Porongurup, it's us again

Going back to Nic, Scottie and Emerson's place is a bit like coming home after a long absence. You're super happy to get there, you make yourself at home because you remember where everything is but there are always little things that have changed. It only takes a few hours for Em to be completely at ease with us. The little man is so chatty compared to last year and he is still very much in love with his trampoline.

Unsurprisingly miles of fences need repair and improvement. Seven cows queue to be milked each morning (the ewes are off for the summer and the next lambs will come late autumn) and we separate the calves in the evening. We also look after Andrew, the little orphaned lamb who eagerly awaits for his bottle every four hours.

Two extra mouths to feed (us...), there is no way that we let the crows raid the chicken coop. We barricade the pen with netting to prevent any egg theft. Tomatoes endlessly fall from the sky: Roro is in the kitchen to transform them into delicious tomato sauce while Bibi assembles a life-size sheep (a piece of art perhaps) for Nic's birthday. Then comes the project of building a shady green walkway and rearranging the workshop (an expert version of a real tetris).

The Mentos, our coach, is too big to go back to Belgium with us. It's so beautiful and well equipped that there is a bit of competition to be the first buyer. In no time at all, we are pedestrians! But it will continue to have great adventures with an Australian woman who is going to pick mangoes soon. It's with a tent and Nic and Scottie's ute that we go for a last trip to Two People's Bay and Denmark.

On the "establish my future life" wave, Roro gets a job at the "local action group" in Libramont to boost local agriculture two weeks before our return while Bibi (on the "a bit less" wave) expands his network by participating to a 48h open data hackathon.

After this intense professional week, the days are numbered. Um, what can we buy with the money from the mentos? We run through the various shops and market stalls to get as many souvenirs as possible. We spend our last night under the stars. Fact to be confirmed, is the milky way whiter on a dairy farm?

Our last Australian adventure is to reach Perth airport on Sunday with our huge luggage. Public transport is impractical on Sundays. The plane on a domestic flight doesn't appreciate our 60kgs of souvenirs. The rental car costs an arm and a leg because we drop it off in a different location. Therefore we leave notes in the local cafes and on gumtree for carpooling. Since nothing shows up, we go back to the rental car, we have to go and pick it up Saturday at 9am. At 8.40am, we receive a message from a certain Dave who offers to bring his car to Perth tomorrow. Timing is so perfect that it's almost suspicious, but in a hurry we go to his house to see the car. If it's a drug deal, it's well hidden: it's a tiny car dating from 1998, which never goes over 95km/h. The advantage of driving at this speed, in such a light vehicle, is that we hardly burn any petrol. The cranberry (its little nickname found by Nic) takes us slowly but surely to Perth for a last swim in the Indian Ocean before dropping it off to its future owner. A taxi to the airport, some forms to fill in for covid and here we are, back in Belgium, ready for more adventures!