Bungling around in WA

Here's a story from our time in Western Australia, high up in the tropics. The setting is Kununarra, it's mid-May and we've almost reached the Northern Territory border after leaving Perth in April. 

The weather is sunny, real sunny, the kind that makes you squint even with sunglasses on. It isn't even 8am, but we're standing by the road outside the Ivanhoe caravan park, dressed, fed and feeling only slightly dopey from last night's wine. A bus rolls up, not the one we were looking for, but ours anyway, and four junctions later we pull into the airport. There's a check-in desk, but no need to check in. We don't have any check-in baggage, so they weigh us instead, and I joke we shouldn't have had seconds at dinner. 

Aviator Moustache. He walks over. Points at a map and briefs us on the route, then we're on the tarmac with the wind in our faces. A glance at the windsock tells me it's a nor-westerly, but this is a return mission so there's nothing to gain from the tailwind. Aviator Moustache runs through basic safety then asks "who's taking the seat up front?" There are two guys up close who face each other in a murmured show of you're-welcome-no-please-I-insist, but they're too late, because before they even start talking, my hand is up and I've called it. There are times to be polite and there are times to play at be the copilot.

We taxi into position and I confirm with control before increasing the fuel mix. The light plane jostles with the wind as we pick up speed, holding on to the runway until I ease the control column back, flick some switches at random and bank sharply to avoid the incoming Messerschmidt. We gain altitude quickly to avoid trouble, then I transfer control and take up navigation and photographic duties, mapping enemy lines and identifying key strategic defence positions like these stunning hills and this dam.

The flight path takes us away from Kununarra and the Ord River irrigation system, and then in turn up the Lake Argyle spillway, which has category 6 rapids in the wet season (on a scale of 1-7, 6 means really big white water). We pass a ridge and the view opens up to Lake Argyle itself, which is so big it awes us. The pilot spurts facts: normal surface area 1,000 square kilometres; 25,000 freshwater (the smaller type) crocs; superquintillionbillionlots of water. We don't listen, just gape and take photos. We take ages to pass the lake, but the scenery changes dramatically as we do. The hills are straight line ridges, sawtooth in profile, with rivers trickling slowly and half the valley hidden from the sunlight. In the wet season, these streams would be massive rivers, but that seems unlikely right now at the start of the dry. On and on we go, the hills green and sandy. The pilot tells us we'll swing round the Piccanniny area then land for our tour. What he doesn't say right then is that the Piccaninny is an ancient meteorite crater, 7km wide and amazing from the air. We see the Bungle Bungle range, smooth and stripy, the rocks in waves, domes and massifs. Red and black, red and black, the blue-green of low eucalypt scrub and the intense blue sky: the colours are vivid. Aviator Moustache guides the plane round to allow us a better look before aiming us at the dirt line airstrip. 

On the ground there's a bus waiting for us, a big 4x4 truck that looks like an airport catering vehicle with windows and a plump Jolly Old Guy who introduces himself as our tour guide. He is knowledgable about the plants we pass, even stopping the bus to pick sweet-smelling bush tucker flowers for us. I'm grateful for the huge suspension on the bus as we career down the car-width dirt road; this is definitely not a road for our wagon. A patch of tarmac appears on the road ahead of us and we slow down as it's too potholed to take at normal dirt-road speed. Jolly Old Guy says there's a creek so they used tarmac to stop the road flowing away in the wet, but now it's too far away for them to maintain! As we arrive at the carpark, the Bungles come full into view, rising over the scrub. The hills seem to sprout hills of their own, bumps on bumps, and all stripy. As one, the whole group ignores the scene while heading to the toilets, but amaze as they return. We're up close now and it's nothing like the view from the air. The rocks are rough, crumbled and breaking, and the hills abruptly ramp up from the dirt before gradually flattening in to domes. As we walk along dry sandy stream beds, Jolly Old Guy tells us that the Bungles were formed by a huge river and flood system, that the red layers are finer sandy material laid down gradually as an ancient river flowed this way. When that old river flooded, it flooded dramatically, dragging down huge quantities of silty sand, clay and small pebbles, which formed layers with the finer sand. The thing is, he tells us, those layers aren't red, aren't black, so why are these hills coloured? The silty layers are a better growing surface for green algae, which thrive in the wet season but die back in the dry season and turn the rock black, while the sandy layers don't have the mineral content to sustain the algae, but do have enough in them to support the microbes that make Australia's 'red centre' red, just like in pictures of Uluru / Ayers Rock. To prove it, Jolly Old Guy stops and points out a recent rock fall. The freshly uncovered rock is pale, quartzy and not at all red or black.

There are snakes here, including poisonous kinds. There are dingoes too, and undoubtedly a plethora of nasty spiders, but we don't see any. In fact, we mostly only see cane toads, many of them desiccated in the bottom of empty rock pools. They reached here a few years ago, and decimated the local fauna populations through poisoning the predators, though at least the native frogs don't seen to be being out-competed. Jolly Old Guy points out edible plant after unusual animal after taxonomic speculation (the sandpaper figs may have two distinct populations - fine-grain leaf versus coarse leaf - which he hasn't seen documented anywhere), while we wander up to Cathedral Gorge with its waterfall, pool and excellent acoustics. We eat our packed lunches and giggle as another tourist's fart echoes. 

On the way back to the bus, we look at the water marks on the walls of the gorge. This wouldn't be a place for walking in the wet. Over in that corner, a vertical crack has put clear sky between a huge pillar and the rest of the gorge, and nearest us lies a family car-sized boulder with no obvious source. Away from the two permanent waterholes in this gorge, the greenery gives way to scrub, and it's a lot harder to visualise the wet season from here than it was from the air. 

Helicopters have been zooming around all day, but by the time we get back to the airstrip, only Aviator Moustache and our Cessna remain. He's been shooting the breeze with the off-duty helicopter pilots all day, what a job. I cede my copilot seat to Annie and take up position as the tail gunner in the back row and pull the cargo door shut behind me. Taking off is far less exciting at this end of the plane, and despite size of the plane and the dirt runway, it's as smooth as a shorthaul flight to Europe on an Avro turboprop. The similarities with commercial flights end pretty shortly after take off as we bank towards the massif. Aviator Moustache likes this part of the job, you can tell, roaring close to the top of the hills, dropping a wing to let us see straight down a huge gorge, then circling back for the other side to see. He takes us over all the main gorges we've heard of in the brochures, providing commentary as we go, until all too soon we've left the stripes and long shadows of the hills and are heading North, over the ski jumps, the cattle paths and winding streams. We've one last attraction left, flying over and round the end of a ridge that has been half eaten by machinery, and as he tells us the story of the Argyle diamond mine's discovery, we marvel. 

We land as the sun finally passes below the horizon, tired, excited and thoroughly satisfied with a memorable day out. It was the kind of day to make a year's diversion worthwhile (ha! Like we needed it to be made worthwhile!), and fully worth the upgrade from just a scenic flight. A great big thank-you to Annie's mum for the help, and to the rest of you, I hope this description goes some way to sharing with you what was a wonderful experience.

Broome to Kununurra: Down the road, mate.

