Robyn DavidsonKirja-arvosteluja

Quando Robyn Davidson, accompagnata solo dai suoi quattro cammelli Dookie, Bub, Zelekeia e Goliath, oltre che suo fedelissimo cane Diggity, pensò ed intraprese l’avventura che le avrebbe totalmente cambiato la vita, aveva soli ventisette anni. Partì dalla cittadina australiana di Alice Spring, ombelico del Northern Territory, ed attraversò l’inospitale, ardente, infinito e rosso outback aussie (1.700 miglia, ossia oltre 2.730 km), sino a raggiungere Hamelin Pool sulle rive dell’Oceano indiano dove, con un bagno di gruppo (donna, cammelli e cane), diede la benedizione alla fine della sua grande avventura. Era il 1977.

Va da sé che, quando anche io giovanissimo partii per un lungo viaggio in Australia, poco più di 30 anni fa, quell’impresa quasi esplorativa compiuta da una giovane donna fu per me molto stimolante, tanto da farmi sopportare il lungo volo a prezzo scontato (con l’allora compagnia di bandiera jugoslava) sulla tratta Milano - Zagabria- Dubai - Kuala Lumpur - Melbourne, cui aggiunsi, per non farmi mancare nulla, un voletto su Perth. Roba da sfidare la trombosi venosa profonda, tanto fu il tempo che trascorsi seduto. Tempo che però mi consentì di divorare il racconto dell’impresa di Robyn Davidson, libro uscito all’epoca nella collana Ornitorinco diretta da Ippolito Pizzetti con il titolo di “Tracce” (Rizzoli, 1984, traduzione Benedetta Bini), successivamente ridata alle stampe con il titolo di “Orme” (Feltrinelli, 1994) a conferma di quanto, nell’ambito della narrativa di viaggio e non solo, questo diario avventuroso, a tratti fortemente intimista, rappresenta certamente un punto di riferimento.

“Entrai in uno spazio, in un tempo, in una dimensione completamente nuovi. Mille anni si comprimevano in un giorno e ogni mio passo durava secoli. Le querce del deserto sospiravano e si chinavano su di me, come se avessero voluto afferrarmi. Le dune andavano e venivano, sempre uguali. Le colline si innalzavano verso il cielo, e poi scivolavano dolcemente in basso. Le nuvole ondeggiavano nel cielo, sparivano, ritornavano di nuovo. E sempre la strada la strada la strada la strada.” (da Tracce” di Robyn Davidson).

L’avventura della Davidson restò impressionata nella pellicola di Rick Smolan, fotografo del National Geographic, che la seguì, non senza difficoltà, nel corso di alcune tappe del suo viaggio, dopo averla incontrata ed essere riuscito a procurarsi il finanziamento necessario all’impresa attraverso la sua testata. Durante il suo viaggio, la giovanissima Davidson ha affrontato molteplici difficoltà: la disidratazione, la malattia dei suoi amati cammelli, l'avvelenamento del suo fedele cane e più di tutto le intrusioni di persone curiose che non la lasciavano tranquilla come lei avrebbe desiderato. Non ultimo tra i problemi, se così li vogliamo chiamare, anche la gestione degli incontri concordati per realizzare il reportage (davvero pochi in verità) con lo stesso Smolan, che finì per provare un senso di protezione e di affetto per la giovane esploratrice. Quando Smolan intercettò i rumors secondo cui Robyn s’era persa nel deserto, corse dall'Asia all'Australia per rintracciarla, trascinando involontariamente con sé una folla di altri giornalisti smaniosi di avere notizie. Inutile dire che la Davidson era furiosa.

