Down Under – West Coast - Second Instalment
Dedicated to my dearest friend, Adele Evans (Affleck), travel writer and broadcaster, who died suddenly in September last year. Fly, Fly Fly, my friend....
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| yellow-tailed black cockatoo |
So,
for those uninitiated in to the art of
road travel in Aus, living out of a campervan for three weeks, the question is,
where does one even BEGIN? For me, the
answer is a no-brainer – in the centre – my stomach!! Having decided to explore
the rest of the West Coast by car/campervan rather than fly/drive, Jelte and I
had begun researching what type of vehicle best suited our needs. Looking back, we find we made one major
mistake, which shall not be repeated again.
Instead of opting for a four-wheel-drive, we went with the ‘safer’
option of a standard van. At the time,
we did not realize it, but it was to hugely restrict where we could venture
once we were in the great outdoors. I
suppose this is a fairly common error.
Before arriving in a country like Australia, guide books, blogs and
travel advisories instill the fear of the unknown into one. I imagined us being on red dirt track, with
not a tree in sight and not a chance of assistance, should the need arise, for
another thousand miles or so. One has
visions of venomous spiders and snakes and ‘salties’ waiting on the side-lines for the unsuspecting
idiot tourist to drop by for a bite.
So, maybe, our choice of a boring on-road camper van saved our
lives. Who knows? But, back to the all important – food.
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| Clouds. Cafe in Denham near Shark Bay |
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| Our Combi, looking out over the bay in the little town of Denham where manta rays glide the shallows |
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| Travelling companion |
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| On the road to nowhere |
The
big question now was, would this all fit in to our little ‘combi’? We had a soft bag each, a large first-aid
kit, and a large bag of assorted shoes –
golf, heavy duty walking, sneakers, flip-flops and sturdy beach walkers. The ‘combi’ was a small Suzuki van,
outfitted for overnight usage, with a little kitchen unit fitted in the
rear. Where the passenger seats would
have been, on one side were - an extra
battery (for fridge and lights), and a
drawer-type fridge (essential for our ‘tinnies’ (Aus slang for cans of beer),
milk and other perishables); on the other side was a drawer with a lift-up
lid. On top of all this (and taking up
all of the rear area) was a large, very comfy, double mattress. We had opted for the ‘deluxe’ add-on of
quality linen (towels, sheets, duvet, pillows and covers), and a fun-pack
(snorkels, frisbee and other beach games).
The camper van company we used is a small-family-run business and
consequently, the attention to detail is far superior to anything one can get
from the larger corporations. Based in
Rockingham, just south of Perth, GoCamper.com was an excellent choice for our
needs. They equip their fleet with
pretty much that the international visitor to Australia might not have thought
of. No need to worry about the dish
washing liquid, gas canisters, cutlery, crockery, table and chairs, awning,
lights. It’s all there and road-ready. Also, provided: washing line and clothes pegs!! There was no running water in our combi and
the ‘cooker’ was a single gas ring cooker.
But once one is on the road and familiar with the facilities provided by
the multitudinous camp and caravan sites, it becomes clear that these are
available and usually included in the cost of your overnight camp fee. It took us a little while to work out how to
access our supply of non-potable water containers. Also, sleeping over the functioning fridge
and battery can be a cozy experience during the early spring in the South
West. But venture further north and it
gets a little heated!! A word of warning
to anyone over 6 ft. tall. You will
have to sleep diagonally. If there are
two tall people – oh dear! We met up
with another couple that had chosen a 4wd.
Their problem was a little different.
The rear sleeping space was so limited and narrow that they had to
resort to sleeping head-to-toe!! Choices
are limited in these combi vehicles.
Their advantage, though, is that they are infinitely cheaper to run,
especially if one has to keep the AC going.
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| Sunset at The Pinnacles |
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| A whole lotta nothin' as far as the eye can see |
For
us, being on the road, no matter where, is an exhilarating feeling like no
other. We think our primitive genes are
in constant default mode. After all,
were we not nomadic, going way back when?
So, with Ipad plugged in to the van console, ‘tinnies’ in the
eski/fridge and flip-flops on our feet, we were on our way North to explore the
great unknown. The plan was for us to make it as quickly as
possible up to Broome (our agreed northern-most point) and then meander back
down to Perth. All in, we would be on
the road for @24 nights. The Kimberly
starts from just north of Broome and here the roads and conditions are
challenging, particularly for us ‘rookies’.
Also, unless one is seriously prepared for every eventuality and in a
4wd, it’s not worth the risk. So this
would be ‘the end of the road’ for us, sadly.
We had talked about making it all the way up in to the Northern
Territories but time and experience were
against us.
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| Frilly dragon, hunting for dinner |
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In Broome: Our combi, conveniently parked under a mango tree   |
Because we chose to ‘hoof it’ to Broome and were not driving
along the coast, we got a glimpse of the Real Australia... a bit like a tourist
driving across the state of Florida from Sarasota to West Palm Beach. You see the real McCoy, warts, pimples and
all. Three Springs, and now on our way to MeekatherraWe were now
entering real ‘outback’ and as a
consequence, had to keep a sharp eye on the petrol gauge. Yalgoo was a tiny ‘town’
with a gas station, police station and little else. The gas station was self service and rejected
our international credit/debit cards – all of them. What to do next. I opted for knocking on the door of the local
constabulary to persuade them to sell us some petrol. We decided to chance it to the next gas station 80 miles away in
Mount Magnet, on a quarter . 20 miles on
our journey, with the needle gauge speeding its way to the finish line, we
decided to play it safe and return to Yalgoo and hope for a solution.
