Casefile True Crime - Case 109: Belanglo (Part 1)

Episode Date: March 23, 2019

[Part 1 of 5] In the late 1980s and early 1990s, backpackers from across the globe flocked to Australia in search of sun, surf and adventure. Although hitchhiking was frowned upon, it remained a popular option for those seeking a cheap, convenient method of transit. --- Episode narrated by the Anonymous Host Episode researched by the Anonymous Host Episode written by Elsha McGill For all credits and sources please visit casefilepodcast.com/case-109-belanglo-part-1

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The Hume Freeway is one of the busiest interstate routes in Australia, linking the country's two most populous cities, Sydney and Melbourne. Stretching for 840 kilometres, the Hume is part of the Ozilink National Network, providing a vital connection for freight and transit between the two major East Coast cities. In 2013, the creation of the whole Brook Bypass marked the completion of an extensive overhaul of the roadway, with Sydney and Melbourne now linked by a continuous dual-lane freeway, unrestricted by the traffic lights and speed restrictions of passing townships. But it wasn't always this way.

Prior to the upgrade, the Hume Freeway was the Hume Highway. Those navigating the old Hume had to drive through a vast number of urban and rural townships, traffic lights and intersections. Despite the bypass upgrades that occurred throughout the years, one aspect of the Hume has remained the same. It is the only road providing access to the Balingalos State Forest. Located 130 kilometres southwest of Sydney in the southern highlands region of New South Wales, Balingalos State Forest stretches for 40 square kilometres and comprises 700 hectares of commercial pine plantations, bordered by several thousand hectares of native bushland. Entrance is gained only by driving or walking through the seemingly endless rows of dense pine trees.

The forest is home to a plethora of native flora and fauna, including koalas, wombats, kangaroos and many species of birds. Providing a popular recreation spot for campers, trail bike riders, bushwalkers, picnickers and photographers, many parts of the seemingly endless rugged terrain are so remote that can only be accessed by a four-wheel drive or on foot. Entrance to Balingalos is gained via the Hume, 16 kilometres south of the southern highlands town of Bowerill, where a sealed road quickly gives way to rocky dirt roads, steep hills and creek crossings impossible to navigate without an off-road vehicle. Fire trails and a complex network of tracks and paths crisscross throughout the forest, which is so large and isolated that it's rare to encounter another person whilst visiting. There are no signs or obvious landmarks to signify one's location within, making it a very easy place to get disoriented and lost.

The forest is thought to have been named by an early 1800s settler who was so enchanted by the untamed beauty of the area that he christened at Balingalo, meaning Good Angel. Despite its splendour and distinctively Australian landscape which continues to attract nature lovers and outdoor enthusiasts from all over the world, those who venture to the secluded forest note the vast space is enveloped by neary silence. As visitors turn to the forest entrance, a large ominous sign surrounded by a wall of towering trees warns. Welcome to Balingalo State Forest. Please be careful. In the 1990s, over 200,000 young travellers ventured to Australia each year. Attracted by the sun, surf and rugged natural beauty of the country's varied landscape, travellers were promised exotic and exciting adventures. The backpacking lifestyle offered young people the opportunity to develop their independence, gain new experiences and interact with a wide range of new people from all over.

Most backpackers who arrived to Australia were aged in their early to mid-20s and either taking time off between studying or securing their first professional jobs or wanting to figure out their next step in life. A majority travelled alone or with one other person, stayed in the country for an average visit of six months and either lived frugally off their hard-earned savings or funded their trip as they went with fruit-picking jobs, bar shifts, nannying or casual farm work. 40% of backpackers came from the UK and another 30% ventured over from continental Europe. Backpacking accounted for a major part of the country's tourism industry, contributing approximately $1.5 billion to the Australian economy annually. In the days before the internet, backpackers relied on word of mouth to plan their trips. Knowledge was passed from one traveller to the next, the best destinations to visit, the areas to avoid and the cheapest ways to get from place to place. Noticeboards on display at hostels provided an invaluable resource to tourists seeking travel companions or looking to share the cost of transit with many backpackers partnering up to cut costs and make new friends. Trains and buses were a common form of transport but many budget travellers also purchased cheaper used cars so they could cover more ground at their own pace. Although it was often frowned upon, hitchhiking provided another popular method of transit. Hitching provided a cheap, convenient way to move around for those on tight budgets while allowing visitors to meet locals and learn all about the area they were traversing by the people who lived there. Although this risky practice was strongly discouraged by police and many employers advised truck drivers against picking up hitchhikers, in the 90s it was a common way for travellers to get around.

A free book titled The Budget Travellers Guidebook was available in hostels throughout New South Wales providing information written by backpackers for backpackers. It listed the Hume Highway as an ideal and popular hitchhiking spot for those looking to travel south from Sydney to Melbourne, noting the Liverpool train station as a good starting point. The guidebook advised, hitchhiking is generally safe and legal if you stand in a sensible spot. Solo guys and couples have a good chance of a lift. Make a destination sign and have your backpack visible. Women should not hitchhike alone. 19-year-old James Gibson was one of many young travellers who favoured hitchhiking as a mode of transit. Described as friendly, free-spirited, impulsive and somewhat nomadic, James was most passionate about two things in life, art and the environment. He took conservation issues seriously and was dedicated to saving the planet by attending wilderness walks, volunteering in the country fire service and participating in anti-logging protests. His dedication to the cause had recently led him to hitchhike from his family home on Victoria's Mornington Peninsula to a protest in the New South Wales town of Nimbun. Upon his return home, James was happy to be reunited with his family, of whom he was very close to. Yet, the nomadic lifestyle called to him and he soon found himself eager to hit the road again.