Quegli scatti sarebbero stati pubblicati a complemento di un articolo che National Geographic dedicò all’avventura nel grande deserto australiano a fine impresa, nove mesi dopo la partenza, nel 1978. Da quel lungo articolo germogliò l’idea, nella testa della protagonista, di raccontare in prima persona, non solo il viaggio in quanto tale, ma anche e soprattutto il senso di ciò che aveva fatto, gli incontri, le emozioni. Nel 1993 poi, trova corpo la prima idea di trasposizione cinematografica che addirittura vide Julia Roberts firmare per la parte, ma il progetto non si concretizzò e rimase latente sino al 2012 quando “Track attraverso il deserto” diretto da John Curran, con Mia Wasikowska nella parte della protagonista, arrivò nelle sale e fu proiettato in concorso al Festival di Venezia, al Toronto International Film Festival e al London Film Festival. Scrivo tutto ciò per sottolineare la presa che questo diario australiano ebbe sui lettori.

Il tema del viaggio, quello che classifica la partenza come “senza bagaglio”, ancor più attraverso una scrittura femminile, è stato oggetto di interessanti approfondimenti, qualche articolo e persino una bella tesi di laurea di Anna Mattiello che credo meriti di essere citata. Soprattutto perché svela uno di quegli intrecci magici nella letteratura: ad Alice Spring l’autrice di “Tracce” (o “Orme” se preferite) incontra Bruce Chatwin (icona della letteratura di viaggio insieme a Paul Theroux e Peter Matthiessen) e lo alfabetizza alla cultura degli aborigeni australiani aprendogli la mente a quel mondo, perfettamente in sincrono con l’idea del viaggio nomade e interiore, che Chatwin esprimerà al meglio nel suo “La via dei Canti” del 1987. E a sua volta Chatwin presenta a Robyn Davidson un vecchio amico che di nome fa Salman Rushdie e che con l’autrice avrà una relazione sentimentale, ma anche letteraria, tanto che Rushdie la trasporrà nel personaggio di Alleluia Cone, alpinista energica, vitale, motivata alla conquista dell’Everest in solitaria, il tutto all’interno delle pagine del suo controverso “I Versi satanici” del 1988.

Nonostante ciò, Robyn Davidson si racconta nel suo “Tracce” non come lo stereotipo dell’eroina coraggiosa che sfida preconcetti ed eventi, ma come una giovane donna che cerca un’avventura ed una dimensione assolutamente praticabili, di sicuro non un viaggio impossibile. Ella ci offre, attraverso il suo racconto, l’idea di un itinerario geografico, fisico, mentale con cui ci si può misurare senza sfoggiare doti da super eroi. Un viaggio non privo di difficoltà, ma certamente percorribile. Nel fare ciò si colloca, con questo suo diario esperienziale, nel solco dei narratori che raccontano l’Australia non solo come spazio fisico, ma anche in quella dimensione più spirituale che è parte della cultura aborigena australe e di quel senso di nomadismo delle piste del sogno che calamitano l’origine del paesaggio australiano e della sua mitologia. Nel farlo scardina anche l’idea, consolidata nel tempo, che la narrativa di viaggio sia un genere prettamente maschile, pregno di quel machismo coloniale e imperialista legato alla conquista, più che alla scoperta.

L’esperienza raccontata è dunque immersiva. Obbliga l’autrice a confrontarsi non solo con le difficoltà incontrate lungo il percorso, di cui ci offre oggettiva rendicontazione, ma soprattutto con se stessa, con il suo lato emotivo, riscoprendone la parte più spirituale e trasformando l’avventura del cammino in una sorta di terapia in cui mette a nudo i suoi pensieri e da cui trarre la forza per superare le difficoltà. Lo fa a partire dalla fatica del viaggio, dalla complessità organizzativa, dall’idea di una simbiosi con la natura che la mette a confronto con la cura e l’allevamento dei cammelli scelti come compagni di viaggio. Cui si aggiunge un ambiente ostile, desertico, dove la polvere e la calura la accompagnano ad ogni passo.