We arrived in Broome and opted for a caravan site within walking distance of the town and importantly, the brewery. For those not in the know, Broome is home to Matso's Brewery, best known for their flavoured beers including lychee, ginger, chilli and mango. We paid a visit there for dinner too and it was great. We arrived just minutes before the heavens opened and some rather torrential rain both near flooded the streets and emptied the beer garden. Thankfully, we were sat on the covered veranda which was a great vantage point from which to soak up the tropical atmosphere.
We also paid a visit to the night markets with an array of crafts and street food. We sampled a banana spring roll and yes, it was as darn-deep-fried-delicious as it sounds.
The next day, we walked around town to check out the old buildings and see the restored pearling luggers that are on display. Pearls really put Broome on the map, with early divers being of indigenous or Japanese origin. Needless to say, it was a very dangerous occupation. Nowadays, the pearls are farmed and harvested by machines but the results are extremely beautiful.
In the late afternoon, we caught the bus with the friendliest driver around, to visit Cable Beach. Cable Beach is probably one of Australia's best known beaches owing to the spectacular sunsets seen from there. For our visit, beer in hand, we watched the sun oozing into the ocean, burning bright orange all the while, it really was quite amazing. Broome is also known for a phenomena known as stairway to the moon, at certain tides and when the moon is full, the reflection on the mud flats resembles a stairway you could climb to the moon. We decided it would be a great way to follow up the sunset, so we headed there, just on the edge of our caravan park. We drank more beer and waited. And waited. And waited some more before deciding it was too cloudy and we probably wouldn't see it anyway. So much for that!
The following day we departed Broome to begin the long drive to Kununurra, the next big settlement on our trip. It's only down the road, a distance of 1043km so we took about three days to do it. We called in at Fitzroy Crossing information centre and booked ahead for some tours before driving out to Geikie Gorge for a walk and a picnic lunch. The walk ran alongside the limestone cliffs but it was hot and dusty in the gorge so we didn't walk for too long. There is a gazebo which provides welcome shade but also numerous information panels about the park and wildlife. What was most fascinating was seeing the aerial photos from when the river was in flood. Inside the gazebo the flood level was marked on the walls by year. Including a couple of labels that said the level had reached 2 metres above the roof which itself was a good ten metres high! The flooding occurs every wet season with varying degrees of severity. It is just amazing to think how resilient these flood bound communities are, often they are cut off for significant amounts of time. It makes sense suddenly why everyone has massive high clearance 4x4 vehicles. As for me, the wet season is a totally alien concept and I struggle to get my head around it.
We spent the night at the top of Ngumban Cliffs with beautiful views and a spectacular sunset.
The following morning, it was a short drive to the Mimbi caves, where we joined an indigenous led tour. Our guide, Ronnie, walked us through the network of limestone caves, all the while explaining Aboriginal customs and culture and sharing with us Dreamtime stories. We saw some Aboriginal rock art and we also visited a very sacred birthing cave. It was very interesting to hear the dream time stories, and we spent some time with our guide singing songs around the camp fire, drinking billy tea and eating damper (a sort of soda bread thing) drizzled with honey.
We had a long drive still to Kununurra and when we arrived there, it felt like an oasis after the unending hot and dusty roads. Importantly we discovered the Wild Mango Cafe, serving not only proper coffee but incredible gelato as well. Heaven. Kununurra seems like a decent and bustling little community so for us it was the perfect base from which nto explore The Bungle Bungles, more on that next time.

Gladstone to Broome: flooded roads and bemused cows

After visiting Shark Bay and seeing Dolphins, we spent the night at Gladstone campground. A sprawling beachside camp run by the nearby station (massive farm). It was a great spot, even if it was over some very craggy dirt road to get there. The road was only recently dry and our car just about coped with it, but we have decided to limit our dirt road access since. We parked up facing the ocean and Tom marched off along the pier to try his luck at fishing. He did catch a little'un but sadly, no fishy on our dishy that night. It was only $5 each for the night, a bargain for a beautiful, secluded spot.

From Gladstone, we drove to Carnarvon, known for producing a lot of good fruit and veg, but we didn't have much luck finding any. In fact we found it to be a bit of a disappointment so decided to continue on toward Coral Bay as planned.  This plan was scuppered when the road there was flooded. We saw the sign reading 'Traffic Hazard' as we approached and that can mean anything from pot holes, to gravel on the road and also evidently, flooding. We pulled to one side while we contemplated the flow of water across the road and watched as people stopped and then thought 'screw it' before driving/floating through the river. When one car was quite clearly pushed sideways by the torrent, we decided not to risk it - we've had enough car trouble for the time being thank you very much. So we doubled back towards the highway and aimed for Nunatarra, a lonely roadhouse on a long stretch of highway.
It turned into a long day, having woken up at sunrise we realised it would be after sunset by the time we got there, not only that but we were starting to run low on petrol, not great anywhere but especially not great in this part of the world. One of the great features of the car is that it can tell us how many km's we can do before the tank is empty. We realised that we would have enough to get us to the roadhouse for a refill, so we slowed down to ease petrol consumption and arrived with 60km left in the tank, a bit too close for comfort. Speaking of close calls, as we've mentioned before, we try not to drive after sunset because the risk of hitting wildlife is that much greater, and the kind of wildlife we're talking about can do a huge amount of damage. So it was all eyes out front and into the darkness as we drove onwards. We spotted a group of cows in the headlights and they were grazing on both sides of the road. We slowed right down to a near stop to ease past them when at the last second one cow spooked and ran across the road in front of us. Thankfully, we were going so slowly, we were able to stop and the cow made it across to where her friends were. All the while another cow in the group regarded us with utmost nonchalance as if to ask 'what is this shiny red thing and why are those humans looking at us?' A lot of the roads are unfenced and cows are left to wander huge amounts of land for grazing, often with good grass beside the road, compared to the scrub beyond it. Most of the cows we pass don't even look up so I wonder if it's more dangerous to slow down than it is to speed past them. All I know for sure is that you can't predict how the cow might behave.
Once at the roadhouse, we had some celebratory beers and fried food before planning or re-jigging our itinerary. We made a big compromise that is sometimes necessary on a big trip like ours. We decided not to go to Exmouth and the Ningaloo reef as it would take a long time and it's a big double back. We decided instead to head to Karijini National Park, and now we can say that we were very happy about that decision. Karijini is in the heart of the Pilbara, an area in the north of WA that is known for its dramatic landscape (as well as numerous iron ore mines). The drive through the Pilbara was spectacular, undulating hills and craggy rocky outcrops, cliffs and mountains all an iron rich, burnished red colour. We called in at Tom Price (yes, that's the name of a town, named after a mining prospector) to find out about the national park, especially how much of it we could access in our two wheel drive car. While there we also paid a visit to the WA mobile butcher! A massive truck that drives through rural WA every fortnight (around 4000km) providing good value, good quality meat for the area. Needless to say, we bought some steak and sausages for the barbie.
We arrived at the national park in time to camp and, importantly, eat the steak.
The next morning we set off on a hike through the national park where we climbed down a steep path into the gorge before following the bed of the gorge, all the while contemplating how different it would be in the wet season. We headed first to circular pool, a beautiful natural swimming hole at the base of the huge red cliffs. It was a cold swim, but very relaxing and refreshing. We were fortunate enough to have the pool to ourselves for a short while, but it wasn't long before a couple of tour groups came along so we marched off to get some distance. The geology of the area is fascinating, veins of blue asbestos lying in plain view along the footpath as well as ochre deposits and of course plenty of iron ore. After walking through much of Dales Gorge, we came to another swimming pool, Fortescue Falls and as the name suggests, there was a wonderful waterfall cascading into one end of the pool. It is a beautiful place and it's easy to see why it's so sacred to the local Aboriginal people. We had another quick swim before heading up to the car to resume our drive in the direction of Port Headland.
So we drove along the Great Northern Highway, an unforgiving section of road with road trains thundering past us in all directions. Port Headland, while an important shipping point for all that ore, is particularly expensive to stay, we're talking $50 a night, and for that reason we decided to skip it. We did have the pleasure of watching a huge mining train go by, over 2km long. We opted instead to stay a nearby rest area that's free to stop overnight, De Grey River. Cows roamed through to the river to get a drink and it was great listening to them wander through.
Next stop: Broome

The Shipwreck Coast, or how we saw lots of animals

We afforded little time to Geraldton, preferring to make progress on our journey North. In all, we did three things in 'Gero', which after discounting the predictable town-stop activities of 1) lunch and 2) buying more food, really means we did one thing, a visit to another (after Perth, Freo and Albany) branch of the WA Museum. The predictable local-interest main exhibition was engaging and informative, with experience-enhancing props I'd expect only of museums twice the size. My favourite was the fully-restored aeroplane, which flew the first mail service in WA. Its survival and presence was remarkable, as even on the first flight, one of the three planes crashed in the bush with the loss of both pilot and mechanic. The special galleries were very good, with Annie's favourite the coverage of the Zuytdorp and Batavia wrecks on this treachourous coast. 