He decided to defer the sculpture course he had enrolled in at Frankston Tafe to have one more adventure. Although he was happy travelling alone, James invited his girlfriend Deborah Everest to join him on the trip. The two had met earlier that year at the beginning of 1989, where they had hit it off immediately despite their many differences. Deborah Everest was a bubbly and vivacious 19-year-old noted for her dry, mischievous sense of humour. A budding writer and avid reader, she was studying psychology at Melbourne's Monash University while working part-time for charity organisation The Quadriplegic Society. Deborah intended to eventually make the move into journalism. She had been living away from home while attending uni, but as 1989 drew to an end, she deferred her studies and returned to her family home in suburban Frankston to help take care of her father after he was diagnosed with cancer. Deborah planned to return to university the following year, but with her studies temporarily on hold, she was free to join James on his journey. Although she didn't share the same nomadic hippie traits as her boyfriend and much preferred home comforts, Deborah had never travelled before and thought it would do her good to take a break and broaden her horizons. James and Deborah made a plan to travel north to Sydney, where they would catch up with some of James' friends before the group would head back south together to Albury, a regional city on the New South Wales-Victorian border. There, they'd make their way to the small riverside town of Walwa to attend Confest, a bush camping festival that celebrates alternative lifestyles, offering workshops, live music and vegetarian food.

On the morning of December 28, 1989, James and Deborah's parents respectively dropped their children off at the Frankston train station. James told his mother the pair intended to hitchhike from Melbourne to Sydney via the Hume Highway, and she wasn't happy about the idea. Although her son was a gregarious and experienced traveller, she was aware of the dangers of hitchhiking and warned her son to be careful. James reassured his mother that hitchhiking was perfectly safe, as long as he didn't travel alone, so she had nothing to worry about, considering Deborah would be by his side. Unlike James, Deborah didn't tell her mother they planned on hitchhiking, instead explaining they were catching a train to Melbourne and would then be getting a lift to Sydney with some friends. At around 9am, James and Deborah farewelled their parents, purchased their tickets and boarded the train to Melbourne. James had packed his red with blue trim Berghaus brand backpack full of clothes, as well as a small camping stove and a 35mm Ricoh brand SLR camera his parents had given him earlier that year. Deborah was equipped with a green nylon sports bag packed with clothes and personal items, a green and beige sleeping bag that she had taken from her brother without asking, and $60 in cash.

The duo disembarked the train in Melbourne City and quickly succeeded in obtaining a ride northwards to Sydney. It was the summer holidays, so there was plenty of traffic on the road, and it was easy to get a lift. James and Deborah made the long journey north without any hiccups and arrived in Sydney as planned. Upon their arrival at James's friend's house in the inner city suburb of Surrey Hills, they discovered the group they were supposed to be meeting there had already left for Confest without them. Their trip to Sydney was now pointless as James and Deborah had specifically travelled an additional six hours north to join up with the Confest group. A little frustrated but accepting the situation, James and Deborah decided to stay the night in Sydney before making the six hour journey back south to Confest in the morning. James' friend's flatmate invited them to sleep on the lounge room floor before they departed for Orbury the next day. That night, December 29, Deborah phoned her mother to say,

We've arrived safely. I knew you would be in a panic until you heard from me. We're fine. Don't worry. I'll send you a postcard and we'll ring you tomorrow. James and Deborah set out for Orbury the following morning of December 30 at around 10am. They intended to follow the well-worn Backpackers path which involved catching a train to either Liverpool or Kasula in Sydney's south-west before heading towards the Hume Highway on foot and then attempting to hitch a ride south from a passing motorist. However, the exact route they ultimately decided to take is unknown. That day, Deborah's mother, Patricia Everest, waited eagerly for a phone call from her daughter as promised. But the evening came and went and there was no word from Deborah. Even though it was unlike Deborah not to be in touch, Patricia tried to reassure herself that the travelling couple were probably just having such a great time that they forgot to call home.

As the days went by and still she hadn't heard from her daughter, Patricia became increasingly concerned. She contacted James' mother, Peg Gibson, who advised she hadn't received any contact from her son. Peg wasn't too worried though. She was used to James venturing off to remote locations where there were limited means of communication. So she assured Patricia their children were probably just in an area with no telephone access. But as the days continued to pass by and still there was no word from James or Deborah, Peg began to share Patricia's concern. The two mothers kept in close contact, see if the other had heard anything. But when no news came through, they soon became frantic. On January 15, 1990, two weeks since Deborah's last phone call home,

Patricia Everest and Peg Gibson made their way to the Frankston police station together, where they reported their two children missing. An officer entered James and Deborah's names into the missing person's register, noting that although James was known at times to live a somewhat nomadic lifestyle, he was also a responsible young man, and it was out of character for either of them not to be in contact with their families. Police took the report seriously, but it wasn't seen as a priority, as the officers deemed it likely the 19-year-olds had simply gotten swept up on an adventure and would call home soon. Patricia and Peg knew such behaviour would be out of character for their children, but tried to find comfort in the possibility. James's sister's wedding day was fast approaching, and the Gibson and Everest families held onto hopes the pair would return home in time for the occasion.

