up there. I'd better go up there at the moment, I have a feeling there could be a fight in a minute." Not that I was afraid, but I followed my father's advice, always avoid such incidents if possible, and if there's no other way, do it right.
From the top, I had a good view of the many people - there were also many friendly women there. The music was playing, there was dancing and laughter. In between, prizes were handed out for a competition. The atmosphere was pleasant ... until suddenly a spark was ignited. First the fists flew - clearly too much testosterone in the blood. Then some teeth flew through the air, and finally there was blood.
Suddenly there were about 20 police officers in the room. One, two, three - and the brawl was over. After that, you could enjoy a really nice evening of dancing. I came back to the YMCA sometime in the morning.
Farewell to the outback and onward journey to Sydney
I had one last meeting with the regional manager to tell him what I was going to do. My decision had actually already been made when I saw the amount in my bank account. I met Michael Hogg - that was his name - and told him that I had decided against the project in Irian Jaya and would be moving on. He was about 40 years old and said regretfully: "Too bad, I wish you a good time anyway."
Over the next few days, we went back to the travel agency to make our decision official and book our passage on the Chandris Line. We still had plenty of time before we had to arrive in Sydney.
The Dreamtime Wanderer
In Alice Springs, we met up once again with our former foreman Bob Parker as well as the filmmaker Bruno Scrobogna and Karin, the nurse from Papunya. Bruno was called "The Dreamtime Wanderer". He often traveled to Papunya to make films about the Aboriginal Dreamtime. He also wrote several books documenting this time. He always lived in his VW bus together with all his film material.
We always had very good and interesting conversations with him - especially about his time in the German army during the war and afterwards in the French Foreign Legion. We asked him for his address and telephone number in Sydney. He gave us both. Later in Sydney, we tried to contact him several times, but neither the address nor the phone number were correct. Maybe he wanted to hide something - we didn't look for him any further. He certainly had his reasons. We continued on our own way.
Coober Pedy - Living underground
So we said goodbye to the Northern Territory, Papunya and Alice Springs. We traveled south by bus, past Coober Pedy with its countless opal mines. Many former mines had been converted into large underground apartments where the miners and their families lived at a constant temperature.
We continued via Port Augusta to Adelaide. There I noticed that there were still some very old streetcars and many well-preserved old houses from a different era in the city center.
After a short stay, the journey continued to Melbourne. I was particularly impressed by the harmonious interplay of old and new buildings in this city. It was impressive how well the old had been preserved. There were also large parks with very wide cycle paths.
We finally reached Sydney via Canberra - with the famous Opera House, which we visited, as well as Bondi Beach and the Harbour Bridge. Of course, we also paid a visit to Oxford Street.
Many nightclubs on Oxford Street
There were countless nightclubs, wine & dance bars and similar venues everywhere. After arriving by bus, we first looked for cheap accommodation. The youth hostel was fully booked. The manager recommended the YMCA. I wasn't exactly thrilled, but our budget didn't leave us much choice.
Once there, we took a room for two. The manager showed us the shower and toilet - both were in the corridor. What a surprise: the showers had no doors and neither did the toilets. I immediately said to Rolf: "I'll stay here for the time being, but I'll look around for other accommodation." You constantly had the feeling that dozens of pairs of eyes were watching while you were showering or using the toilet. What a mess.
Work in a nightclub in Sydney & trip to New Zealand
A few days passed in Sydney and we quickly realized that this big city was an expensive place. We still had about five weeks until the ship sailed. I was looking for work - preferably with accommodation. Rolf was of the same opinion.
Rolf quickly found a job with accommodation in a wine bar (not yet as well known as it is today). I looked through the classified ads and discovered an advertisement for a man to do all kinds of work in a nightclub.
I phoned and went by in the afternoon. The owner of the nightclub near Oxford Street told me that it was only for about 2-3 weeks because the previous man had suffered a minor injury. The work was varied: doorman, checking the guests' clothes, keeping the place tidy. The owner definitely didn't want any singing - he apparently had a real allergy to singing.
When all the guests had left, I had to collect all the ashtrays, empty them and wash them in a separate bucket. Remove the unclean tablecloths and replace them with clean ones. Mop up the worst of the floor. In the course of the morning, a woman came to vacuum properly. I also took all the empty bottles to the depot and filled the cupboards and fridges with new bottles. The rest of the dishes were cleaned by the waiters and waitresses.
I usually finished work around 3 o'clock in the morning. The pay was small, but I had a tiny room with a bed on the second floor and was allowed to take food from the fridge, which suited me very well - I had really had enough of the YMCA. I was promised work and accommodation for 2-3 weeks. I thought to myself: What am I going to do after that? Look for a new job again?
Then I had an idea: I still have three weeks until the ship - why don't I fly to New Zealand? At Rolf's Wine Bar, it looked like he had work until embarkation. I went to the travel agent, showed my ship's ticket and asked if I could board in Wellington instead. It was no problem, they said. I got some of the money back and bought a plane ticket to Auckland with the rest plus some of my own.
I went to Rolf and told him the plan. We agreed that I would get back on in Wellington. After exactly three weeks, the injured worker came back and I was able to leave. I received the agreed salary every week. I already had the plane ticket to Auckland with me.
I took the bus to the airport. Flight Sydney-Auckland.
Re-Entry Visa for Australia
Before I left Australia, I obtained a **Re-Entry Permit** from the immigration authorities. My return to Australia was tied to this permit at the time. It was valid for one year. This meant that if I re-entered within this time, I did not need to apply for a new migration visa.
A few months after I returned to Switzerland, I received a letter from the Australian embassy in Bern. It said that I would get money back from overpaid taxes. I was told to send a copy of my passport and provide an account. A few days later, I had a few hundred francs in my account. In my entire life, I have never received money back from a tax authority - but Australia did!