After a short stretch of the North West Coastal Highway, we turned off to Coronation Beach, with a sheltering reef and quiet campsite. We stayed late the next day whilst I fumbled ineptly on the beach with my new (and first) fishing rod, before hitting the road again for Kalbarri. 

We both like wildlife, as the number of wombat/koala/kangaroo photos on Annie's camera will attest, and thanks for some great zoos and national parks we have seen many many antipodean critters. Missing, however, have been the monotremes, which are either reclusive or had escaped their enclosures. It was then a stroke of luck when Annie cried out on an annoyingly slow 60-zone and we saw an echidna ambling by. Like a big hedgehog, but stretched out, he (she? it?) was quite unconcerned with our understanding that it was only active at dawn and dusk. Actually, I don't think I can support the widely advised dawn/dusk activity pattern for Aussie animals - they do what they want when they want, and road traffic be damned. 

Kalbarri is annoyingly pretty, one of those places that will always look like paradise even when it's raining a storm, or in the driest, ground-baking-est scorcher the Aussie summer can provide. My unwarranted hostility on seeing the splendour of reef breaks next to a tranquil lagoon, and seeing jagged sandstone cliffs looking over soft grassy sandbanks, was only assuaged by my mom not being in Oz yet. She'd want to up sticks and move here immediately, and the travel distance for family get-togethers would be silly. There would be plenty of local animals to stock her dream menagerie, though my fishing efforts need a drastic improvement before they could provide for her aquatic section. I stood by the water right through sunset until the seagulls stole an almost whole pack of bait, but in my defence, no-one else had any fishing luck that night either. 

Our body clocks are slowly resetting to match the sun, so it wasn't much of a struggle to rise and start packing at first light. We drive a few kilometres out of town to the Big River Ranch, where we had booked onto a horse riding tour. Annie was excited to be riding again, describing herself as an intermediate rider, a stark constraint to my trepidation and obvious lack of experience. We were introduced to our horses and told of their natures: Kiwi the laid-back dude for me, and Barney the playful egotist for Annie. The riding was surprisingly easy, nose-to-tail in a line of six with two guides and the horses knew what to expect. Until we went for a run, that is. During the run, for which I held on for dear life, Kiwi cut corners, jumped past Annie in line, led the others on an impromptu path-making session via a dead bush, and got lost, though unlike the rest that wasthe girl in front's fault for pulling her horse up. Phew! I was shattered after all that adventure, and that exhaustion doesn't even factor in my sore lungs from laughing; my horse pooed mid-river and floated towards a horrified Annie! Elated and feeling reckless, we left Kalbarri on the East road, stopping in at the National Park gorges. Why reckless? We'd been to so many other national parks in WA, we decided not to pay the entry fee here. And on that rock and roll note, we drove a 500km round trip diversion to Denham / Shark Bay World Heritage site, just to see some dolphins. 

I've noticed a split in travellers here: those who enjoy the outback and those who think it's 'just the bush' and can't tell mulga from eucalypts. The crux seems to be how much the landscape changes in, say, a three-hour drive. Let me warn you, even David Attenborough would have been pulling his hair out in frustrated boredom, if he'd been with us on that drive to Denham. You may now be wondering if it was at all worth it, and, unfortunately for future travellers, I have to say it was. Let's ignore the overpriced caravan park and the neighbouring camper who mistook our get-lost-it's-tea-time look for an entreating come-talk-at-us, and get right to it. We saw baby emus being inexpertly shepherded across the road by a parent. We were within touching distance of two fully aware wild dolphins, who swam on their sides to get a better look at us while their pups span, jumped and chased back and forth (at Monkey Mia). We saw beaches made entirely of the shells from the tiny bivalves that proliferate in Shark Bay's hypersaline southern reaches, the sea grass meadows from an excellent high clifftop viewpoint (though sadly no dugongs at this time of year), and we even saw evidence that the entire area was tropical and mangrove-covered only 4000 years ago. In short, the monotonous drive to Denham was completely worth it, and we really should have broken up the boredom of the drive in with some of the picturesque rest-stops, instead of saving them all for the way out!

Readers of Bryson may have picked up on an omission in my list if wonders in the Shark Bay area, though I've not been specific with place names and his 'Down Under' did come out in the 90s. After a long bus trip, he dismounts and baffles at the appeal of some slimy rocks, namely stromatolites. Hamelin Pool is a famous site for viewin these ancient microbial colonies, and it's about as interesting as slimy rocks can get to the non-biology-specialist. The slime colonies are protected by boardwalks and boating restrictions, but what the info boards don't tell you is that these particular stromatolites can only have been there for several thousand (not million) years - the sea level changes have completely reshaped this area several times over since then. It's nice they're protected where they are, but they're actually quite common in this bay, to the extent that you can drive your 4x4 over them (to launch a boat) at the campsite we stayed in that night, a lovely station stay called Gladstone. 

Sadly that brought our journey's biology lessons to an end for a while, but don't worry, we've still plenty to recount. Next up: The Pilbara!

Yornaning to Geraldton: Overheating in the rain

Technically, this comes before the previous post but somehow the other one got sent first!!! 

Form Yornaning we continued North and noted the change in the landscape. The lush hills and forrests of The Great Southern region gave way to farm land and huge wheat fields as we headed through the wheat belt of Western Australia. We stopped for lunch in York, a lovely old town and WA's oldest inland settlement. It has a beautiful Town Hall building and many others besides. We took a day trip here from Perth and as it was on our way, we couldn't resist another look as well as another visit to Jules Cafe, a wonderful spot for lunch - how convenient!

We drove on through some lovely countryside and stopped at another winery before heading into Gingin and paying a visit to the Gravity Discovery Centre. It's a fun interactive science centre focussed on gravity and you can do a range of experiments to demonstrate various aspects of gravity, magnetic field and so on. They also have an excellent cosmology gallery all about the evolution of earth and the ascent of man. Unfortunately we arrived within one hour of closing so although we got to see everything, we rather had to skip round which was a shame. By the time we had finished it was 4pm which is when we usually aim for camp and annoyingly, when the rain really started coming down. We pulled into a rest area for the night and hunkered down with wine and books hoping the incessant rain would clear by the morning... 

Luckily for us, the rain stopped and we woke to blue skies and white fluffy clouds albeit with a rather incessant wind. We took a short drive to Guilderton for a caffeine fix before heading north along Indian Ocean Drive. We hadn't gone very far, 30km maybe when the dashboard beeped at me, ENGINE HOT flashing on the display. Shit. There's not really a hard shoulder on this road, a vague patch of gravel to one side at best. When the road straightened out a bit, we found a spot to pull over and Tom took a look under the bonnet. We weren't losing either oil or coolant so it wasn't easy to assess why we had overheated. For the second time on the trip, we called roadside assistance and were towed to the nearest town, Lancelin. Thankfully, it was on our way and only 12km down the road. It would have helped if the roadside team had given the tow truck the correct instructions, but you can't have everything can you? As it happened, we were the only red commodore pulled over that day and the truck soon came to our rescue. The mechanic made a quick assessment as to what caused the issue, given that we had put in a new radiator during our time in Perth. It was the thermostat. Even more luck was on our side that day as they had the part in stock and so we knew we'd be ready to go sooner rather than later. All told we were waiting for about two and a half hours in a charming seaside community on a pretty blustery day. The heavens opened once more, just as we got back to the car.

Owing to the engine trouble, rather than make it to Geraldton as planned, we pulled in for the night at Cervantes. On the way, we called in to visit the remarkable Pinnacles Desert. The pinnacles are pretty amazing limestone formations sticking out of the flat sand around them. They are rather striking, with an other-worldly quality. We saw them as the sun was beginning to set, bathed in orange light. Not too long before the rain caught up with us there as well!!! It follows us around I swear. The discovery centre gave some interesting info on the wildlife at the Pinnacles as well as various theories as to how they were formed, but no one really knows for sure. 