James and his sister were close, and his family knew there was no way he would miss such a milestone event. But the big day on January 21 came and went with no contact from James or Deborah. Their families had no doubt now that something was horribly wrong. Friends and relatives gathered together to help with the search. Wearing t-shirts asking for information, they stopped at all the towns, truck stops, service stations and rest stops up and down the Hume Highway. They distributed posters featuring James and Deborah's photographs with the bold title missing, advising anyone with information about the duo's whereabouts to contact the police. Despite these efforts, days turned into months, and still there were no sightings and no word from James or Deborah.

On March 13, 1990, a woman named Wendy was driving along Galston Gorge Road, a narrow, picturesque stretch of asphalt road that runs between the towns of Hornsby and Dural in the northwest outskirts of Sydney. Wendy noticed a red backpack with blue trim on the side of the road and stopped to pick it up, throwing it in the boot of her car. When Wendy arrived to work, she had a look through the backpack that didn't find anything of interest. It contained a black pen, a tin of sardines and some pine needles, which she noted as odd considering there were no pine trees in Galston Gorge. She also noticed the ID tag had been cut out of the backpack, meaning there was no way of identifying its owner. So Wendy put the pack aside and went about her day. The next day, she had another look at the backpack and noticed there was a name, address and telephone number written inconspicuously on the bottom of the pack.

Alongside the phone number read the word Gibson. Wendy called the number and Peg Gibson answered, advising the backpack belonged to her son James, who had been missing along with his girlfriend Deborah for three and a half months. With this information, Wendy immediately drove to Hornsby police station and tanned the backpack in. After the discovery of the backpack, James and Deborah's disappearance started gaining more attention. Local newspaper The Hornsby Advocate ran a story about the missing couple, advising that James's backpack had now been located, but his Rico brand camera and Deborah's belongings were nowhere to be seen. The story sparked the attention of a local cyclist who had been riding his bike on Galston Gorge Road on December 31, 1989, the day after James and Deborah were last seen in Sydney. The cyclist found what appeared to be a near new 35mm Rico brand camera on the side of the road. Considering there was nothing on it to help identify its owner, the cyclist took the camera home and didn't give it much more thought.

Now realising the camera might belong to missing backpacker James Gibson, he immediately handed it in to Hornsby police station. Members of James's family flew to Sydney and formally identified the backpack and the camera as belonging to the missing 19 year old. They were confused about the location in which the items were found. James and Deborah had plans to head south to Confest near Aubrey, so it made no sense that their belongings had shown up on the northwest outskirts of Sydney. Galston Gorge Road was about 45km northwest of Surrey Hills, the last place the couple were seen. Police appealed to witnesses who may have seen or picked up the couple to come forward, but to no success. In April, an extensive police search of the rugged Galston Gorge area was conducted, with police divers searching the river while 140 officers and emergency service personnel conducted a foot search along the winding Galston Gorge Road. Investigators remained open to all possibilities, including the hopeful that the pair had run away together after dumping their belongings.

To the sinister, that they fell to their deaths while climbing the cliffs, enacted a suicide pact, or had fallen victim to foul play. Given the fact that James and Deborah were both close with their families and had no prior history of self harm, accidental death or foul play were deemed the more likely of the worst case scenarios. Despite the extensive search efforts, no other items belonging to the couple were found. For Patricia Everest, the uncertainty of not knowing what happened to her daughter was the most painful aspect. Quote, The months continued to pass by and no new information came to light. James and Deborah's disappearance quickly faded from the news and had very little impact on other young travellers as the backpacking industry continued to thrive. 21 year old Simone Schmidel, known to friends as Simi, was bitten by the travel bug early.

When she was 11 years old, she travelled with her family from their home country of Germany to Canada, which sparked her keen sense of adventure. After finishing high school, Simone headed to Yugoslavia, remarking to her friend, If I could afford it, I'd spend the rest of my life travelling around the world. It was a passion well suited to her fun, outgoing and trusting personality, which made her a confident jet setter. Two years after her trip to Yugoslavia, Simone visited Canada and Alaska for a camping holiday, where she met a number of fellow travellers, including several Australians. There was one person in particular she hit it off with, a young woman from Sydney named Christine Murphy, and Simone decided Australia would be her next destination. She considered it to be a safe and friendly country, much like Canada, and was eager to see the striking colours of the Great Barrier Reef and the endless desert horizon of the Aussie Outback. Simone returned home to Regensburg, a Bavarian city near Munich in Germany, working hard as a bookkeeper to save money for her upcoming Australian adventure.