A tutto questo si aggiunge la necessità, e il racconto lo fa ben emergere, di elaborare l’idea di una partenza “senza bagagli” o senza fardelli, di una sorta di non ritorno (ma sarebbe meglio parlare di ritorno non programmato come accade con un biglietto aereo) in cui si può solo guardare avanti a sé, senza un calcolo preciso del tempo che servirà per arrivare. Anche se, una volta raggiunta la meta, il tema del ritorno torna però a farsi concreto, anche se non sarà più il tornare al punto di partenza inteso come un going back ad una coordinata che intreccia latitudine e longitudine, ma il ricollocarsi in una dimensione umana, interiore e sociale di cui il viaggio ci ha spogliati completamente, giocoforza accompagnati da una nuova dimensione del tempo. Aggiungo che tutto ciò deve aver funzionato nel caso di Robyn Davidson: dal 1990 e per due anni, ha vissuto con alcuno nomadi dell’India settentrionale (“Desert Place”, 1996) ed ha poi proseguito la sua ricerca sul nomadismo nei grandi altipiani del Tibet.

Brucia la pelle, bruciano i piedi. Millesettecento miglia sono un numero infinito inversamente proporzionale al tempo che si dilata e come in un paradosso temporale rende il cammino immensamente lento. Tutto, nel racconto dell’autrice e viaggiatrice è scandito da ogni singolo passo, un piedi innanzi all’altro. E ogni passo è un fotogramma che la Davidson ci dipinge, scorgendo in questo movimento al rallentatore dettagli sorprendenti fuori e dentro di sé. Tutto per insegnarci che i sogni talvolta sono realizzabili, basta volerlo veramente, basta affrontare con forza di volontà il primo passo, ignorando cosa gli altri pensano di te e del tuo sogno, perché è solo superando i propri confini visibili che sarà possibile espandere la propria coscienza.

Pubblicato su: https://www.territoridicarta.com/blog/sulle-tracce-di-robyn-davidson-una-donna-q...
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

I had watched the movie first; the book is better and fills in many of the details the movie couldn't or wouldn't address. The author makes it painfully clear that, at the time of writing, the culture viewed the Aborigines as an inferior race. Ms. Davidson expresses her continuous self-doubt almost every step of the way but continues on despite this internal struggle. She provides wonderful descriptions of the incredible landscape she is privileged to travel through and the helpful people she encounters along the way.

3.5 stars.½

Pretty good travel book about wandering camel tribes in India. Not quite as good as Tracks. She found India fascinating but very frustrating because of all the crowds and language barrier, etc.

Good first person account of Robyn Davidson's trek across Western Australia with camels. Also has good musings about courage, psychology, Aborigine rights, etc. I found and read this right after I saw the new movie about her (2013).

Non-fiction about Robyn Davidson’s 1977-1978 trip across the Australian desert, accompanied by four camels and a dog. During this trip, she developed capabilities she did not know she possessed as she crossed over 1700 miles, mostly by walking and occasionally riding one of the camels. She started her trip in Alice Springs and ended at the Indian Ocean. Along the way, she interacts with various people, animals, and pests.

Filled with novelties such as:
- How to train your camel
- What it’s like to own a pet crow (not recommended!)
- Surviving in the Australian Outback

And more traditional themes such as:
- A woman confronting a machismo culture
- Finding the inner strength to deal with external perils
- Self-discovery through suffering
- The nature of solitude
- Transcending social and self-imposed limitations

One of my favorite parts of the book is her descriptions of how she adapted to the vastness of the desert, the isolation, and the dreamlike state induced by endurance in an extreme environment. She developed creative solutions to the setbacks that inevitably occurred. She seemed to intuit at some level that her journey into the desert would change her for the better. I recognized her evolution from a somewhat immature and vulnerable person to an agent in her own life. I enjoyed reading the reasons she undertook such a trip, what she learned, and how it changed her. One of her goals was to become more familiar with the Aboriginal people, and she cogently illuminates their plight. Although she was not an author at that point, the book is filled with striking imagery of the desert.

Be advised that it includes a significant amount of abuse and harm to animals, along with racism and sexism. Recommended to fans of memoirs about personal challenges, travel-related adventures, endurance tests, or self-discovery. Overall, I found it an inspirational tale of a remarkable journey, both physically and psychologically.

Memorable quotes:
"To be free is to test yourself constantly, to gamble. It is not safe. I had learnt to use my fears as stepping stones rather than stumbling blocks..."