The next day, we woke early to beat the cleaners, that is to say, we had to access the bathroom before they closed it for cleaning. I can't understand why, when check out is 10am, you would close the bathroom between 7:30 and 8:30am? I remain incredulous.

On our way out of Cervantes, we called in at Lake Thetis to see the Stromatolites. Stromatolites are microorganisms found in certain conditions and were instrumental in the development of life on earth. They are believed to be the world's oldest living organisms and the saltiness of the lake meant that they are able to survive with little disturbance. From there it was off to Geraldton, the biggest town for quite some time. 

Rewind 1: Tidal River to Bendigo - Oil leak the second

So, as promised, I want to continue some of what we did before our arrival in Perth, as it was great and it shouldn't be ignored. These backtracks are for our own benefit as much as anything so if you're not interested in stuff we did last year, then stop reading now. When we last rewound, we detailed you with tails of sandwich-stealing seagulls and snuffly wombats and all the majesty that is Wilson's Promontory National Park. Cue flashback:

The drive from Tidal River to Warburton was rather long and once again we found ourselves having to battle with vague maps and poor signage. We hadn't had breakfast and our hopes of making up for it in Fish Creek were dashed as the decent looking cafe was closed. The next town along, Leongatha had a better offering (one that was open!) and we were able to get an eggy fix as well as a good amount of caffeine.
We drove through beautiful forests to Warburton, a lovely town on the edge of the Yarra Valley, you guessed it, one of Australia's most famous wine regions. We called in to Chandon, the Australian outpost of the famous Moet Chandon company. They have a beautiful winery and cellar door and even offer self-guided tours around parts of the winery with explanatory panels for each stage of the winemaking process. We also visited a brewery (makes a change!), this was White Rabbit the sister brewery to Little Creatures based in WA. Next door (conveniently) was Giant Steps winery, not as welcoming as some we've been to, but still some decent wines and we came away with a couple of bottles.

From the Yarra Valley we drove along winding roads through Healesville and Marysville, both devastated by bush fires in 2009 when 34 people lost their lives.  Signs of the fires still remain but they are thriving and creative communities nonetheless and continuing to rebuild. We made for Alexandra and a decent free camp just outside of the town. We were finally enjoying some sunshine, our drive North was spurred by hopes of sun and we found it, for now at least. Alexandra is a lovely little town and we were thrilled to find Redgate Espresso, a lovely cafe with free WiFi and free iPads on which to surf! How very modern! We spent two nights here owing to the fact that the Melbourne cup was on which meant bank holiday, which meant crowds everywhere. Thankfully the crowds failed to materialise in our little pocket of Alexandra and we were rather pleased about that.

From Alexandra we took a slightly indirect route to Bendigo. We had to stop by the brilliantly named village of Break O Day and we stopped for lunch at Flowerdale. Somewhere on the way Annie was struck by the realisation that her shoes which had been safely stowed under the car, were probably still there. Only the car had moved and the shoes were still at the campsite, they could still be there now! We headed to Flowerdale, not only because Annie's name is Flower, but because the local hotel (and by hotel they mean pub) had won best Parmigiana in 2012 as awarded by The Hotelier's Association of Australia. We had one for lunch (to share as they are generally huge) and it was truly excellent. We have explained the beauty of the Aussie classic Parmy once before but as a refresher it is: a crumbed chicken breast, topped with a slice of leg ham, covered in napolitana sauce and topped with melted cheese. Phwoar.

On the road, we also discovered one of our favourite wineries, Rees Miller. He only had Pinot Noir for tasting (like we care) but it was all organic and it was delicious. He was a very interesting person to chat to as well and even sold us a copy of his self sufficiency magazine! We spent the night at Greater Bendigo National Park which was a bit of an arse to get to but free which was all we needed. The next day when visiting Bendigo town centre, we pulled up outside the information centre to collect some leaflets. On our exit from the building, we saw a huge pool of oil coming from our car. Rather than move it, we called Roadside Assistance (a 12 month membership had been included when we bought the car). We scrambled to get a few things out from the car before they took it away and we stayed in a cabin at a nearby caravan park. Unfortunately the garage wasn't open that day, being a Saturday so we had to wait a couple of days in Bendigo until it could be fixed, but the important thing was that it got fixed!

Bendigo is a real gold rush town and it shows in the magnificent buildings.  During our time there, we visited the Central Deborah Goldmine and took a tour down below which was fantastic. Wearing hard hats and lights we went down into the mine as though we were a mining crew, our guide was our boss. We had a drilling demonstration and inspected the operations as our boss determined whether we were up to the job of miner, invariably we were not. The mine was worked on 17 levels and is no longer operating other than for tourist purposes. In its time it removed over 1000kg of gold.

Gold was first discovered at nearby Ravenswood in 1851 and by the 1860s diggers were no longer tripping over surface nuggets so the deep mining began. Many mines operated in the town and ripumour has it you can walk from one end of town to the other completely underground.

We also visited the excellent Regional Art Gallery and the Golden Dragon Museum and Gardens. The museum is home to two impressive imperial dragons, Old Loong is the oldest in the world and Sun Loong which is the longest in the world at over 100m long. Old Long is retired but Sun Loong still makes an appearance now and then. The museum also details the life and inevitable hardship of immigrant workers in the mines during the gold rush.

When we were finally reunited with the car, we continued North toward the border of New South Wales. More on that next time.

Peaceful Bay to Yornaning

From Peaceful Bay, we drove back through Denmark and on to lovely Cosy Corner, a free camp site near West Cape Howe National Park, though not part of the park itself. It's a small and unsurprisingly popular camp ground as not only is it free, but it is very sheltered and only metres from the beach, and as a bonus the loos were pretty OK too!!! We camped amid peppermint trees which had intertwined to form a perfect canopy over the camp ground and as there aren't many camping spots, we were lucky to have arrived when we did. Tom will attest to the fact that I can be annoyingly particular when it comes to camp spots, but on this occasion there was really only one to choose from! Being a freebie, we opted to spend two nights here even though it was still quite rainy.

When the rain eased, we explored the beach and tried to do a bit of fishing but our only catch was seaweed and lots of it. We also admired the nocturnal visitors, particularly a brave little marsupial which I first thought was a rat. Then I was convinced it was a Gilbert's Potaroo, Australia's rarest marsupial, but later research showed it to be a Quenda, a type of Bandicoot. Nonetheless, he was cute and pretty fearless as he foraged by our feet.

After a nice couple of days in Cosy Corner, it was on to Albany, our last stop on the South Coast. A nice, reasonably large town with lots of beautiful old buildings and very friendly locals who shared with us their enthusiasm for the town and the region. First stop was the Boatshed market to check out some local produce and so on before heading to the Albany outpost of the Museum of WA. They had a very interesting exhibition about the Second World War and the role of Australian soldiers in East Timor. It is fascinating to learn about the war from this part of the world and it really brings home the reality of the worldwide impact of a part of history that we are really only taught a snapshot of.

Being a Sunday, not much was open in Albany so we decided to head to another free campsite, Norman's beach set in the beautiful Whydachincup National Park. We drove about 50km out of our way along mostly dirt track for this site for no reason other than it was free, but it was worth it as we had the place to ourselves! We pulled up to a small parking area /camp ground and read the info about the beach, named for the three Norman brothers who at one time owned much of the land nearby. The parking area was lined to one side with trees and as the ground sloped away, it became evident that some of the trees were standing in water, as though there was a lake there, though no lake was marked on the map. We took the path over the dunes that led to the beach and from this higher vantage point we realised that this was Norman's inlet, once connected to the ocean, it is now separated by the sandy beach and so it makes it more lake than inlet. As we followed the path round and reached the staircase that led us to the beach, we both let out a WOW at the scenery around us. It felt very remote and it was very beautiful. To our left, a high rocky hilltop half covered by cloud, dark green trees interspersed with large granite outcrops. In front of and below us, a pristine sandy beach and the azure blue of the ocean with pounding surf. To our right, the bay curved round with more rocks protruding into the sea and more hillsides rising in the distance. All along the beach, big granite rocks were emerging from the sand and even in the greyness and drizzle of the afternoon, we couldn't fail to be in awe of some of the best scenery we have seen thus far. It is a thoroughly special place and I hope to add some photos before too long.