Once Simone had successfully funded her trip, she went shopping with her father to buy the items required for her Australian camping holiday. She purchased a blue Salewa brand backpack adorned with a lilac pattern, a green and purple Salewa brand sleeping bag, a day pack and a cooking set. The Vowde brand Hogan model tent she wanted wasn't in stock, so the sales assistant had to order one in from the manufacturer. The tent arrived two weeks later, and Simone returned to the store to collect and sign for the item. Armed with everything she needed, Simone made her way to the Regensburg train station on September 29, 1990, where she planned to catch a train to Frankfurt before boarding her flight to Sydney. She was farewelled by her father, who urged his daughter to be careful, but Simone was more concerned about her father's wellbeing than her own, telling him, Take care and be careful that nothing happens to you. When I'm in Australia, I won't be able to help if something happens. During her flight to Sydney, Simone struck up a conversation with a fellow passenger and backpacker named Jeanette Muller, and the two became instant friends.

As neither had any solid plans upon their arrival to Australia, they decided to travel together. Their first stop was a visit to Christine Murphy, whom Simone had met on her trip to Alaska. Simone and her new companion, Jeanette, arrived to Christine's house in the western Sydney suburb of Guildford, which they used as a base while exploring the city. After a week spent sightseeing, Simone and Jeanette caught a train to Liverpool and set out on foot down the Hume Highway, hitching a ride to Melbourne. From there, they bought a cheap car and drove north up to Queensland, before driving back to Melbourne to meet up with some friends. In Melbourne, the women sold their car and decided to hitchhike back to Sydney. They'd become very familiar with the Hume Highway during their travels and felt confident accepting rides along this well-trodden route. In Sydney, they stayed with Christine Murphy again, before flying to New Zealand. On January 19, 1991, Simone and Jeanette returned to Australia, where they crashed at Christine Murphy's Sydney-based house yet again.

It was there that Simone announced the next leg of her trip. She planned to hitchhike on her own back down to Melbourne to meet her mother, who was flying over to join her on a campervan trip around the country. Simone's friends expressed worry over her plan to hitchhike alone. Christine felt Simone had already taken too many risks and should quit while she was ahead. Jeanette had done her fair share of hitchhiking with Simone, yet even she agreed that her travel companion should adopt a more cautious approach from here on out, believing the reason their previous efforts were safe and successful was due to the fact that they were travelling as a pair. Jeanette and Christine urged Simone to catch the bus to Melbourne instead, offering to buy her a ticket. Even Christine's mother warned Simone of the dangers of hitchhiking alone. But Simone shrugged it off, showing her a page from her travel guide that detailed Australia as a safe country to hitchhike. Simone had already made up her mind, as Christine Murphy described. Simone had a relaxed attitude towards hitchhiking, and told her friends not to worry. She'd always found people to be friendly and helpful. Her argument when we tried to talk her out of it was, don't worry about it, I'm quite safe.

At 8.30am on January 20, 1991, Simone Schmiddle left Christine Murphy's house to begin her solo journey to Melbourne. Jeanette walked her part way to the Guildford train station, where the two said they would buy us at a nearby news agency. The trains weren't running that morning, so Simone caught a bus from Guildford to Liverpool, where she began the walk to the Hume Highway at 9am. Simone's plan was to hold up a sign displaying her final destination of Melbourne in the hopes of catching a lift from a friendly truck driver. She set off down the Hume Highway wearing a bright yellow singlet, green shorts and hiking boots, carrying her backpack, tent, sleeping bag, and $20 cash. Three days later, on Wednesday, January 23, Simone's mother, her veneer, arrived at Melbourne Airport, eager to see her daughter after four months apart. However, Simone wasn't waiting for her mother in the arrivals lounge as expected. Her veneer assumed she wouldn't be too far away and continued to wait, wondering whether Simone had been confused about their plans.

Perhaps she thought they were supposed to meet at the house of a friend where they would be staying. Her veneer called a taxi to their friend's house, presuming Simone was already there, but when she arrived, Simone was nowhere to be seen and nobody had heard from her. The worried mother sat by the phone, waiting for Simone to ring, but no calls came through. Her veneer called Christine Murphy's house the last place her daughter stayed. Simone's friends Christine and Jeanette had already begun to worry even before receiving her veneer's phone call. Simone had promised to make contact upon her safer arrival to Melbourne, but days had passed since she departed and they still hadn't heard a word from her. Christine said, By Monday night, when we hadn't heard from Simi, we began to worry.

By Tuesday night, logic began to hit. On the fifth day of Simone's disappearance, her veneer made her way to the Russell Street police station in Melbourne to report her daughter missing. The officers on duty weren't overly concerned. Simone was an experienced young backpacker and there was every chance she had made a spur of the moment decision to change her travel plans. But her veneer knew such a thing would be completely out of character for her daughter. When Simone's father Herbert was notified of his daughter's disappearance, he sought assistance from his local police station in Germany. The German officers told him there was nothing they could do as it was an issue for Australian police. Herbert explained he couldn't speak English and wanted their assistance gaining some more information.

