Have camera will travel! To give George time to accustom himself to the functioning of his new ‘partner’ we stayed in Albany. Just as well as the first day it malfunctioned due to a faulty memory card! The next day just to be certain the camera was a good one we decided to visit Whale World to make up for the lack of whales we’d planned to follow across the southern end of Australia.
Whale World turned out to be Albany’s historic Whaling Station which promptly brought to mind our visit to the ruins of Durban’s whaling station with our three young children which was abruptly curtailed when Keith, all of seven years, was inexplicably arrested by a guard! This was a very different experience altogether with the added richness of tying in the history we’d gathered during our Christmas stay at Cheyne Beach. Given the worldwide demand for and uses of whale oil at the time, the significance of the whaling industry to Albany not to mention the short sightedness of the whalers themselves during these years becomes perfectly understandable. Equally impressive was the absence of any wastage. We found ourselves totally caught up as this history was brought to life in its beautiful setting in Frenchman’s Bay along with excellent displays and the whale chaser Cheynes IV- all making it well worth the visit.
Kalgan River had been mentioned to us by fellow travellers as a special atmosphere caravan park and we were happy to tie up there for a night amongst the ‘roos and birds. Down at the laundry we found a narcissistic galah at the window that made no effort to fly away as we approached. We had a little natter with this ‘foolish’ bird only for it to respond in English as we moved on. This was our introduction to “Member”, a real charmer!
Next day Lea went off to shower before we hit the road. The place to herself, she began washing her hair and abluting, with a steadily growing sense of apprehension of a presence. How imagination pays tricks and no matter how you try not to keep checking… You do and there is no one! In the silence of towelling off with eyes still continuing to flit around uneasily, almost simultaneously the ablution block door opened as a voice above Lea said “Hello there”! The momentary heart palpitation gave way to an effusive gasp at seeing wretched “Member” peering down between two slats of an air vent in the ceiling. A common occurrence obviously, as the lady who’d come in laughingly asked if ‘The Peeping Tom’ was up to no good again.
Have you been up to no good Member
With big mileages to cover we decided to aid our budget with plenty of bush camping beginning with a favourite spot at Cape Riche. We called in at Bremer Bay before bravely deciding we’d take the dirt road through the Fitzgerald River National Park only to find that we’d have to spend a night at Quaalup Homestead as there was no through road for caravans. It didn’t prove to be a wasted journey as alongside the road we spotted wonderful displays of most unusual plants with glowing orangey yellow crowns that had us wondering it was with its cabbage stick like form. It was later identified as Royal Hakea, endemic to the area. Since the gravel roads seemed to be in remarkably good condition we decided to brave another down to Starvation Harbour- Lea recalling this lovely place from a mere lunch stop ten years earlier. Surprisingly George felt we had never been there but as the scene unfolded just as she’d described he had to accept an abnormal slip in memory!
Rock sculpture
With severe weather warnings being put out over the radio we didn’t stop in Esperance pushing inland for the start of the Nullarbor crossing. Holed up for the night at Bromus Dam outside Norseman as the sky ominously darkened with a purple hue and Lea eyed the gum trees nervously as the wind threatened to dislodge branches. Laugh he may! We must have been off centre to this storm as the night passed relatively peacefully and from then on we knew we’d reached Australian summer weather.
With a familiar feel we crossed the Nullarbor in three days. Approaching the Western Australian State border George began puzzling over the appearance of rampart like white structures to the tail end of the Mildura Range ahead of us. Was the mirage playing tricks with our eyes? They turned out to be sand dunes that we’d never noticed travelling from the East. We had little idea of the week day on arrival in Ceduna and finding it was a Saturday evening only allowed for the bliss of Shelley beach’s lovely ablution facility as our usual internet café had closed for the weekend. We pushed onwards next morning reaching Port Augusta on the Monday to find that despite being a bigger town we were given the run-around when it came to internet! Public access is one thing, laptop connection quite another! After days without fresh fruit and vegetables due to quarantine restrictions crossing the State line we were glad to restock before setting off.
New turf to tramp! Excitement was heady as we moved north into the South Australian Outback to explore the Flinders Ranges. Hardly out of Port Augusta, we travelled through the type of landscapes that artists enjoy capturing on canvas - bulky river gums giving sculptured effects alongside dry creeks as we wound our way through gently undulating hills. Stopping for lunch in the Pichi Richi Pass – named after the historic railway that runs between Port Augusta and Quorn. North of Quorn we took a scenic loop road and found ourselves in Warren Gorge with its rugged red and ochre coloured outcrops, pine trees covering the foot slopes and an extensive campground with a wide selection of sites all going begging. Spotted the first of many signs “warning of falling limbs” even though pines dominate here!
