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Now I will tell you briefly about what triggered us into leaving our old habitat of the cold and rugged North and what made us travel all the way across the planet to make a living for ourselves Down Under. At first my father was building a house all by himself (or so I had myself imagining), heaving away at huge rocks and boulders all day long to clear our property from rubble. Then gradually, as one wall after the other was in place and everything seemed to be going according to plans, something quite out of the ordinary dumped down on us. What happened was that we met with some nice people who had just moved into a neighboring apartment and who gave us a piece of advise by explaining: "Now listen to us! We've got a  far better suggestion to offer! Leave this place and come follow us down to Australia!" And so one year later we packed all our belongings in  wooden trunks which dad had put together and boarded that little Danish cargo ship which soon took us on the biggest adventure of our lives.


 
Me and my little brother looking on to the un- expected, this photo taken in 1960 or 61.


   
Well on our way we were enthralled by many wonderful places such as this churchyard with gigantic mausoleums in Genoa, Italy and further down our water way when landing at the Egyptian harbor of Port Said where myriads of vendors came climbing up rope ladders and chased us around the decks trying to sell us all kinds of trinkets and cheep souvenirs. Then gradually after gliding down the Suez, we entered the Red sea where we embarked with the docks of Aden for a day or two before the final leap across the great blue expanse of the Indian ocean. Along our way, we met with shoals of dolphins which came trailing alongside of our ship and sometimes we even spotted flying fish which soared above the waves almost like birds on the wing.


Dad still toiling away at those rocks and boulders on the building site just as the news came around of a land of milk and honey on the opposite side of the Earth.


The young Lindahl family leaving all their relatives be- hind, both young and old, cousins, uncles, aunts as well as grandparents.



Happy smiling faces on the pass control photos taken just prior to the launch of our great transfer.




Then finally arriving at Fremantle and ending up on our good friends Immelmans' farm in Kwinana where we got acquainted to all kinds of creatures such as the pet parrot "Cocky" (shown on this image), but also to horses, goats, dogs, cats, geese, ducks, poultry and even spiders. Yes they had one really huge one called "Charley", which hung in a mighty web right in front of the back porch where we had to get in and out each and every day. But for the most of it, our departure from the deep frozen north felt like a long, wonderful holiday and was like a blessing to us all.


  

And so we had arrived to the promised land of milk and honey, or more precisely to  the land  of double  gees and spinifex (ouch), of "cobbers" and "sheilas", "walkabouts" and "billabongs", "crikey" and "strewth", "she'll be right mate" and "no worries, you can't miss it"! All the way from the deep freeze of the North we came into this happy go lucky part of the world not half knowing what to expect but for the most of it blessed with joy over what we found.



Here is yours truly in 1961 pulling a wooden cart with our best friends' little daughter and their beautiful kelpy (half dingo) Misha seated in with the ride.



 
First we lived in Cottesloe in western Perth where the breakers of the ocean could be heard for miles around, almost like the rumbling of an earthquake, but soon we moved to a bigger house in the neighboring and ever so slightly posh suburb of Peppermint grove. Here is a view of Swan river where we often went swimming in the warm, tranquil but jellyfish infested waters. It was here on a gray and windy winters day that I first learned how to swim under the kindly supervision of the school in- structors and their team.
 

Now here is a little wallaby kangaroo which we got the opportunity to study on a farm way out in the bush somewhere. Hope you can see it! This photo is a bit blurry but still...
       
And here am I trying out a bow and arrow while little brother Åke is attempting to load one of the local cats into his wooden lorry which dad had constructed for him a year earlier and by the looks of it,  treating the poor pussy as if it were just a bag of flower!


 
Our favorite spot for a splash in the waves was undoubtedly Cottesloe beach where the ocean breakers gave us a good opportunity to exercise body surfing, even though I bet our parents weren't all that amused on those occasions when the rips were exceptionally strong. Sometimes sharks had been spotted to be swimming right next to the beach when all hell broke lose with airplanes up above and men in boats chasing the vermins with  harpoons raised up in the air. Anyway, as I remember it, there was an incident like that right outside the pier of the central Cottesloe beach, all ending quite successfully with no one turning into shark food on that occasion!




And here are the same two brothers from Sweden hav- ing the time of their lives, not worrying about sharks or getting pulled away by rips or being exposed by too much ultra violet radiation.

Even though I may be exaggerating just a bit, in those sunny far away days of Western Australia, life was quite uncomplicated and people were generally so friendly, helpful and carefree. Things were a lot slower then and the atmosphere relaxed in comparison with how it's become  these days with the technical revolution and automation going on everywhere in our society (at least here in the West).



This is a photo of me with my darling pussycat "Tus- se" (or "Musse"), this shot taken in 1962 in Peppermint grove. At each and every house we moved into we were gifted with a new cat, all of them receiving Swedish nicknames by us the tenants.



And this is Leek street, Peppermint grove, facing the street, with Tusse doing her famous cat walk and me getting ready to be caught by the lens.


In the backyard at Lyon street, Cottesloe, dad fixes and mends things on his woodwork bench while little brother Åke is playing around in the grass. The Australian crows hiding in the Eucalyptus trees do sound almost like sheep and the cuckaborough sitting high on its limb is laughing its head off, or so it seems!






Likewise, this is Lyon street, Cottesloe with yours truly slumped down on the front porch where the milkman leaves his bottles every morning and dad fixing something in the garden (to the right).

                                                              
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