But the German police advised him to find an English speaking friend or relative who could help instead. Herbert contacted the German Embassy in Canberra and higher authorities in German law enforcement, but they advised him to contact foreign affairs. Time and time again, his attempts to seek help led nowhere, made all the more difficult by the language barrier impacting his ability to communicate with Australian authorities. Her veneer stayed in Australia, holding out hopes that her daughter would show up. Overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, her veneer began suffering regular bouts of nausea. After six weeks of searching with no sign of Simone, she eventually returned to Germany alone. During a public appeal for anyone with information to come forward, Simone's travel companion Jeanette Muller said, People in Germany want to come to Australia because it's so far away, the great southern land.

But Australia is also well known for its great crime rate. My mother warned me about it before I left. Like the thousands of backpackers who were drawn to Australia each year, 21-year-old Gabor Neugebauer was eager to see as much of the world as possible. Born in Stuttgart, Germany, his father's job in the Air Force meant Gabor had moved around a lot throughout his childhood, so he felt confident venturing to new places, even though he was quiet, shy and liked to keep to himself. Passionate about nature and the environment, Gabor had a particular interest in geology and volcanology. After serving 15 months compulsory service in the German military, he applied to pursue these interests at university, but when he failed to gain entry to his preferred course, he enrolled in a philosophy degree instead.

He promised his parents he would transfer to something they considered more serious once he had scratched his travel itch. It was around this time that Gabor met Anya Habsheed, a shy, kind-hearted 20-year-old who shared his love for the environment. Anya had recently completed a drafting course and was eager to embrace the world beyond Germany before she recommenced her studies. Beyond their shared passions for nature and travel, Anya and Gabor had lots in common, neither smoked or drank, and both embraced an easygoing attitude towards life. The two set off on their first adventure together around Europe at the start of 1991. At over 6 feet tall, Gabor towered over Petit Anya, and his fit, strong physique ensured she felt safe travelling in his company. The couple enjoyed their European travel experience so much that upon their return, they began planning their next trip right away.

Gabor's uni course was scheduled to resume in early 1992, and before returning to the books, He and Anya decided to set off on a two-month journey backpacking around Asia, where they were mostly looking forward to visiting the temples and volcanoes of Indonesia. They set off for Indonesia in late 1991, but while they were there, the weather took an unexpected turn for the worse, and the couple made a spur-of-the-moment decision to head to Australia instead. Gabor and Anya landed in Darwin in December 1991, before venturing to the tropical city of Cairns in far north Queensland. With Christmas fast approaching, they met some other travellers along the way who told them Bondi Beach in Sydney was the place to be during the festive season, as there was a large backpackers' Christmas party put on there every year.

Intrigued by this tip, the couple added Sydney to their itinerary, with Anya writing a letter to her family in Germany saying she was really looking forward to this leg of their journey. Upon their arrival in Sydney, Gabor and Anya checked into a hostel in Kings Cross, an inner-city district which at the time was a hotbed for drugs, crime and seedy nightlife, but was popular with backpackers due to the cheap accommodation available. Not liking the vibes of the city and unable to sleep during the hot, sticky summer night, Gabor called his family in Germany from a payphone in the hostel corridor at 4am on Christmas morning. Although the international connection was poor, Gabor's mother could tell her son wasn't in good spirits.

He and Anya much preferred Asia over Australia and were looking forward to leaving. Before the phone line disconnected, Gabor told his mother he wanted to leave Australia as soon as possible. The next day, December 26, 1991, Gabor and Anya settled their bill and checked out of the Kings Cross hostel, telling staff they were heading north to Darwin. They had booked a flight to Indonesia departing New Year's Day and were eager to resume that portion of their trip before flying from Indonesia to Germany on January 14. However, January 14 came and went and nobody back home heard a word from Anya or Gabor, nor had they returned to Germany as planned.

Their families clung to the possibility that they may have simply missed their flight or had decided to extend their stay and weren't able to reach a phone to let anyone know. But fees for their well-being were quickly exacerbated when it was revealed Gabor and Anya hadn't touched over $3,000 worth of travellers checks since checking out of their Kings Cross hostel. Knowing they would be returning to Darwin after Sydney, Gabor and Anya had let their friends and family know to direct any mail for them to the Darwin Post Office. It was common practice for backpackers who had no fixed address to nominate a post office where they could collect mail while passing through.

Gabor's mother had sent a couple a Christmas package containing cookies and other treats, but the package remained at the Darwin Post Office uncollected, indicating the couple may have never made it there. On January 30, 1992, a little over a month since Anya and Gabor were last seen checking out of the hostel in Sydney, their disappearance was reported to German police. The report was forwarded on to the Australian Federal Police who immediately began looking into the case, yet they uncovered very little information to suggest what had happened to the couple. Gabor and Anya's families hired a private investigator, but they too failed to find any trace of the two young backpackers. After months of searching and no leads, it was as though they had simply vanished into thin air.