"Capacity for survival may be the ability to be changed by environment."

This book reminded me a lot of Wild, although the tone is very different there are similarities. A woman takes a very long walk across the landscape solo, to remake herself. Or so it seemed to me. That was a part of the story I couldn’t help being curious about at first, because it seemed such a strong undercurrent: what was the traumatic past Davidson was getting away from? or trying to heal from? but before many more pages I found myself respecting her privacy, especially seeing how she had to defend her need for solitude from so many people- local men in Alice Springs, tourists, National Geographic representatives . . . She was a woman who got along better being alone or with her animals, not people- so deciding to walk 1,700 miles across the Australian desert with just four camels and a dog made sense to her. First she had to work for men in Alice Springs in order to obtain the camels- had no money, and needed some know-how. The magazine heard of her plans and wanted to do a feature on her trip, so sent a photographer to accompany her for certain legs of the journey, and of course she used the much-needed money to fund her equipment and supplies. But bitterly resented having to do so. Wanted it to be all her own effort. I admit, reading the first part of the book was difficult for me. Not only about how brutally (by neccessity, it sounds) the wild-caught camels are treated during training, but also how rough the scene was at Alice Springs. It’s very different from the picture I got of Alice Springs in other accounts. Also upsetting to read how systematically the Aborigional people were oppressed, and how racist many of the people Davidson met were.

But once she gets out in the desert, alone with her camels, things change. And not at all in the manner I might have expected. She had a lot of mental turmoil to work through, and the solitude and stress of the desert also worked upon her. She met and sometimes stayed with Aborigional people along the way- encounters she’d looked forward to, but they weren’t always as expected either. In fact a lot of things didn’t turn out as she’d planned or hoped. The way she became in tune with the landscape and learned to recognize, appreciate and use the native plants was part I loved reading about- though nearly all the plant life was totally unfamiliar to me, so I had a hard time picturing it. Very little mention of wildlife- not sure if because she didn’t encounter many animals, or just didn’t think to write about them. Overall it just sounds like it was an amazing, life-altering, and very strenuous and difficult experience- but at the same time, became very easy once she got used to the routine and rigors of the journey. She talks about social mores and niceties falling away, and how hard it was to readjust when she left the outback.

A book I definitely want to read again someday. And watch the film, though I know it simplifies the story and probably makes more of her relationship with the photographer.

from the Dogear Diary

Travel Lit FYS with Prof. Barickman.

Perhaps I should have given this book one more star, because there were short passages of transcendent beauty when Davidson describes lovely, remote, and impossibly hostile stretches of Australian outback desert. The author trekked 1,700 miles with four camels and a dog, in a journey of self-exploration and transformation.

Davidson has a great story, with a breathtaking backdrop, but it suffers in her telling. Often she refers to friends as though the reader already knows them, and several times alludes to a troubled life (à la a coy Facebook poster) without giving any back story. So we don't really know why she is attempting this life-changing trek, only that she is, and she does her level best to take us along, only so many things that happen to her are so beyond words, that the chasm between what she wants to say and what she does say is quite wide.

Hmm...this book was just ok for me. Didn’t love it. Didn’t hate it. Definitely better than Karma Gone Bad. At least Robyn has common sense and only whines and complains some of the time instead of constantly. At least she gets down with the people.

NOTE TO SELF: I think I already read her other book, Traxx, but it wasn’t marked as read here on GR so I’m not sure. I marked it as want to read so that I can figure out if I have or not.

Robyn Davidson did something as a twenty-seven-year-old back in 1977 that would be almost impossible today: she and her four camels made a (mostly) solo 1700-mile trek from Alice Springs, Australia all the way across the Australian desert to the Indian Ocean. As Davidson puts it in her postscript to the 2012 edition of Tracks:

“Could such a journey be made in the same way now? No, absolutely not. There would be many more people out there with many more ways of keeping tabs on you, more red tape to hold you back, more no-go areas, more fences, more vehicles, more control. New communication technology would make it impossible to get lost no matter how hard you tried.”