The following day was back to Albany to stock up before we began to head North. It occurs to me that Albany is a very friendly town for us travellers. Free internet in the library and WiFi that works outside as well. Free plugs to charge your gadgets, free showers and loos, free drinking water for campers and a microbrewery! Or so we thought, it turns out that they don't have a brewer right now which is a real shame! Anyway, Albany seems like a pretty great place to me.

That afternoon we drove up to Mount Barker to visit the marvellous winery known as Plantagenet. As luck would have it, I was tasting again, such a hardship. They have some amazing wines and pretty good value too, I would say that though (we did get 15% off!). We came away with 4 bottles: An Off-dry Riesling, an oaked Sauvignon Blanc, a Cabernet Merlot and a Syrah. While in Mt Barker, we paid a visit to the butcher and bought some Jarrah smoked bacon for the next day's breakfast and lunch. It was delicious!

From there it was 20km down the road to Porongurup, a very small settlement nestled in the hills of Porongurup National Park, somewhere we weren't even planning to visit until we saw some pictures of it in Albany and were recommended it by some locals. On our arrival at the little caravan park, we were assured by the owner we had chosen a good time to arrive as there forecast was good for the following day. She was right and we woke to blue skies for the first time on the trip! We climbed up to Castle Rock in the National Park and walked to its summit where there is The Granite Skywalk, an amazing metal walkway attached to the granite rocks and allowing impressive views over the surrounding areas. From there, to the South we could see Norman's inlet and we also looked North toward the dramatic Stirling Range, where we were heading. Access to the Stirling Range National Park is somewhat limited so we decided to just drive a little closer and have our picnic lunch with a good view. They rise dramatically from the flat plains and are covered with such thick green scrub they look as though they are wrapped in wool. We drove for a few more hours, picking up the Great Southern Highway and stopping on the way at Gnowangerup and Wagin. Wagin is home to another of Australia's big things which we have mentioned before, Wagon is home Rambo, the big ram. Wagin is in the heart of a region that seems to exclusively have Merino sheep and Rambo came into being in 1985. From Wagon we realised we were in easy reach of another free camp, Yornaning Dam so headed there for the night.

Yallingup to Denmark

We left Yallingup and set off for the famous Margaret River wine region. In an area such as this, with over 100 vineyards it's certainly difficult to choose where to go even if they don't all operate cellar doors. A chance visit to the big Waterstones on London's Piccadilly a few weeks before our departure saw me pick up the perfect book to see us through this dilemma and guide us for what has become an integral part of our travels: wine. The Glovebox Guide to Wine Touring by Greg Duncan Powell covers 48 Australian wine regions (who knew there were so many?)  and has been an invaluable guide to our cellar door visits with maps, contact info and opening hours and even recommending places to line our stomachs. Fear not, we are responsible and whoever isn't tasting gets to drive!! Somehow, it happened that Tom was driving through Margaret River so I had the pleasure of tasting the wines at three lovely vineyards, two from the book and one being somewhere Tom was keen to visit. To  quote the opening sentence on the region from our book: "If you were God and you could design a wine region from scratch you'd probably come up with something that looks, tastes and feels like Margaret River." I could tell it was going to be a tough day...

Between us, Tom is definitely the wine connoisseur so I can rely on him to talk knowledgeably with the staff at each cellar door while I make appreciative sounds, quaffing each sample and muttering about tannins and 'The Nose' or bouquet, if you will. In Margaret River we started with Clairault wines and then went on to Brookland Valley, owned by the well-known-back-home Hardy's. Set near a large lake amid lovely gardens, the cellar door itself felt like a National Trust gift shop so we felt compelled to wander around admiring the stuff (much of it not even wine related) before admitting that we just want to taste the stuff, please. A nice lady talked us through the selections and discussed the region with us. She also let us pet Lily, the resident dog of the vineyard so that was lovely.

We made a pitstop for lunch in the lovely country town, Margaret River that gives the region its name and added to our ever expanding collection of leaflets at the visitor centre before heading into the final vineyard. Stella Bella was the one that Tom wanted to visit as he has known of it for a long time, it's a family-run vineyard of great quality and reputation. The cellar door here was a bit more like someone had built a bar in a shed and I don't mean that as a bad thing. It was lovely and a friendly English lady took us through the selections here and we may have acquired a bottle or two.

After all the rigours of wine tasting, it was time to find a place to camp so we headed back toward the coast to Cape Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park and stayed in a wooded campsite run by Department for Environment and Conservation called Conto Beach. In the morning, we were rewarded for our early rise by a close encounter with a kangaroo and her Joey. It was lovely to see them potter around foraging together and we watched them for quite a while before having a hearty breakfast ourselves and setting off for the day's adventure.

This day we went to Cape Leeuwin, the most South Westerly point of Australia and one with the tallest lighthouse. We took a tour of the lighthouse so that we could go to the top of it and admire the views over the spot where the Indian Ocean meets the Southern Ocean. Following a stop in Augusta, a sleepy, small town for provisions we drove on to Pemberton via one more winery. This time it was Donnelly River Wines and we scored a bottle of red for $7!! Bargain. Pemberton is a lovely town set amid rolling hills and wooded forrest. Such was its charm that we almost immediately chose to spend two nights here. It's worth mentioning at this point that the climate, and as a result the landscape, in this corner of Western Australia are totally different from the rest of the state. There is far more rain here and it is consistently cooler with the breeze coming in from the Southern Ocean making the whole area more lush and green than the northern part of the state.

Another feature that is unique to this area are the impressive Karri trees. These huge, tall straight trees are a sight to behold and we drove part of the dedicated roadway known dramatically as the Karri Forrest Explorer. It was amazing to drive with such huge trees on either side. The region also has some rather famous individual trees, one of which is known as The Gloucester tree. When the forrest was being logged for timber, certain trees were used as lookout points to watch for forrest fires. The Gloucester tree is one such tree, named after the Duke of Gloucester who visited one day, though I doubt he climbed it. Iron pegs had been driven into the tree trunk to form a ladder up the length of the tree, 53 metres to the top where there is a sort of lookout hut on a platform. For some reason, I climbed the thing while, ever wise, Tom waited at the base. The view from the top was spectacular, you can see for miles around and it was fun seeing the birds and other tree tops at that level. Getting down was tough as you more or less have to look down to place your feet on the godforsaken pegs! I was holding on for dear life which goes some way to explaining why my legs still hurt as I write this, three days later.

Having paid entry to one national park to climb the tree, meant we had free entry to another national park. Apparently I am a glutton for punishment as despite the fact my legs felt as though they might explode, I agreed to climb a mountain!! Well, it was more of a rock really but who am I to split hairs when I can claim to have climbed a ruddy tall tree and a mountain in one day?! It was called Mount Chudla after all. After more nice views and a couple of rain showers, it was back to Pemberton to our nice spot in a  rather idyllic caravan park as we camped next to a stream, surrounded by nosey ducks.

The following day, we headed to Walpole where we did the Valley of The Giants treetop walk. Not quite as dramatic as it sounds, it is literally a suspended walkway amid the tops of beautiful red tingle trees which can grow to 75 metres. It turns out these trees have very shallow roots, in spite of their height so the treetop walk enables people to admire and enjoy the trees without damaging the roots. What's also lovely is that it is designed to sway in the breeze so to enhance the tree like experience I suppose. From there we set up camp at the charmingly named, Peaceful Bay.