Frustrated with the fruitless investigation, Gabor's parents, Ankar and Manfred Neugebauer, along with Anya's brother Norbert, decided to head to Australia to initiate their own search. They were convinced the couple may have been involved in an accident and were eager to increase the media attention to see if anyone came forward with information. Ankar, Manfred and Norbert arrived in Sydney in April 1992, meeting with the New South Wales police force and conducting several press conferences. For Norbert, his sister's disappearance was completely out of character,

as he knew she was looking forward to returning to Germany to resume her studies. He told the media, we decided the only way to know what was happening was to come here to look for ourselves. For us, there are only a few possibilities. If someone is murdered, the first thing you do is steal their money, but no checks have been cashed. They could have had an accident, fallen over a cliff, but nobody has seen it. We know they would contact us if they could.

The media attention was helpful in generating public awareness, with the police receiving over 200 tip-offs from witnesses who believed they had sighted the couple. Every lead was followed, but each went nowhere, with the sightings believed to be a case of mistaken identity. Ankar, Manfred and Norbert decided to follow the trail Anya and Gabor had taken, but were faced with the problem that no one knew 100% which way the couple had travelled after leaving Sydney. Although their flight from Darwin to Indonesia had been scheduled to leave just six days later, Gabor had told his parents they were heading south down the Hume Highway,

making their way to Victoria, specifically Mildura, a historical country town on the banks of the Murray River. From there, the couple would visit Adelaide in the neighbouring state of South Australia, before heading north through the outback on the Stuart Highway to their final destination of Darwin. But this contradicted reports from the King's Cross Hostel Staff in Sydney, who were adamant Gabor and Anya said they were taking the north route via Queensland towards Darwin, as they had asked for hostel recommendations in that direction. Ankar, Manfred and Norbert spent the next five weeks travelling through Australia in a camper van. They decided to follow the advice from the King's Cross Hostel Staff and head north from Sydney.

Going to Brisbane, Townsville, Mount Isa, Darwin, Alice Springs, Port Augusta and Broken Hill. They visited every hostel, cafe and local store they could, asking if anyone had seen the missing backpackers. After covering over 10,000 kilometres without finding a single trace of Anya or Gabor, the desperate trio visited a clairvoyant on their final day in Australia, who told them, Your children are no longer alive. Your son died very quickly, but his friend Anya suffered terribly before she died. Gabor, Noigabour and Anya Habsheed's disappearance came almost two years to the day after James Gibson and Deborah Everest were last seen in Surrey Hills, and just 11 months since Simone Schmiddle was last seen walking down the Hume Highway near Liverpool.

Although all three cases involved young travellers disappearing in Sydney, there was no evidence to link them in any way, and nothing that made them stand out for police amongst all of the other active missing person cases. In Australia in the early 90s, 24,000 people were reported missing each year, a majority of those reported missing either reappeared or were found within the first two weeks, but 300 missing people remained unaccounted for each year. James Gibson, Deborah Everest, Simone Schmiddle, Gabor Noigabour and Anya Habsheed joined the thousands of names of persons who had disappeared without a trace. During a missing persons week appeal for information,

a spokesperson for the New South Wales Police missing persons unit stated, We just cannot ever give up hope. We are constantly reviewing and re-reviewing our files. 22-year-old Joanne Walters had always dreamed of visiting Australia and New Zealand, destinations she considered far more exotic than her hometown of Mystig, near Cardiff, in Wales. Joanne had a humble life, growing up with a mother who worked as a shop assistant and father who worked in a paper mill factory. She was a model student at school, and her warm nature ensured others were drawn towards her. Having recently travelled through Europe, Joanne was looking forward to her next adventure.

As she flipped through a newspaper, she noticed an advertisement offering two return flights to Australia for the price of one. Excited by the offer, she contacted her Scottish friend Pauline Reid whom she had met the previous year while travelling through Greece. The two decided to venture to the land down under for an extended working holiday, with Joanne promising to call and write home regularly. Joanne and Pauline arrived in Sydney in early June 1991, spending the next few weeks travelling north to Queensland before deciding to part ways and meet up again further down the track. Joanne returned to Sydney where she rented a flat in King's Cross with another backpacker and applied for a job as a nanny. She was one of 100 applicants for the nanny position, but for the Jensen family, Joanne was the ideal candidate. Sensible, independent and outgoing, they happily hired her for the job.

Joanne loved being a nanny for the Jensens, spending her spare time visiting the sites of Sydney and mingling with other travellers and locals at various bars and cafes throughout the King's Cross area. It was during this time that Joanne crossed paths with another young female backpacker and the two immediately hit it off. 21-year-old Caroline Clark was a well-educated, determined young woman who enjoyed an upper middle-class upbringing in the county of Surrey in England, where she loved playing netball and hockey and socialising with her wide circle of friends. Always up for a laugh, Caroline had a knack for impersonating teachers, family members and celebrities to the amusement of others. Caroline was driven to make a difference in the world, applying for a job as a police officer at age 20. The recruitment officers at the Surrey Police Department thought her qualities made her a great candidate, but felt she was a little too young. They advised her to go out and gain more life experiences, then come back to see them again in a couple of years.