We promptly made ourselves at home amongst chortling kookaburras and inquisitive western grey kangaroos resting in the shade of nearby pine clumps. Heavenly!
Early next morning as we prepared to make tracks, we spotted our first yellow footed rock wallabies – rare and beautifully marked creatures with banded tails and yellow legs. Continuing on the loop road we passed through Simmonston, a town that never was due to misplaced optimism in the 1870’s when it was considered “a splendidly situated town, the healthiest in the colony”. The ruins of a partially built hotel stands monument to this inhospitable and drought affected land, a land that does not readily lend itself to any form of human intervention. We could see a strong resemblance to the Karroo. An emu took fright and ran a good distance alongside a fence parallel to us, puffs of dust spurting up from its feet in a rhythmic stride of 30 km per hour that fascinated us. Just as we began to wonder why it didn’t peel off, it shot straight through the barbed wire fence unscathed and without missing a beat leaving us quite dumbstruck.
We stopped in Hawker to find out about road conditions and obtain a better map of the Flinders and in we went to the central ranges. After registering at Wilpena Pound we decided we’d prefer a bush camp away from this main touristy area and left for Bunyeroo Gorge. Bravely, we pulled off the main corrugated dirt road in the direction of Bunyeroo Valley with its warning of a narrow winding road ahead. We crept along at snail’s pace without meeting a soul until we reached the Look Out Point! There, we became aware of just how steep some of the descents ahead were. Had we been coming from the opposite direction we could have had a problem. We spent the night in the floor of the Gorge – our joint Christmas present to each other, an oscillating fan, finally being used and proving a valued item under these close conditions. Leaving the gorge at an hour far earlier than we are accustomed to in an effort to see more before the heat of the day got to us we were staggered to see a dozen or so goats come rushing towards the only remnants of water we’d seen in the gorge. Fat, healthy looking ferals so intent on water, they hadn’t notice us. As George moved forward to catch them on camera – they fled the way they’d come and simply disappeared, like a figment of our imagination. This became a day filled with wild life – emu families and kangaroos around every corner and rabbits galore. John Williamson’s song about “dodging rabbits and roos” was apt but what about all the road slugs? Right across our South West journey, we have wasted adrenalin dodging all these very slow moving Bobtails or Shingle-backs, possibly the most abundant lizard to be seen sluggishly crossing roads.
We left “Getaway” at a central campsite so that we could explore with ease. In the course of the morning we had covered the length and breadth of central Flinders, a Park that lends itself more to hiking than driving through. Other than the “pug and pine” ( pole & dagga / wattle& daub) hut used as a base by the renowned Australian artist Sir Hans Heysen in a very attractive valley along with its history of the first sheep farmer who lived in a stone house on the ridge, Lea wasn’t that taken by the area . Concerned that we’d see more of the same in the North Flinders some 230km away, primarily on dirt and, as the much spoken about, dramatic Siller’s Look Out could only be accessed as part of a guided tour we decided to return to Getaway and enjoy the surrounds of Brachina East campgrounds which we had to ourselves.
The following day we headed out of the Park back to the Southern Flinders following the Brachina Gorge. Talk about leaving the best until last, not to mention raising the stakes of Central Flinders enormously! Yellow footed rock wallabies and a billy, nanny & kid goat gave us wonderful demonstrations of how they nimbly move up the sheer rock faces. The morning light emphasising the rich colours of saw-toothed ridges and jagged cliff faces captured George’s eye while Lea was struck by the first rays of sunlight enhancing the beauty of nature’s landscaping with the double rows of ancient river gums down either sides of the dry and rocky river bed, some barely clinging to the banks. While young sapling took a chance at life scattered down the centre as Skiv and Getaway criss-crossed their way down the floor of the river bed. Coming out of this lovely place into the harsh dry plains stretching for ever, with only dry creek dips to alter the straight flat run of the road until we reached Hawker had its impact. We took the RM Williams Way down to Orroroo through overgrazed and degraded land. This bushman’s name led to a labelled brand of leather ware and clothing worn everywhere especially by cowboys at rodeos! How we curse that we didn’t buy his book when we spotted it in a second-hand bookshop window in Norseman! Books on Australiana come into their own when we travel these byways. No place to bush camp by the very nature of the land use. Thus, it was all the more poignant to come to a roadside memorial to an early Australian Surveyor – Goyder, marking the point where he had drawn the line demarcating the northern limit of sustainable agriculture in South Australia. Mores the pity greater notice wasn’t given to this! Climbing up to Hancocks Look Out in the South Finders Range the newly graded track took us through a well managed and scenically attractive farm to burst out on top of the world! We were glad to be back here for the second time. This must rank as one of the best roadside stops in South Australia.
