Sea Change Story Snippet
It Happened in the Seventies, a Sea-Change story of personal risk-taking, self-discovery, and profound change.
Snippet - Arriving in Sydney
Stepping out of the plane, we were handed little pin buttons, tokens of our immigrant status. We were amazed at how easy it was to step onto Australian soil, so to speak, while still walking on the airport concrete floor towards the customs officers.
“Do you have an address to go to?” the officer asked.
“Yes,” we chorused, showing John’s address.
“Welcome to Australia,” he smiled. And that was it: we were officially and legally in Australia.
We kept looking over our shoulders, but no one was following us. We were two among many tourists. They didn’t even check our suitcases. Being used to Germany’s bureaucracy, we still suspected some paperwork would be thrown at us any minute now. But nothing; we were free to go. Now what?
Maybe we should grab something to eat. “Are you hungry?” I asked. Giselle had spotted a counter where food items were sold.
“Let’s have a look,” she suggested. We saw a food item we were not accustomed to, called a meat pie. But we settled for something more familiar and ordered a couple of sausages. We should have tried the pies; it couldn’t have been any worse. One bite was enough: the taste had nothing in common with a German sausage. From that day forward, as long as we were in Australia, we never searched for a sausage again.
Time to venture out, leaving the security of the airport. With each step we took, we felt our level of excitement rising. Dragging our suitcases to the taxi stand, we were confronted with questions we didn’t understand: we guessed he asked where we wanted to go.
“Did you understand anything he was saying?” I asked Giselle.
”A little bit; it’s the mumbling we don’t get,” she responded.
Fortunately, Giselle’s English was better than mine: I could only hope my ears would adapt quickly. Australian English sounded nothing like what I had learnt. I handed the driver our piece of paper with the address. He said something which must have been 'No worries’ or 'She’ll be right, mate', phrases we both learnt quickly and off we went, faces pressed to the taxi window so we wouldn’t miss any part of this alien world we were entering for the first time.
“Look, look, the ocean!” shouted Giselle, pointing in front of us. Later we learnt that this was the famous Bondi Beach.
John and Ann lived a little further along the coast in Rose Bay, a slightly more affluent suburb. They had bought an old house, which they were busy renovating.
Unloading our suitcases and paying off the driver, we survived our first hour in Australia. The sun was shining; the air was pleasantly warm, and it was springtime. We walked through a rusty iron gate towards the open front door. We knocked, “Halloo!”
Book snippet from: It Happened in the Seventies - Sea Change story