No sense in finding ourselves
high and dry on the Aussie highway, with nothing for company but lizards, the
odd swarm of budgerigars and the baking heat.
Probably, within the space of a couple of hours, we had seen four
vehicles on the road. We returned to the
gas station and caught up with an Aussie couple pulling out after having gassed
up. Very kindly they filled us up on
their credit card in exchange for cash and we were on our way again. Meekatharra was our next overnight stop and it
was all we had been told it would be.
The scene in the bar reminded me of quite a few of Bill Bryson’s
encounters in ‘A Sunburned Country’. One
thing that puzzled us (and all would be revealed soon) was how in heavens name
were so many of the out of the way establishments being run by young, engaged
Europeans. What were they doing in the
back of beyond and how did they get here?
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| Road back to Yalgoo for a top up |
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Job hunting at a Road House
Road-Train stop at a Road-House
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By the third day, we were entering national park country
(Karrijini) – we’re now in to our third Indian dinner and VERY pleased
with our contingency plans. Driving the highways in WA can be
mind-numbingly monotonous. Apart from a
huge amount of road kill – kangaroos, wallabys, cattle, emus appear the be the most
vulnerable – the only other occupants of the roads that keep one vigilant are
the ‘road trains’. These juggernauts,
hauling up to three trailers are daunting when one first sees them. They displace not just a huge amount of air, but also a lot of unsuspecting wildlife. So, we
shared the driving every couple of hours and kept lively conversations and
music going. It was wonderful to be on
the road again. Port Headland was our
first major City on the coast and it’s a fine example of how to rape a
beautiful land. The mining companies
have a lot to answer for, but nobody appears to want to ask any questions,
given the vast amounts of revenue being generated for all involved. Needless to say, none of our tourist dollars
got squandered there; for years our policy has been ‘we don’t do ugly’, and
UGLY it certainly is. Our overnight
stop was our first encounter of what we anticipated WA to represent. A campsite, verdant green at this time of
year, surrounded by beautiful trees, overlooking a blue, blue ocean. Wander in to the reception – or at least we
try to – and are stopped short by the manager.
‘Stay where you are’. ‘Don’t come
any closer’. Staff standing on
furniture. A king-brown, one of
Australia’s most venomous snakes was being carefully squished into a sack. Now this is more like the Australia we
expected to encounter. The beach is
beautiful but there’ll be no swimming for us; the tide has brought in wave upon
wave of large brown-tea coloured jelly-fish.
They are everywhere, covering the shoreline. This is the first time we encounter other
campers who, like us are committed to weeks of travel in campers/combis, for
the ‘real Aussie’ experience. Next day,
after playing ‘dodgems’ with the mounds of beach jello, we continue on to
Broome, crossing the Tropic of Capricorn en route. So, now we are officially in the tropics with
its attendant variety of exotic birds, mammals and plants - Big lizards with
frills, cane toads, salties, flocks of budgerigars, parrots and cockatoos.
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| Galahs and cockatoos hanging out at the Road House |
Road houses, as petrol stations are known in this part of the
world (perhaps because they serve the needs of road trains?) are staffed
principally by European students (an AHA moment), , able to earn a
whopping $25 an hour, and little to
spend their pay-checks on. A few we
spoke to talked about how they were able to fund their studies with this
lucrative student-work. French, German, Brit, Italian; you get almost every
nationality working these joints, serving up the crappiest junk food you can
imagine. A young German served us a
simple toasted egg sandwich and got that wrong. How do they feed themselves at home, we
wonder.
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| Karijini National Park, wathcing Jelte have an early am swim. Too slimy for Christine to attempt  Alternatively, great showers at the Tourist Information Office!! |
Broome: as advertised by the local tourist office - one of the
most beautiful beaches in the world – is an exaggeration. But we did
swim in lovely blue, warm water with no stingers or salties to threaten us.
We've decided to hang out here for a few more days, do a much needed load
of laundry and enjoy the tropics. The
campsite we’ve decided on is secluded and boasts mango, neem, and coconut trees
everywhere. The mangoes are still green
but we pluck a few and make a sharp, mouth-puckering salad. We also teach our Tasmanian neighbours how to
make a refreshing mango fool dessert, with their kids o-d’ing on this dish for days until one of them broke out in
hives ... go slow on the turpentine, guys!!
The large, dragon lizards hung about in the trees above every night and
helped themselves to the local birds and fruit.
We visited the Chinese and Japanese cemeteries (the demise of the pearl
divers of the early 20th century), searched in vain for dinosouar
footprints along the cliffs, had a
change of diet from ready-prepared Indian dishes, enjoyed the beaches and moved
back on down to 80-mile beach and its infestation of jelly-fish. Yep!
They were still dropping in in waves, so once again, no swimming for us. But the spectacular sunsets and wonderful outlook of the campsite. made up for this.
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| Our camp spot at Giralia Station |
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| Station horses, staff, us and wide, wide expanses |
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Open air pantree
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Port Sampson, Karratha (more evidence of land-rape), and
Onslow for a quick stop for a nice fish meal – sadly, there was nothing else to
persuade us to linger – and on to our first Station stay at Giralia. We arrived just before sunset and were shown
a spot under some casurina trees (these are known as she-oaks in
Australia). With the wind blowing
through them all night, one is lulled to sleep by this beautiful, gentle
whispering. The sky is unbelievably
beautiful, with the milky way strutting its stuff and nothing else around,
apart from the Station horses ambling around the grounds. It’s at times like this when the sense of
peace one feels is truly physical; it’s right there, sitting on your chest,
while you lie on your mattress, with the only one you want to share this with, the windows of the combi open to the cool wind and night
sounds and the changing skyline. Utter Bliss and more to come......
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