Peaceful Bay is the place where we discovered that our griddle pan makes great toast. It is also the place we had to return to mid-afternoon as I had left my tablet charging at the campsite. Thankfully, we weren't too far away when the realisation hit and even though the couple who camped on the site after us had put the thing in their car, at least they handed it over and I was reunited with my doof (as I call it). Other highlights of the day included a visit to Denmark chocolate company, run by a lovely Swiss lady and Forrest Hill winery, the oldest vineyard in the Great Southern wine region.

On the road again

It may seem to you that our blog has fallen by the wayside somewhat and to some extent that's true. The distractions of work and city living in Perth meant that our blog fell down the list of priorities so we are woefully behind and for that we apologise to our loyal followers, all ten of you.

Hopefully, the phone/Skype calls have made up for our lack of prose and we will eventually go back to fill in the gaps for our own sake more than anything.

In summary, we spent 5 months in Perth and four of those we were blessed with a warm welcome and a wonderful Aussie hospitality with my relatives, Simon and Nicci Whitehouse, Simon being my Dad's first cousin and so (and we have this debate on every meeting) I think it makes him my second cousin. Anyway, they were extremely kind to put us up (and put up with us) for such a long time. Not only this but they gave us an amazing Aussie Christmas experience, a beautiful steak on the barbie and of course, a pavlova. They truly welcomed us to their family and it was great to get to know them, their twin sons, Ben and Andrew and their partners, Anna and Jacqui and of course, their grandchildren, Maeve and Freya not forgetting their wonderful dog, Moses, recipient of many belly rubs. We have also enjoyed the hospitality of Simon's sister, Jane while we were in Adelaide and we will update on that later on.

In January I got a job at a nearby family-run deli, Scutti where I worked around 25 hours a week selling and slicing the cured meats and preparing fresh salads and other items for the shop. It was a great experience for me and I met some wonderful people who were part of the team.
Tom got a job at a Japanese restaurant about 25mins away by car which served as an interesting introduction to how fickle the hospitality industry can be, particularly for those of us on working holiday visas.

Our last month was spent in Como, a nearby suburb to the deli. Tom had some shifts at a nearby restaurant but not many hours which meant that it was time for us to hit the road so, on the 26 April we set off in the rain. The night before, our friends gave us a wonderful send off in the pub which resulted in us setting off from Perth a little bit later than planned but we hit our target of spending our first night in Busselton, celebrating our arrival with cocktails on the beach followed by Chinese food in town.

Busselton is a charming coastal town which has the claim to fame of being home to the longest jetty in the Southern hemisphere at 1.8km long. It juts out into the waters of Geographe bay and having undergone a recent restoration, you are now required to pay the princely sum of $2.50 to walk along its length which we (and many others) did in a bracing wind. We gave the underwater observatory at the end a miss as while it is a cool idea, it seemed a bit pricey and we doubted being able to see all that much given the blustery conditions above. It is a rather nice jetty and it even has a charming train as one option to travel along its length. Timber was the main industry to put Busselton on the map and to warrant the building of such a huge jetty, the last extension happened in1969. Our jaunt along its length saw us pause at many an information panel or gaze at the various arty sculptures and comment on the lack of life rings and in some places, complete lack of railing. Don't worry, Mum, we didn't fall in.

From Busselton we headed to Yallingup via Bunker Bay to check out the beach and we spotted dolphins in the sea. By the time we arrived in Yallingup, a tiny settlement, the rain which seemed to have followed us since our departure from Perth, had well and truly arrived so we hunkered down, grateful for the warm and dry of the car. Yallingup is one of those small, creative communities where the local shop is also a post office and cafe so we called in there to send off a parcel and discovered next door a bakery dedicated to making kugelhopf which were as delicious as they were unexpected, we took two as sustenance for the day ahead, a chocolate orange one and an olive with walnut. Lovely stuff.
Despite the rain, our trip was off to a good start.

A day in the life

00:05, Friday 7th February

That's it, over and out and to bed now, sleepy. The glass of wine with the skype convo has kicked in and relegated the shift-work adrenaline to second place in my head. Thursday is but a memory, work is done for another day, thoughts are jumbling around, jumbled and dreaming now.

09:00

'... say hello, go say hello Mosey, go on.' Urgh, I'm not ready to wake up, and roll over to ignore the dog nosing at me from the side of the bed. He licks my leg and noses towards me, then trots away to something more interesting. I've been awake four or five times already today: half-remembered dreams leaving me disorientated, bolt upright in bed, trying to understand the half truths of my right brain.

11:00

Ok body, brain needs coffee now. One-two, ... . Try again. One, two, three, my legs swing round and plant themselves insecurely on the carpet. A push, a stumble, fumbles for clothes then glasses that make no difference to my sleep-encrusted eyes. I wash my face then sip carefully at the coffee before me. It's instant and not nearly as strong as usual - damn not having proper grounds today. Annie puts some hot Nutella-covered muffins down on the table and I'm grateful this isn't a morning she's over-tired too.

11:45

Morning's almost up as we head out. First stop is a coffee shop in Victoria Park East, Antz Inya Pantz. We've bought our last three bags of grinds from there, but last time I was pre-caffeinated and got whole beans instead. After rectifying my mistake and sucking down a cold one (of coffee: it's still just morning after all) it was gone midday. 

12:30 

At the supermarket (Coles, Victoria Park's 'Park Centre') we got limes, grapes, cous cous and an assortment of mundanities like cling film and marg. Our reward for our domestic chores: an apple and walnut scroll from Brumby's. Yum! 

13:20

Driving back along Mill Point Road, we swung off slightly early to get some smoked fish for a salad lunch from South Perth Seafoods. I've a soft spot for hot-smoked salmon from the Fin and Flounder on Broadway in Hackney, but, and I'm sure you can all appreciate my middle-class woe at this point, haven't seen it at all on my travels. True to form, although there was hot smoked whole trout (just not the same) they only had normal (cold) smoked salmon (alas! We bought some anyway). The fishmongers stock was, by a vast majority, frozen, though the range was impressive, and not at all unreasonable in price. I'd still rank Clayton's butchers as my preferred local shop, though.

14:00

Annie has made a cous cous salad with some of the salmon and a piece of halloumi on the side, which I demolish hungrily, washing it down with a freshly ground Bolivian 'Jacoba' coffee from my aeropress.

14:20

Simon prompts us to review the voucher book they have for activities and day trips around Perth. I like the look of sea kayaking out of Ningaloo, though admittedly that's not in Perth but quite a drive up the coast, and Annie noticed a couple of good deals on wine tours in the local wine region of Swan Valley, and even one by boat.

14:22

I'm due in to work at 17:00 today, but then my phone beeps twice:

"Hi Thomas sorry tsunami is not busy you may have off today. Thank you"

Woohoo, day off.

14:30

Annie's work hasn't been cancelled, though we didn't get our hopes up too much. Her shift starts at 4pm, but we've some washing up to do and the time quickly disappears into the temporal morass that is domesticity.

15:30

We're almost ready to leave: Annie for work, me for a first visit to the driving range of the local public golf course. It's really close, and it will be good to see if I can hit the ball on grass any better than on the scrub of the Nullabor.

15:50

I visit the Angelo Street branch of ANZ, my bank, to pay in my cash-in-hand wages and get receipts for the quantities to go with the photos of my wage packets. If the tax man here is anything like the one at home, I doubt they'd be happy with me simply announcing the cash figure (without documentation) on my end of year tax return.

16:25

Why is there so much traffic?! It's taken me 30 minutes to go 3 kilometres. The Aussies clock off early, that must be it. I've just arrived at the golf course and see another text from work:

"Hi Tsunami staff, we organised the schedule this coming valentines day on Feb. 14 Friday, we would like to remind you all that everyone will be free to work with us on that day. Many thanks."

As with many things said at work, this needs some clarification, and it turns they should really have just sent something simple like: 'we need all of you to work on valentines day.' That would be much easier.

17:15

Balls hit, divets dug, now that was quite fun. My hand is starting to suffer from friction burns, so time to leave the land of pristine green grass and head back to the parched outside. There was some rather silly golf dress on display, but the people were friendly and it was a lot more welcoming than on our appearance at the Kalgoorlie golf club at the end of the Nullabor Links. Wow that did make us feel a bit uncomfortable!