At the end of a hot day a bush refresher is something we both look forward to. Driver George now turns butler. With a brief mutter over the need for a “privacy tent” that snaps open with the greatest of ease. He sets out bath mat, towel, soap, body oil, even slip-slops to await milady, followed by a bucket of solar heated water. Then butler completes his ablutions.
Packing up this particular evening, the sounds of the butler cursing prompted Lea to take a look outside. There she found George sprawled on the ground like a Japanese Sumo wrestler, grunting with exertion and unbridled ferocity, trying to recoil the semi folded privacy tent into a shape suitable for putting back into its bag. Coming to his assistance, the rubber tramps began time and again, and again, to twist the tent frame into shape but, it eventually became clear that the cursed thing had no intention of conforming. The only alternative was to stow the uncooperative tent (in its flat state) under the mattress in Skiv to maintain our sanity! Mere fluke he’d managed before?
Radio forecasted 37°C for the next day and we were up with the birds to catch the coolest part of the day to explore Alligator Gorge in Mt. Remarkable National Park.
From our previous attempt travelling on the coastal side of South Flinders we knew it was ‘unsuitable for towing vehicles’ we’d now planned to leave Getaway in a Wilmington caravan park. So much for planning! Booking in, George explained our intentions to immediately head off into Mt. Remarkable only to be told it was closed during week days due to road work. We decided to wait out Friday in their park do the Gorge next day. So glad we did, as that night in the light of an incoming car, we spotted a possum. We shot out of Getaway to get a closer look and the friendly creature approached us as if it expected food. Lea dashed to cut up an apple and on returning found it up a tree. Tsk…Tsk-ing - brought it down and we were able to hand feed this one and others that arrived a bit later. What a pleasure!
Feeding the possums
Plans fell into place next day with a worthwhile walking trail into Alligator Gorge before we took to the long winding road through nothing but wheat fields and sheep grazing on the stubble. Historic community settlements broke the monotony and Stone Hut Bakery lured us in for a ‘sticky beak’! Usually able to resist all temptations we waked out with “feral food”…George had a delicious kangaroo pie. Lea flatly refuses to eat “skippy” and chose a quandong pie - an indigenous bush fruit, wild peach yet its tangy taste colour and texture seemed more similar to plum and rhubarb. But be warned it’s a costly fruit as apparently it is more pip that flesh!
Night stop prospects were very thin and eventually we detoured into the Clare Valley vineyards bringing a welcome change of land use, greenery and trees and stayed at Auburn’s Recreation Grounds for the next two days. Cricket and bowls being played in the heat and we took shelter under a pretty row of trees with the birds.
Besides the next border crossing ahead of us we also had a Fruit Fly Exclusion Zone to contend with! No fruit and vegetables allowed… Lea’s McKenzie blood, prompted her to cook up all the potatoes for a salad and our apples were gobbled up speedily en route for the line! The name Stockport had jumped out at us as we pored over our route to the border of Victoria. Knowing Glen lived there we decided to pop in for a quick yarn and give him the last of our onions! In Darwin last year we were returning to our caravan site at the usual low speed requested by Parks. As we passed a man walking Lea was horrified to see him take a tumble. Thinking he had miss-stepped the road edge, she told George to stop and leapt out to help. Poor chap was scrabbling to get up and fast apologising “I’m not drunk – I suffer from multiple sclerosis”. This is how we met brave ‘Falling down Glen’ & Kathleen from South Australia, who turned out to be in a caravan opposite us. It was good to find that despite ongoing falls, Glen continues to keep well, leading a very active life. Disappointingly, Kath was off nursing her old Mum.