Caroline recognised this as a great opportunity to travel the world and started saving her money for an extended backpacking trip. Her older brother had recently travelled to Australia and had spoken so highly of his experience there that Caroline decided to add the destination to her bucket list. Caroline got a job as an assistant manager for a pizza restaurant, where she was well liked by customers and staff. After saving enough money, she spent a month travelling through Europe before making her way to Australia, where she planned to work and travel before passing through Indonesia and Thailand on her way home 18 months later. Joanne Walters had already been in Australia for four months when she met Caroline Clark. The two became instant friends and decided to embark on their further travels together. Although Joanne enjoyed nannying for the Jensen family, word from other backpackers was that fruit picking presented a great opportunity to see more of the country while learning a wage along the way.

Joanne ran the idea past Caroline, who agreed fruit picking sounded like a great idea, and the two decided to make their way to Miljura in regional Victoria, known for its grape production. The Jensen family were sad to see Joanne leave, but were understanding and supportive of her decision. In early February 1992, Joanne and Caroline set out for Miljura with two other backpackers they had met, catching a train to Liverpool before walking towards the Hume Highway. The foursome decided they'd have more success hitching a ride if they split into pairs, and the plan paid off. All four women made it to Miljura safely, where they each got to work picking grapes in a local vineyard. It was in Miljura that Joanne and Caroline struck up a friendship with an Englishman named Steve Wright,

and the trio decided to head to Tasmania together, as they'd heard it was a good spot to get work picking apples. When their job in Miljura was complete, they made a brief return to Sydney before once again hitching a ride down the Hume Highway to Melbourne, where they caught the ferry to Tasmania. The nights in Tasmania were much colder than the women expected, so Joanne purchased the blue and orange ultimate brand sleeping bag that was much warmer than the one she had originally brought with her. In Tasmania, Steve Wright decided to leave the women and go his separate way, but as he didn't plan on doing any more camping, he offered to swap his blue three-person tent for Joanne and Caroline's two-person tent. They were grateful for the exchange, as the tent they had been sleeping in was too small for the both of them.

They even overlooked the fact that Steve's tent had a hole in it, as he had patched it up with an adhesive label. After their apple-picking job came to an end, Joanne and Caroline departed Tasmania and returned to their Sydney-based hostel in Kings Cross. From there, they planned to venture to Western Australia, as they'd heard there was upcoming work available during the melon-picking season. They made a rough plan to slowly make their way there by driving along the scenic Great Ocean Road in Victoria to Adelaide, then proceed north to Uluru in the Northern Territories Desert, before finally reaching the Western Australian town of Kananara. On April 16, 1992, both Joanne and Caroline called their families back home to let them know their plans. They were both happy and in good spirits, looking forward to the next portion of their adventure, which was set to begin the following morning. The next day, they received a visit at the hostel from Pauline Reed, the friend who Joanne had originally travelled to Australia with.

They filled Pauline in on their travel itinerary, advising her they intended to get around by hitchhiking most of the way. They had hitched many rides already and had nothing but positive experiences so far, seeing it as a great way to meet friendly locals. Despite their plans, Joanne and Caroline were quite unorganised and the day quickly got away from them. As the afternoon descended into twilight, they decided to put their trip off until the next day, as the idea of hitchhiking at night held a very little appeal. At 7.30am on April 18, 1992, Joanne and Caroline spoke with Steve Wright, the backpacker with whom they had previously travelled to Tasmania with. They advised him they were taking the same route down the Hume Highway they had taken previously when hitching to Miljura and Melbourne. They planned to catch a train from King's Cross to Kassoula, the station after Liverpool, then make the short walk to the Hume Highway from where they had hitched their first lift. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining as Steve farewelled his friends and wished them luck.

Two weeks later, Joanne's parents in Wales felt uneasy when they hadn't heard a word from their daughter. Joanne was a dutiful child who called and wrote letters home on a regular basis, keeping her parents in the loop of her next contactable address. It was very unlike her to be out of touch, but they gave their daughter the benefit of their doubt, hoping she was just having too much fun or was currently travelling through a remote area with no telephone access. In England, Caroline's parents were becoming equally concerned as they too hadn't heard from their daughter. They assured themselves she was probably in the up back with no access to a phone or post office and would surely be in touch soon. The alarm bells really started to ring when Caroline's sister's birthday came and went on May 8th with no word from Caroline. A few weeks later, on May 24, when Caroline failed to contact her father to wish him a happy birthday, her family started to get incredibly anxious. A few days later, Caroline Clarke's family received a phone call from Joanne's dad, Ray Walters, advising them of his concerns regarding his daughter's silence.

Ray had recently been digging around and found that Joanne hadn't accessed her bank account since April 15, which was the day before she had last called home. He had also been in touch with Joanne's former employers in Australia, the Jensen family, who shared his concerns. They had expected to hear from Joanne over Easter, but the holiday had gone by without them hearing a word. Realising almost six weeks had passed since either family had heard from their daughters, they reported Joanne and Caroline's disappearance to local police, who then contacted the Australian federal police. The Jensen family also made their own report to New South Wales police in Sydney. Ray Walters stayed up late at night making international phone calls to fruit picking farms, backpacker hostels and rural police stations in areas Joanne and Caroline had already visited or intended to visit, but no one had seen or heard from them. Caroline's father, Ian Clark, was well connected due to his high level job at the Bank of England. He contacted an associate, Phillip Corbett, who was a former commander for Scotland Yard and was more than willing to assist the Clarks with the search for their daughter.

