Carolineโ€™s sultry and soulful eyes are hooded and heavy-lashed.

โ€œSheโ€™s straight out of central,โ€ Paul Martin whispers, gazing at his star performer with admiration.

Martin is not speaking of central casting โ€“ the camel farmer is referring to the Central Desert region of Australia, where at least half a million of Carolineโ€™s kin roam wild.

Now far from feral, Caroline quietly chews cud as suction cups on her teats gurgle away, hoses connected to 8-litre glass bottles filling up with pure white milk.

Behind Caroline is Mildred, the second in a line of 10 in this open-air dairy shed, an hourโ€™s drive from the metropolis of Brisbane and thousands of kilometres from Australiaโ€™s arid heart. Instead of red dunes and vast spinifex plains, these camels are surrounded by lush pasture and a horizon of jagged and wooded peaks.

View image in fullscreen Unlike cows, camels can โ€˜hold their milkโ€™โ€“ meaning farmers like Martin have to coax, not coerce them into their new roles in the dairy. Photograph: Jamila Filippone/The Guardian

After a decade of supplying the domestic camel milk market from this 130 hectare (320 acre) farm in south-east Queenslandโ€™s Scenic Rim โ€“ one of the first commercial camel dairies in Australia โ€“ Martin wants to start supplying the stuff to the United States.

๐Ÿ“ฐ

Continue Reading on The Guardian

This preview shows approximately 15% of the article. Read the full story on the publisher's website to support quality journalism.

Read Full Article โ†’