18:10

After letting a very friendly Mosey back into the house, I wonder what to make for tea, or if we should go out.

18:20

I look at the events for the Perth Festival, which starts today and lasts a few weeks. It's not very centralised, but I note there's an outdoor cinema showing of the current Robert Redford film about a shipwrecked yachtsman that I know Annie is keen on. It's unallocated, unreservable seating so we might as well buy tickets on the door. There's even a pizza place as part of the venue, somewhere over the river on the University of Western Australia campus. 'Sorted, let's go there', I think.

18:35

OMFG so many ants. And not just the super small worker ants, there are the bulbous angry protecting ants too, hundreds of them going right into... the... food... cupboard. Urgh, nasty, time for ant genocide.

The spray does the trick, and soon nothing is moving. I spray some more, then follow the route back to the window frame with ant-trail masking spray. I have to leave it for a little while, there's just too many of the buggers to deal with right now.

18:50

Ok, I'm a bit calmer now, and wipe them all away, clean the cupboard, respray, done.

19:00

I grab the esky from our room and gather picnic supplies for the movie: diet coke, popcorn, a couple of beers, a bunch of grapes. It all gets packed in with ice blocks, and I scramble to get a blanket, some jumpers (it can be almost chilly at night sometimes) and find where exactly the venue is and where to park.

19:23

Quick, time to leave. Annie should be outside work in 5 mins, which will just give us time to get to the venue - she can call the pizza order in en-route.

19:30

Annie waits with one of her Italian colleagues, Gracie, who cut her finger cleaning the deli slicer. It's a deep cut, so plans change and we're heading back to the house to get the first aid kit. The 'supervisor' had left her with tissue paper which does nothing to staunch the flow of blood.

19:45

The cut is too deep and wide for butterfly stitches, so Annie wraps it with dressing pads as best she can and we cover it all with primapore tape. Nicci and Simon arrive back and immediately start to look for out-of-hours medical centres.

19:55

Nicci finds an open doctors in Belmont who will see Gracie when we arrive. To the car! I drive us along the 4-lane highway (with a very slow speed limit of 60kph / 38mph), Annie directs us to the clinic.

20:10

I plonk myself in the waiting room and pick up a Time magazine from October 2013. Annie helps Gracie complete the medical forms.

20:40

I read an article by Bill Clinton about why he's positive about the future of the world. Gracie gets called through to the doctor

21:10

I read an article about coffee shop variations across the world. The girls are nowhere to be seen. I look for places we can get something to eat, but we're running out of time for Solo Pizza (10pm close), which has the best reputation around.

21:30

As if there's causation, almost the moment I drop the fully-read Time on to the pile, they emerge from the inner sanctum. Gracie has a bandaged finger, three stitches on a local anaesthetic and a tetanus jab. We have to wait ten minutes, in case the wound re-opens? Gracie has a doctors note and can't work tomorrow, so Annie and Gracie talk through what Gracie has to say to the boss on the phone.

21:40

Equipped with the word 'stitches' and the confidence to tell the boss she can't start at 8am tomorrow, Gracie makes the call. Annie gets roped in to going in to work early, and after fighting claims of 'another holiday!', Gracie is all set. Now for some food, but not until we've raided the picnic stash for an M&Ms sugar boost.

21:48

At the lights, I notice another text from work: 

"Hi Thomas tsunami is not busy again you may have off tomorrow Saturday again. Thanks"

Bonus! Wait - I need hours to get paid. Hmm.

21:55

You can do u-turns at traffic lights here, and crossing three lanes from a side-road isn't frowned upon as it would be at home. I'm glad therefore that the traffic is light as we somehow navigate to the wide array of fast food outlets which, along with motels, provide an unbroken neon edge to this wide highway. Dominos had no seating, so we decide on McDonalds, despite it being on the other side of the road. I don't want to re-park, so we jog across and are soon in the comforting warm glow of the 24 hour 'restaurant'.

22:05

We share stories. Gracie talks of a trip to Paris with a boyfriend, also Italian, on which, due to a dislike of French food, they ate at McDonalds every day for a week. Apparently, croissants just aren't as good in Paris as in Sicily, and once you've had burgers a few nights in a row you start to order the salad meals as your first choice!

22:25

We drive Gracie back to her flat by the zoo, and Annie swaps numbers with her. She has to have the stitches out on Wednesday, so we can give her a lift as long as I'm not at work (with the car).

22:50

Annie and I arrive home after what has been quite a long day. I eat grapes and continue to write this, Annie relaxes with a dose of Buzzfeed. We discuss what to do tomorrow after Annie's shift, but we don't know when she'll finish. Maybe the film will still be on? Otherwise there must be some music or dancing. We decide we'll decide tomorrow: my favourite type of decision.

23:40

To bed. What an unexpected turn of events today. I thought it would be a portrait of both our work days, but it does show the changeability of life on zero-hours contracts (ha, I scoff - there's nothing official or contracted about my job!)

Stepping back in time: Yanakie to Tidal River: A seagull stole oursandwich

Let's rewind from the last post. Before Perth, back across the Nullabor, long before the Eyre Peninsula and even the other side of Melbourne, we were spending the night in the village of Yanakie.

It was a nervy night for Annie, who was rather put out by the cockroach and large spider (a huntsman? We're not sure) that fled the barbecue plate while cooking dinner. The night of Saturday 26th October 2013 was windy, which was not helped by Yanakie's position on a low isthmus protruding into the notoriously rough Bass Straight and the lack of effective wind breaks. In keeping with the theme of the last week, it was raining, with yet more rain forecast for the approaching week. 

We woke to broken skies of rays of sunshine blasting through cumuli, a brisk southwesterly and great promise. Just South of Yanakie is the control gate for the Wilson's Promontory National Park, then we were driving through pristine bush on a ribbon of tarmac unsurpassed in quality, and all the more out of place for it. Annie was on animal spotting duty, but our late start probably didn't help the poor showing. The drive was excellent, a really windy road that would be great to time trial, though crashing in a UNESCO World Heritage Site and Oz National Park probably wouldn't be appreciated. Just in case I don't mention it when describing something specific in Wilson's Prom, the views are amazing. All of them. From close-ups of dense, seemingly untouched bush to magnificent saddle-point vistas, it's just beautiful. 

Arriving in the only permanent settlement in park, Tidal River, we gawped at the enormity of the camping area, deciding to pitch near to the amenities to put some food together. We fought the wind all the while, watching that the filling didn't fly out of the sandwiches, then as Annie turned to me for the mayo, the bugger swooped. A cacophony ensued as the flock of seagulls fought over the top half of our sandwich, not even dispersing as Annie angrily chased after them with a tea towel. We soon realised that the surplus of campsites needed to be investigated, and relocated away from the amenities where the seagulls (and rainbow lorikeets) had picked up their taste for chips and, apparently, ham sandwiches. 

Wilson's Promentory is a tropical desert island, or at least it might be. It was quite clear to us that while there were several activities available to us (fishing, swimming, surfing), all we wanted to do was explore. Our first day saw us meander through the campsite, over the watercourse and then brought us to a complete stop when I brought Annie's attention to the badger-sized animal immediately to our right. Talk about tame - this wombat was 5 feet away and couldn't care less about us as it scruffled for tasty greens on the side of the path. As Annie took photos (and I took photos for Annie of her with the wombat in the near background), a few more people came by, but the wombat didn't care, and kept ignoring that it was meant to be both shy and semi-nocturnal. What a badass. Seeing the wombat sustained us for most of the rest of the day,  though that isn't to say that Squeaky Beach was actually quiet, or that the views weren't inspiring. Our path took us over the headland to the next bay, with great viewpoints, down to one of the finest beaches I've seen, to lunch on remarkable rocks (not The Remarkable Rocks, they're on Kangaroo Island in SA), then back over the hill to the campsite. Squeaky Beach gets it's name from the sound of ultra-fine quartz sand rubbing together when walked on - a funny sensation, though actually replicated in several places along the coast in Oz. Coming back over the hill, the importance of fire to the Australian landscape became apparent. We saw burnt stumps, but also half-burnt trees that were quite alive, burnt tree grasses redoubled in growth and many burnt hollows that were obviously housing some form of wildlife or other. From a lovely granite outcrop, the landscape could easily be divided along recent fire lines - the fewer burnt limbs above the thicker the canopy, the longer ago the most recent burn.