Corbett made contact with Caroline and Joanne's former travelling companions to get a better insight into their movements. He also put pressure on New South Wales police to treat the disappearance as a priority. Corbett's intervention attracted media coverage in the United Kingdom, prompting Australian authorities to treat the missing person report with precedence. With New South Wales police now making inquiries, the disappearance of Joanne Walters and Caroline Clark was headlining the Australian media as a nationwide search commenced. A police spokesperson explained, Both women were in the habit of telephoning their parents about once every two weeks, but neither family has heard from their daughter since mid-April. Their failure to contact home is completely out of character, and it is for this reason we hold fears for their safety. Within the first day of launching the appeal, over 100 witnesses came forward to report possible sightings of the pair.

One witness reported seeing two women who matched Joanne and Caroline's description getting into a combivian with a male driver, which received strong media focus and generated hundreds of further tips. But police weren't convinced that it had been an accurate sighting. Further complicating efforts was the discovery that two young women with British accents were travelling a similar route to the one Joanne and Caroline planned to follow, meaning witness sightings could be confusing this separate set of travellers for the missing pair. Over the following two months, calls continued to come through and police followed up every lead, but none of the sightings were proven to be Joanne or Caroline. In August 1992, Joanne's parents Ray and Jill Walters travelled to Australia to assist the search for their missing daughter. They participated in press conferences, making an urgent appeal to the public for anyone with information to come forward.

Ray Walters told the gathering media, Joanne didn't do anything on the spur of the moment. If she turned right or she turned left, she'd let us know. On the day Joanne and Caroline were last seen in Sydney, only four months had passed since Gabor, Nugabella and Daniel Habschede had disappeared from the same area, and their case was still gaining media attention as their devastated families travelled the country searching for clues. Given that both pairs of international backpackers had vanished from the King's Cross District, the press were quick to link the two disappearances. New South Wales police refused to confirm whether there was a connection, simply advising they were considering all possibilities. Joanne and Caroline's case continued to gain an increasing amount of media attention, leading the press to look into other recent incidents where international tourists had gone missing under similar circumstances.

The mysterious disappearance of German backpacker Simone Schmidl two years earlier was mentioned from time to time, but very little was said about James Gibson and Deborah Everest, given they were Australian citizens travelling within their home country. Countless articles debating the safety risks involved with backpacking and hitchhiking were published, with the hostel industry coming under scrutiny. Hostel owners maintained Australia was a safe country and there was nothing for travellers to worry about, but the negative press was threatening to tarnish the thriving backpacker tourism industry. Despite this, young travellers were not deterred from hitchhiking. Many provided interviews to the media stating they had never encountered any issues while hitchhiking across the country, and had no intention of stopping, defending it as an affordable mode of transport.

Police called for the establishment of a central registry to record the names and contact addresses for all foreigners travelling in Australia to help keep track of their movements. Although that may have been a useful tool, it was too late for the families of the seven backpackers who mysteriously vanished in Sydney between 1989. and 1992. On September 19, 1992, eight members of the Scrub Runners Orientering Club ventured down the Hume Highway, passing the kilometres of pine plantations before reaching the natural bush portion of Balangelo State Forest. From the rangers' huts, the team separated into pairs and ventured into the thick scrub as part of a training exercise. Two members, Keith Sealy and Keith Caldwell, partnered up and began navigating the steep rocky terrain west of the Longacre Fire Trail, heading towards an area known as Executioner's Drop.

At 4.15pm, the two men trekked into a shallow gully and made their way towards a large boulder. As they walked closer, they were hit with an overwhelming stench, which they assumed was emanating from a dead animal. They edged closer to the boulder, where they noticed a pile of sticks and branches on its western side, forming a mound approximately two metres long and 60 centimetres high. Out of the debris, they noticed a tuft of dark fur. They figured it must have been a dead wombat or a kangaroo. But upon closer inspection, they noticed a thin bone sticking out of the mound, along with a heel of a shoe and a patch of clothing.

Keith Sealy, quote, What I thought was the kangaroo leg was an elbow. The wombat was the hair on the back of a head. The men hastily made the two kilometre trek back to the closest rangers hut, where they contacted police and escorted them to the human remains. A crime scene was established as twilight descended, with floodlights illuminating the deserted area as police uncovered the heavily decomposed body of a young woman, facedown and gagged with strips torn from a shirt.

A search of the rugged terrain was put temporarily on hold due to the pitch darkness, with police commencing a thorough search of the site at daybreak. That next morning, just 30 metres from the skeletal remains discovered by the large boulder in the shallow gully, police noticed a similar mound of sticks and branches piled alongside a fallen log. Hidden underneath was a second body. When news of the gruesome discoveries in Belangelo State Forest hid the media, speculation ran rife as to whether more bodies would be uncovered at the site. In response, a police spokesperson said,

There is nothing to suggest that it's a mass grave, but we're keeping an open mind about what might be out there. To be continued next week. Thank you for watching.