Things have changed so much, in fact, that Davidson admits to finding it “painful and difficult” to revisit that part of Australia at all. But back in the day, things were much simpler, if not more primitive, in nature. Davidson had grown bored with the life she was living, especially with the several jobs she had by then experienced and with her various studies. She was more of a loner than any of her friends and family, and very much enjoyed her own company. So, what could be more natural for a young woman like her than six months or so spent all alone in literally the middle of nowhere?

There was one slight problem, however. Davidson knew that the best way to make it across such a wide expanse of desert was with the help of camels. And she knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about camels other than that she wanted to capture three or four of the wild desert camels, break them, and train them as pack animals. Easier said than done, of course, so Davidson ended up working eight months for a man who promised to teach her everything she needed to know and to pay her by giving her two fully-trained camels of her own. What Robyn Davidson experienced in Alice Springs makes up over one-third of Tracks, and very little of it is pretty. The Alice Springs that Davidson endured for those months was so racist and misogynistic that she suffered from severe depression much of the time she was there preparing for her great adventure.

But what an adventure it turns out to be.

In order to make the trip possible at all, Davidson did something that must have felt to her as if she had just sold her soul to the devil. For four thousand dollars, she agreed to allow a National Geographic photographer to join her along the way three or four times so that the magazine could do an expansive article on her and her trip through the desert. It was only with that money, however, that she was able to outfit herself with the equipment she needed to survive in the desert on her own. And despite what started out as a rocky relationship between her and the photographer, her trip may have ended disastrously without his help. At the very least, her experience was changed for the better.

Bottom Line: Tracks is quite an amazing true adventure story, and Robyn Davidson was very frank about everything she saw and experienced during her journey. It is a book I strongly recommend to readers who enjoy reading about what I generally classify as “long walks” taken by one or two brave people who want to experience the planet in a way so few of us will ever manage to experience it for ourselves. There is also a movie version of Tracks by the same title out there, and it is sometimes pretty good despite failing to give much of a real sense of what Davidson went through in order to prepare for the trip or just how tortuous her days sometimes were. Even though the movie ticks off most of the milestone boxes of Davidson’s great adventure, it really comes nowhere near to meaningfully telling what her experiences were like. Do yourself a favor; read the book first.

If Davidson could have kept to just talking about the camels, we'd be gold. I do love my camels. And reading about the Australian Outback. But after about a third of the way through the book of fairly linear storytelling with very little reasoning as to WHY she was undertaking such an extreme task...and getting the feeling that she was just a completely unprepared rich kid wanting to be different...I had to put it down for greener pastures. After all, Summer Reading Club's in full effect.

Australia is a big country.

A very big country.

And a lot of it is hostile, unforgiving desert. So to set out to travel across half of the country from the centre to the sea, with a dog and four camels is a monumental achievement for Robyn Davidson. Not only is this a tough journey in a physical sense, from the relentless heat, the whole menagerie of nasty & poisonous creatures that exist there, fending off unwelcome advances of men, whilst travelling with the camels, a belligerent species at the best of times, takes a resilience and toughness that many men could not achieve.

And that is not the hardest thing she has to endure her apprenticeship with a camel trader, a particular unpleasant man makes for uncomfortable reading at the beginning of the book. She then moves to another who is far more helpful, and makes if possible for her to achieve the journey.

All the way through she endures constant battles with the animals, the environment and with the photographer, Rick Smolan, provided by National Geographic to record her journey. She spends time with an Aboriginal man called Eddie and understands his deep love and respect of the land that protects him and feeds him.

Along the way she reaches into the darker recess of her mind, and experiences the entire suite of raw emotions in her journey, and I think that this makes her as a woman too. The ending is an emotional roller coaster, as she realises her achievement, tries to avoid the press pack, far worse than any dingoes, and reaches the Indian Ocean.

Well worth reading, as this is a personal journey as well as a travelogue of a fascinating country.

Robyn went to Alice Springs, worked for two years to afford three camels, then walked with them across the desert alone. What was she doing before that? Why did this seem like the best plan? What happened to her afterwards? We don't find out. I read this book after seeing the film and I liked both of them, but I'm glad I saw the film first or the book may not have been enough.

