Australia, my new home

"As soon as possible." "Anywhere?"

"As long as I can reach it by public transport." "There is one at St.Peters. Hardie Rubber stores. I have just phoned them. They pay the basic wage, which gives you about £13 per week after tax. Turn up there on Monday morning 8 am and see a Mr.Ryan. This is the address."

He gave me a slip of paper with the name of the firm, the name of the store manager and the full address. I had no idea where St.Peters was, nor how to get there, but I had time to find out. From the Boarding House I would need to catch the tram to Central Station, and a train from there to St.Peters. From there I had to walk for 15 minutes to get to the stores.

Hardie Rubber rented the premises, former wool stores, for their car and truck tyres. I had to learn the different sizes of tyres, different ply, and to wheel them on the floor, usually four abreast, sometimes even six or more, and that was not so easy. At first I made a terrible mess of it. They went all over the floor, I just couldn't keep them together. But I learnt. As I was the youngest, I had to buy lunches for everybody in the team. They asked for food I had never heard of, like pasty, pies, sausage rolls, and fish and chips. I took an immediate liking to the apple pies and cream. Also meat pies.

The workers spoke in rough Australian, interspersed by the inevitable swear word. That too was new to me, but I never took it on myself. I felt it showed a lack of manners and was due, probably in some cases to a poor knowledge of English, apart from being quite unnecessary. The fact that I came from Germany did not seem to bother anyone. People have always been friendly to me and I never felt discriminated against, even in those early days.

Everybody seemed to be looking forward to Fridays knocking-off time. It didn't take me long to find out that they all went to a pub for a binge. They asked me to join them, but I never liked the idea and I felt free enough to say 'no thanks'.

On the first Thursday I went to the YMCA to meet a Werner Fredericks. Frau Gould had given me his name before we left the ship. He was a member of the International Friendship Club, one of the groups of the YMCA. I met him, and since the club met every Thursday, I stayed behind and joined the group. There was another German there, a number of Greeks, some Italians, one English, and the rest of them were Australians. It was a good mix of male and female, mostly under 30s. They had a regular programme, and some activities for the weekends. This was great, as the weekends were often dragging on with nothing much to do.

I quickly made some friends, and I hardly ever missed out a meeting or a weekend away. Especially enjoyable were the camps at Yarramundi, in the Grose valley, owned by the YMCA. It had great facilities for swimming, canoeing, hiking, volley ball and a large hall for indoor

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