M. Beisenherz: Sorry, I’m here privately
Cockroaches, how time flies: Finally back in the bush
© Illustration: Dieter Braun/stern
After a three-year hiatus, our columnist discovers the grace of the banal in the Australian jungle. Can there be more escapism than a camp full of semi-celebrities who have been successfully denying their own reality for years?
By Mickey Beisenherz
Who would have thought that the sentence “Martin Semmelrogge landed safely in Australia” would calm the nation down so much, at least parts of it. But one after anonther.
Three years ago, I was sitting on a dune near our hotel with my friend Oliver, looking out to sea and thinking, “Who knows, this might be the last time we’re going to sit here.” Where did this defeatism come from?
Already at the beginning of 2020, the world was missing a lot of reliability: Trump, Brexit, Bolsonaro. At least this facial expression-free Putin seemed predictable. “He won’t…”
In France, Notre-Dame had just been extinguished when the monkeys in the Krefeld zoo were on fire because three women thought it would be a great idea to let forbidden Chinese lights go up – and then the Australian continent was immediately inflamed. Which didn’t stop RTL from holding the jungle camp not far from the source of the fire, because, well, the respectful waiver of kangaroo flute Olympics doesn’t put out a single fire.
A certain Karl Lauterbach was one of the prominent critics of the bush banalities at the time. This was soon to rise to unprecedented pandemic prominence as, at the same time as our roach festival in Murwillumbah, on the other side of the world, someone chose bat soup over a Big Mac. The rest is well known and some people are still involved in the cardiovascular system.
In the supermarket here in the neighboring village, everything is as I left it three years ago. Only a small basket with disposable masks at the checkout is still reminiscent of the global pause button that had dominated our lives. Entry to Down Under is no longer subject to any restrictions. No test, no health certificate, no proof of vaccination. This is remarkable in that a year ago Novak Djokovic was stuck in an Australian hotel because he dared to enter the Australian Open without being vaccinated.
The jungle camp is back in Australia
Back then on that dune I certainly had no idea what was lurking over the horizon. Could I expect to be back on a broad beach when so many other team members have already been surprisingly torn from our midst over the years?
Manny, Robert, Kyle, Dickie. Did it ever occur to you that you would not be with us today and, my God, could you have imagined what you would be missing out on? Pandemic! Putin! Prince Harry!
Jungle camp 2023
Did you know everyone? These are the stars for Australia
The most unexciting thing about our time is now the development steps between the iPhone and its new successor. You wouldn’t have thought so either. That’s why good old escapism comes into play. Can there be more escapism than a camp full of umlaut celebrities who have been successfully denying their own reality for years? All of this in an area so far from melting glaciers and cold, wet Berlin streets full of firecrackers.
As a viewer, I don’t have to decide whether I’m for or against heavy weapons. The only things that decide are sympathy, diligence or – also an important skill – that someone doesn’t get on your nerves. And that’s worth a lot in times when everything and everyone is somehow stressful. Banal Grande. Nice to be back.