I'd quite like to read a book taking on this topic in more detail.

Full review at TheBibliophage.com.

Originally published in 1982, Robyn Davidson’s travel memoir, Tracks: One Woman’s Journey of 1,700 Miles Across the Australian Outback, is a unique picture of life in the bush. To call it a travel memoir doesn’t do it justice. It’s really an adventure story, with camels, a dog, lots of sand hills, and a variety of indigenous people.

When Davidson took this journey, Aboriginal Land rights had just been legislated. The world was afraid of nuclear bombs and the Cold War. Women were just finding their feminist voices. And the Outback was entirely different than it is today.

For that matter, so was Davidson. She was a young, idealistic, and somewhat naive woman. Having been raised on a cattle ranch as well as lived in cities, she envisioned a journey from Alice Springs to the Western coast of Australia.

This is in many ways a perfect travel book. It tells the story of a journey through space and also her own personal journey and she appears to do this openly and honestly. The scenery is the West Australian desert and she describes this gently and vividly. Being on her own with just three camels and a dog on this journey gives Robyn Davidson time to come to terms with herself. Much of the book is about the preparation for the trip and I liked the honesty in the ratio of preparation to journey that she gives us and how she feels about the planned trip, wondering if it will ever happen. She finds that starting just takes one step and it isn't accompanied by the big fanfare you might expect. Robyn Davidson teaches us to find joy in unexpected places, that planning is important but that having a goal is a good start and that even the most self-sufficient person needs good friends. A great read.

This is a well known account both in National Geographic and having been made a movie by the same name. It beautifully describes one womans experience sorting through indigenous customs and skills that had to be accuaried following her decision to make the trip. All she had was her stalwart decision to make the trip and a willingness to adapt to the needs of the quest. I simply loved her account.

I was so ready to give this 2 stars when I was nearly done because while it was not a bad book (quite good actually I would imagine) it simply is not my kind of read and overall I had to drag myself to finish it. That being said, I couldn't. It seemed too disrespectful after this long, beautiful, and occasionally disastrous journey that Robyn went on. I read this for a book club, and after reading I can confirm that I never would have picked it up on my own, and I haven't changed my mind about that. It just isn't within my range of interests at the moment. But I can appreciate all the work that went into its creation, and can recognise that simply by the book existing, it morphs the memory of the journey into a mere story.

A pretty amazing story but one which wearies me, maybe because I would never/could never do anything like this, and what does that say about me? So I transfer my scorn to Robyn Davidson even though she's a badass. She's a rather sociopathic badass, to be sure, but the best part of this book are the pictures. Also, she makes Cheryl Strayed look like a whiny ass beyotch.

More than a travelogue, more than memoirs. Even though this presents to being more about her than the Bill Bryson I've read & only somewhat about the places & people, and camels, it ends up being much more illuminating of the settings & context than his works which present as travelogues.

If you're not sure you want to read it, start at Chapter 10 (p. 193 in my edition) and read towards the end. I bet you'll want to get back to the beginning and find out more. One example of what got her across the desert: I... had a reinforced concrete strip down my back which successfully hid the yellow one."

An example of how well she expresses what some people never learn: "In different places, survival requires different things, based on the environment. Capacity for survival may be the ability to be changed by the environment."

Short, but not really a quick read - too intense, almost spiritual (but not difficult or artsy-fartsy)."

I read this during a brief trip to Alice Springs, Uluru and surrounds having seen the movie during a characteristically chilly April day in Melbourne earlier this year. It's a stunning book - capturing Davidson's love and appreciation of the Central Australian landscape, her principles and passion for the Indigenous people of the country and her deep and abiding love of her camels and dog. The story of the walk is perfect, covering the highs and lows of the journey and its effects on the author's psyche. I loved the moment that Davidson realised that after two years spent preparing, she'd been playing at the task and that a part of her didn't really believe she'd ever do it. From there she realised that she just had to do it, that the first step was necessary and that from there stubbornness and bloody-minded persistence would make the trip happen. It's the common theme of the book - that we really can do so much more than we think and that shaking up our lives and breaking out of the comfort and security is critical to challenging ourselves and growing. There's so much more to the book as well - it's a rich and readable journey, tackling so much more than just the walk.