Old fire lines are really obvious from above

 A nice feature on the walk (sadly amiss in many other places in Oz) was the presence of informative signs that related the lives of the traditional owners of the land and how they used some of the plants, along with details on the plants themselves. I liked learning that the tree grass flower sap hardens as a resin used for attaching spear heads, amongst other uses. 



Annie getting up close to the first wombat

He was quite happy with close-ups

 

The revelation of the evening of 27th October was that Wilson's Prom doesn't just have the one fearless wombat, rather several burrows worth of them, including a burrow right in the middle of the campsite. Stop! I know what you're going to say, and don't worry - Annie took enough photos of them to last a trip to the other side of the world, almost. After a sunset stroll on the beach, we also saw several bunnies (cue mixed feelings) then - get this - a deer. I can understand bunnies managing to thrive, even in a National Park, but deer? Deer are surely the easier feral creature to hunt/capture/remove, and I've not seen any others at all across Australia.

{one of the campsite locals}

We extended our stay in Wilson's Prom to two nights, allowing us time to scale Mount Oberon, with silly chanting and exercises on the way up the (rather dull) forest track, though unfortunately the good weather from day 1 decided not to stay with us and we reached the summit in cloud. We kept getting smug looks from the predominantly German walkers descending as we climbed. They had obviously made more of the "a few showers" weather forecast than we had, though in our defence that seems to be the only description Victorians know for anything from vaguely threatening cloud cover to all-out torrential downpours lasting several hours. Never mind, we're British, and a little rain was hardly going to keep us from our sandwiches.

In the clouds, Mt Oberon.

 

Oh, we saw emus when we were driving out. Nice.

Overcast, yes. Stunning, also yes.

We've been in Perth a while now

Everything written here for outsiders includes something along the lines of 'Perth is the most isolated capital city in the world', 'WA is beyond huge' or 'About as close to Southeast Asia as Australia's East'. The problem is that these statements are all too pithy, and while yes, it does take a bloody long time to walk/ride/drive/fly to anywhere over East, once you start living here it's just like being in any other neighbourhood. Well, not quite any neighbourhood:

- it's hot- always sunny, with burning sun and effectively no rain since we arrived in early December (proof: Dec, Jan)
- people are generally friendly
- they don't sound that Australian here
- there's actually a decent public transport system!

We'd have a view like this if we stood on the roof... but normally we just walk 250m to the park for it

We're in South Perth, which is just over the estuarial Swan River from the CBD. The black swans on the river (hence its name) and foreshore had their cygnets recently, which with their grey fluff looked just the same as the standard (white) swan cygnets. The dusty moorhens, coots and ducks add to the similarities with home, though the paperbark eucalypts and palms they use for shade are quite distinctly not British. It's a green city away from the river too, though for a city facing collosal environmental challenges around water needs, low rainfall and flood planes / rising sea levels, they do seem to use the sprinklers a lot. Perth appears a microcosm of Australia as a whole, trying to accommodate every citizen's 1/4 acre dream plot scrubland bungalow, while realising that the 90km continuous suburban sprawl along the coast is very expensive, inefficient and not sustainable. It's pity there's so much mining wealth propping up the expansion.


Have you heard of quokkas? The internet would have you believe that they are the happiest animals in the world, but though they seemed interested and not at all shy, I didn't see them smile when we went cycling on Rottnest Island. A trip to Rotto, as the locals know it (and which my spellcheck wants to amend to rotfl - how lols) is a fave for many Perthites, who appreciate the traffic-free cycling and walking, and the pristine beaches - unpopulated once a few kilometres from the accomodation areas. There's a boat trip to get there; we departed from the CBD jetty and got a waterborne city guide in the bargain.

Much earlier in our trip, we watched the AFL Grand Final (Aussie rules football - confusing and played on a cricket oval with four goalposts at each end) in Melbourne. The losing side was the Fremantle Dockers, who along with the West Coast Eagles comprise WA's contribution to the premier league of this unusual antipodean sport. The city of Fremantle is historic, with several original buildings from the first few years of the settlement, but also fun and friendly. Oddly enough, the presence of a university doesn't really help the feel of the city - too many stale office-like buildings that could be flats and shops, but thankfully the market and cafés compensate really well. Freo (most things are abbreviated here) is just a light railway ride from the CBD, and also quite close to the place I've just got a job at, a bit up the coast in Mosman Park.


Finding jobs here is hard, unless:
- you're fully qualified in whatever over-specific niche is required
- you've 3 years experience doing the job for minimum pay
- you're AMAZINGLY OUTGOING and LOVE serving customers in an EXCELLENT happy mood all the time


Somehow, we've both managed it. I'm the bartender and general wait staff for an upmarket Japanese restaurant. I'm not sure how I fangled this job, though admittedly I'm on just over half of nothing per hour and still in a two week trial period. Annie is doing much better, with a job at a local Italian deli called Scutti, decent hours and a commute that doesn't involve a 25 minute drive each way. Needless to say, the eponymous owners haven't yet been apprised of the colloquial English meaning of 'scutty'.

Going back to where this entry started, we're in South Perth. We're staying with Annie's first cousin once removed (Simon), his wife (Nicci) and dog (Mosey) in their lovely old house. We've been made to feel very welcome, indeed part of the family, and have even gone surfing with one of their friends. Their twin sons Ben and Andrew are great, and I'm sure the esteemed Winthrop Professor (Andrew) would (secretly) appreciate a shameless plug here for his book, 'Will Mozart Make My Baby Smart?' (Hint: ... umm, actually I haven't read it yet, oops).

One of the strange things in Perth is that despite its size, everyone seems connected here: Simon and Nicci know random baristas in town, and my colleague also works at Annie's workplace. Strange though, I thought she didn't know this suburb when I said I was living in South Perth - guess she was just taking the piss out of my accent! There's a nice small-town feel in Perth that comes with the urban sprawl and low-ish population density, and the coffee shop culture that Britain has tried to adopt over the last decade or so really doesn't come close to what Perth has. There are some chains, sure, but outside the malls it's mostly little independent places with top-notch modern Italian coffee machines and speciality blends from a variety of regional and local roasteries - favourite so far is Mano A Mano at the Gordon Street Garage in West Perth. Simon and Nicci are regulars at a certain place on Angelo Street near Annie's work, and are on first name terms with not only the serving staff but also several other customers and their dogs. There are free communal BBQ stations in the foreshore park. A local school backing onto Angelo Street also opens the gym and pool when school isn't on. There are lots of things that contribute to the coffee culture, and even if Britain misses the point, it's a pretty good thing to aim for.

Planning is hard work, and remembering to keep well hydrated is key

 We started planning the next big section of our trip yesterday. Roughly, we're just going to follow the coast road, Highway 1, with a few big detours to Darwin, Uluru and Cairns and probably lots of smaller detours like we've written about previously on our coastal journey from Adelaide to Melbourne. All-in, we've probably another 15,000 kms before we get back to Melbourne, and are planning to leave Perth around the end of March, giving us around 6 months - plenty of time! I'm particularly looking forward to driving through the Pilbara (have a look at the photos on this blog!), seeing crocs (from a distance!) in the Top End, visiting the Riversleigh fossils in Queensland (and thus completing the World Heritage listing it shares with the caves in Naracoorte, SA), and especially trying to get to the tropical paradise of the Whitsunday Islands . There's lots more to see and do on the way of course, and Annie is excited about all the Big Things the Queenslanders have made, though less excited when we read about the man-made termite mound in Mataranka, NT.