Approaching the border to Victoria, temperatures were touching the 40’s and the monotony of drought-stricken lands were getting to us that we couldn’t wait to take refuge beside the mighty Murray River at Renmark – a wonderful grey, green waterway. Hot winds hurtled amongst the River Gums and much as we needed respite from the searing heat fear of ‘falling limbs’ had us park out of harms reach. Weather forecast even higher temperatures next day and we laid low in our bush retreat quietly sweltering and listening to the local radio voicing the peoples concerns over the desiccated state of the citrus industry. Everyone wants more water from the already over burdened Murray! In the midst of election fervour, some farmers brought their plight to the attention of Federal Government by dumping dead orange trees on the steps of Parliament House! Unable to face more of this desperate land we decided not to cross into Victoria at this point preferring to turn coast-wards following the South Australian State line. That night a storm broke resulting in a dramatic drop in temperature and enough rain to require 4 wheel drive to slither our way out.
We ‘d never realised just how much wheat is grown in Australia until we made this journey across three States nor did we appreciate the stark contrast in agricultural productivity. South-West Victoria seemed a Garden of Eden. From the sweeping farmlands into the rugged splendour of The Grampians – we spent three days happily exploring from end to end. The highlight was our climb up Mt. Stapylton with its long rocky inclines reminiscent of Domboshawa. The very striking Taipan Wall face catching the sunlight, bird rock and the scramble up to the top with a heart fit to burst from the effort, making it all the more memorable. We’d never heard of the rare gang-gang birds we’d picked up on in a brochure but one morning just as we were leaving a campsite we heard a new sound – like a cork being twisted out of a bottle… Up in the gums were a flock of grey parrots with red heads and this was our introduction to the gang-gang cockatoo.
An embarassed George rides the Bird!
Considering we were travelling on a sealed road we could hardly credit the unexpected appearance of a sign “Unsuitable for caravans”. We turned back to seek an explanation from a caravan park and learnt it could safely be ignored. We have encountered far worse situations in our travels and felt irritated enough to contemplate writing the Horsham Shire about removing the sign! Fire had ravaged 60% of this National Park in January 2006 and it was interesting to see the regeneration 18 months later. As we descended the Wonderland Range the screeching of the cicadas was so deafening that Lea was convinced the sound had upset her sense of balance. At the Park HQ in Halls Gap she found herself tottering unsteadily round the cultural centre and couldn’t wait to find a camp and sit still.
At Wannon Falls we stopped for lunch and found such a pleasant camping ground, we stayed for the night. Never mind the big red gum which hadn’t just shed a limb, it had totally collapsed demolishing a picnic table very recently. We shared afternoon tea with a Danish lady who rolled up in her yellow V-dub. She appeared relieved to hear we were staying the night - being a woman on her own she relies heavily on her instincts in these lonely places! It was wonderful to chat away for a good couple of hours. Doesn’t happen too often!
INTERNET has a different meaning in this neck of Victoria and George spent fruitless hours on many a wild goose chase. Laptop access proved non existent. Eventually a village Post Mistress allowed George to connect up to the Post Office land-line and was stunned to find him successfully conducting his business lying on the floor under the office table! Pulled into a forest for our fifth night of bush camping – each brings a touch of ownership and pleasure in different ways but next day, needing to replenish our water supply and give Skiv an oil change we headed into Portland, on a beautiful bit of coastline. Came time to pay and to our dismay found George had lost his credit card somewhere in the Grampians – an awful inconvenience when you live on the road.
We have covered 4,700km this month, at times it has felt like “a white line fever of flight”! Our expectations of a lower fuel price on this side of the continent fell by the wayside. Instead, prices have gone through the roof. Despite that, we have managed to stay on budget. With two days left to month end we pulled out of Portland and soon after, popped into Mt. Clay State Forest wondering whether it would be a suitable spot to prepare our next blog. Just as we contemplated moving on because of the misty conditions – movement at the base of a tree alongside caught Lea’s eye. Ohmagod! A koala… Engine turned off, we stayed right there as it climbed up another tree just outside Getaway’s door. After the excitement of a wild koala in our midst had simmered down we spotted a familiar yellow V-Dub off in a clearing (Danish Lena was away on her bike!). A converted truck was also quietly parked off in another clearing. In between keeping an eye on our koala, we settled to our computer for the rest of the day. That evening we caught up with Lena and later, Terry came over and introduced himself and over a late night cuppa we leant much from this nomadic pensioner. All this socialising went to our heads that we stayed another day with our like minded grey nomads…
Within the next few days, come December, Melbourne and the ferry to Tasmania awaits us.