The movie is also brilliant and highly, highly recommended - particularly if you can see it on a biggish screen where the stunning scenery can really shine.

I can't imagine why I didn't read this book years ago as I'm the ultimate armchair adventurer. This beautifully written account of Robyn Davidson's trek across the outback taught me so much about the tragedy of Australia's indigenous people and their ability to remain dignified and heroic against all the odds. I'd imagine the film version will be magnificent.

We may differ on the definition of "solo", but it is a good, honest read anyway. I also learned quite a bit about camels.

Australien, ca 1980
Indeholder "Forord", "Første del. Alice sprunget", "Anden del. At kaste byrder fra sig", "Tredje del. Lille smule lang vej", "Fjerde del. Ovre på den anden side", "Litteraturliste".

"Forord" handler om at takke for fotografier og uddrag fra andre bøger.
"Første del. Alice sprunget" handler om forberedelserne til turen og det overhovedet at få sig bestemt for faktisk at tage afsted.
"Anden del. At kaste byrder fra sig" handler om at komme afsted.
"Tredje del. Lille smule lang vej" handler om at følges med en indfødt, hr Eddie. Hendes hund Diggity spiser noget gift og dør.
"Fjerde del. Ovre på den anden side" handler om den sidste del af rejsen, som mest handler om at undgå journalister og fotografer.
"Litteraturliste" er en liste over baggrundslitteratur og bøger, der er nævnt i teksten.

Robyn Davison, en enlig ung kvinde på ca 25 år, beslutter sig for at tage en kameltur tværs over Australiens ørken. Det gjorde hun i 1977 og to år senere skrev hun denne bog. Første del beskriver forberedelserne. Hun kommer til Alice Springs med 6 dollars på lommen, en hund Diggety og lidt tøj. Hendes plan er at få fat i nogle vilde kameler, tæmme dem og bruge dem som ridedyr til en lang rejse fra Alice Springs gennem det indre af Australien over til vestkysten.
Hun har ingen erfaring med kameler eller ørken, men heller ikke med at behandle de indfødte som snavs og det hjælper faktisk en del.
Hun arbejder for en skør tysker, Kurt, der har en kamelfarm og mishandler både hende og kamelerne en del. Senere sælger han farmen til nogle andre. Billigt, men til gengæld har de ingen forstand på kamelerne, så hun får lavet en aftale om at hjælpe dem mod at få to kameler. En af dem dør, men til gengæld får hun to andre, som kan bruges som lastkameler. Så hun har tre kameler Zelika, Dookie og Bob. Men hun skal også bruge udstyr som sadler, lasttasker med mere, så hun bruger mange timer med sytøj og nittejern. Hun tager afsted og undervejs dukker fotografen Rick Smolan op. De går i seng sammen, men han forstår stadig ikke hendes projekt, så fx fotograferer han et af de indfødtes hemmelige ritualer, hvorefter de naturligt nok er endnu mere afvisende overfor hende. Robyn trasker videre med sine kameler, som får gnavsår, infektioner og forstuvninger. Vilde kameltyre dukker op, men dem skyder hun. Det er sikkert klogt for en kameltyr i brunst er farlig, men alligevel virker det mærkeligt.
Richard hjælper hende nogle gange undervejs og de ender med at være venner. Hun når frem til kysten og får kamelerne afsat og kommer videre med sit liv.

Der er sådan lidt Troels Kløvedal over selve projektet. Mig og min hund tager på tur og skriver en bog om det. Her handler det også om at hjælpe de indfødte, selv om hun godt kan se at det ikke vil ske. Der er en hel masse om hendes tanker mens hun møffer rundt i sandet og leder efter kamelerne, når de er stukket af. Så interessant er det heller ikke.½