Australia, my new home

car was my pride and joy and I washed it regularly every Saturday.

My social life also improved with the car. I soon took out another girl and we went to several parties. I remember going with her to one party where we had to bring our own drinks. As I had been given a bottle of whisky for Christmas, I took that to the party just for the two of us. Cynthia only had a couple of glasses, and by the time the evening was over, the bottle was empty. I took her home and drove the car over the Sydney Harbour bridge back to Mosman, when I got violently sick. I parked the car in its proper place and went to bed, but next morning I couldn't remember how I got home, nor that I crossed the Harbour Bridge. There was a complete blank. I could have almost sworn that I had never gone out that night, had it not been for the smelly evidence in the car. It took all morning to clean it up. Since then I have never touched whisky again.

At another party I met Rainer Volk, a young German about my own age. We seemed to click immediately, and before long we discussed the possibility of renting a house together. My sister Gerda had written that she would like to come out to visit me after finishing her leaving certificate. So we needed a house with three bed rooms, but all we could find at the price we could afford was a two-bedroom house. The lounge was large enough, however, to be converted to the third bedroom, and so we decided to rent No.11 Mudies Road, St.Ives for two years.

Gerda arrived in September of 1957, soon after we had rented the house. It was wonderful for me to have someone from the family around again, and we got on quite well. Gerda loved cooking, which I did not, and so she offered to do the cooking, and I agreed to do all the cleaning up afterwards. Rainer was going to clean the house once a week.

The house had a dining room, which we used as our lounge/dining room, with a sofa where visitors could sleep. This became very handy, as I had made another friend at the YMCA, George Blome, who one day arrived on our door steps with no where to stay. "Of course, you can stay here in our lounge, George," we all agreed, and George made himself comfortable. I very much enjoyed our long hours talking together, and breakfasts on the back verandah in the sun in the middle of winter. George had a spiritual depth which I missed in Rainer. One day George came home in the evening.

"You should have been there, Dieter," he said, "You would have enjoyed it."

"Where, did you go, George?" "To Church in Pymble. I discovered a terrific minister. He has a wonderful sense of humour. I'm sure you would like him."

"Which church did you go to?" "The Presbyterian Church." The following Sunday we both went together to the evening service. I sure liked The Rev. Robert MacArthur, and from that time on I hardly

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