Tramping tales for April 11 - 30 2011

Lake Eyre is in central South Australia and for the most part, it is simply an enormous dry expanse of cracked clay at the lowest point of 15 metres below sea level, in the country. Yet it is Australia’s largest inland lake when it fills, with the potential of covering a staggering surface area of 9500 k m ². Mostly it is subjected to long periods of desiccation. Everybody began talking about Lake Eyre after the 2009 floods covered a huge 800 km². Des and Liz Lord suggested we visit it together during August 2010 only we had other engagements in the Top End. Hearing the Lord’s and Judy Lennie speak of their visits to Lake Eyre, we too were most keen to see Lake Eyre at its peak. Two consecutive seasons of exceptionally high run off from Australia’s largest catchment influenced by the El Nina effects of this past summer’s rainfall along the Eastern States could well be the most historically opportune time for us to visit... Hence we were heading eastwards.

Adding another soupçon of interest to our visiting Lake Eyre was speed ace Donald Campbell! His horrific Bluebird K7 crash on Coniston Water in the Lake District of England reverberated around the world back in January 1967 leaving an ingrained memory of a man’s passion to break water and land speed records on both of us – before we even knew each other. As we understood, Donald Campbell had set the World land speed record on the dry bed of Lake Eyre in 1964.

For his birthday, Lea had given George the latest copy of Camps Australia Wide 6 – as it boasted the addition of over 450 new campsites and she felt it was time we had an updated copy despite our well used Camps Australia Wide 3 having served us well as ‘the ultimate guide for the budget and freedom conscious traveller’. Prior to departure, George engrossed himself in plotting our road journey across Western Australia going as directly east as possible. On the penultimate day to our departure, Lea chanced to page through a dated travel magazine at the library. Her eyes lit upon an article on the township of Dumbleyung. Where it was, she had no idea BUT jumping out of the text was Donald Campbell. Keen to set both land and water speed records in the same calendar year, he actually accomplished this feat on Lake Dumbleyung by the skin of his pants in the closing hours of the year 1964. This altered our route a few degrees and pertinently became part of our Lake District Tour!

Leaving beloved family for, at the very least, a long year before seeing them again is our narrative in life. Fortunately this is eased slightly by a photograph and the distractions of the road ahead...

Farewells over we had barely gone round the block than we stopped to adjust the wide angle mirrors. Lea decided to check the rear lights- left indicator not working. Easy globe change required! Almost an hour later after blowing a fuse on the truck and all lights out, a call went off to Paul. HELP! He was only too happy to oblige and hurtled down in his beloved shiny steed- delighted to reverse his track record for break downs and headline capturing...Ford Capri rescue vehicle for Toyotas floating through his head! Quickly solved, we set off for real. The wild easterly winds kicking up in the Perth region did not fuss us unduly as we made our way through the parched Wheat Belt after the hottest March on record and the longest period without water. Being a winter crop we were surprised to find miles and miles of undulating wheat fields still covered in the stubble of previous harvests - just as we had seen in the northern reaches of the Wheat Belt driving towards Perth in mid December. Being well into autumn we had expected to see land being prepared for the new season. Recalling a wheat farmer’s recent words “The worst season ever, thanks to the dry winter experienced last year” we wondered whether farmers wisely held off ploughing up their land and planting until the last minute especially as the visual sightings of minor dust clouds gave some credence to the American Wheat Belt being called the ‘Dust Bowl’. It was most obvious a wetter winter was desperately required. Farm dams were bone dry and we saw less signs of salinization as we made our way to Lake Dumbleyung.

Understandably, little places create big attractions to entice you to stop.

We obliged, taking a break in Wagin to walk around the Big Ram.

Turning onto the Lake road from the highway we quizzically read a sign “Beware Double gee” wondering what it referred to when the first sighting of Lake Dumbleyung’s glistening floor diverted our attention.

WHEN it’s full, this is the largest body of inland water in Western Australia. That has only happened four times in the past one hundred years. One time was December 1964, when it overflowed after a particularly wet winter.

Leaving our rig in the lower car park we strode up Pussy Cat Hill to the Campbell Memorial and outlook where folk had gathered to watch history in the making on the waters below back in 1964. Bad weather conditions on Lake Bonney in South Australia had alternative choice, Lake Dumbleyung, come to the fore that December. Donald Campbell made a test-run on the 22nd December before further bad weather arrived in Dumbleyung to thwart him. By the morning of 31st December, Campbell gave up hope on achieving a double world speed record within a calendar year. Amazingly, while flying back to Perth word that the Lake “was as calm as a mill pond” had the Speed Merchant return to race at the remarkable speed of 444.7km/h across a 13km long stretch of water and break the record just 8 hours before midnight to become the only man in history ever to do so. Hard to believe, as we stared across an expanse of different coloured substrates and saline flats almost devoid of moisture. Another interesting insight into the significance of this lake we happened to note was that Sir Peter Scott (co-founder of the World Wildlife Fund; his Wildfowl Trust in the UK (we visited three in 1984) as well as being one of the world’s most famous bird artists) actually came to Lake Dumbleyung to see pink eared ducks back in 1956. Numerous ducks on the course disrupted Donald Campbell’s trial run too! No sign of any ducks in this dry state.

“When and where the spirit can mine for nourishment in the little moments”...

 Dumbleyung proved well worth the detour.

Returning to the highway the threat of double gee became clearer with a sign requesting we check our tyres for Double gee spread. Deviltjies in South Africa – a nasty little pronged thorn! Once in the council run caravan park in the centre of Dumbleyung, we checked our tyres and then the soles of our shoes. The only specimen found, was impaled in George’s knee. Oh yes! We were welcomed into Dumbleyung by a sign picturing a duck (could have been a pink eared duck for all we knew) and the words “You have landed in Dumbleyung’- Same duck on departing the town requested “Buckle up before take-off” .... Ducks are of significance around here. A peaceful night followed in this seemingly deserted town- no warm glow of lights could be seen in any of the houses around us.

Hitting the road at a leisurely pace for Lake Grace, yet another lake with its floor encrusted with glittering salt and its flatness utilised to advantage not only by the road and railway line but also an airstrip. “Wave Zone” marked the 15km approach to Lake Grace. Fortunately this was clarified further along the road to mean giving a friendly wave- safely! We were not to come across another vehicle anyway. Lake Grace is part of a chain of salt lakes – a mere segment of an ancient river system that ran through here 20 million years ago. When the climate became more arid and seasonal the rivers slowly dried up and became the chain of lakes that exist today bringing our ‘Lake District’ tour into play.

Before too long we had also crossed the dry bed of Lake King.

How easily one could pre-book into Lake King Caravan Park expecting a fine scene beside a stretch of water and be bitterly disappointed to find oneself in a tiny park, no-where near any water let alone the Lake. George popped into the little tavern nearby to ask the condition of the gravel road we intended taking to Norseman. The barman was quick to say under no circumstances would he take that road with a caravan as it hadn’t be touched in twenty years beyond the Frank Hann National Park turn-off. He suggested we go north as far as Varley, giving us mud map directions to joining a well maintained gravel road thanks to Mining companies that use between Hyden and Norseman - the very road George had intended using before Dumbleyung came into the equation! Even better, this kindly fellow produced a brochure on the Granite and Woodlands Discovery Trail from Hyden to Norseman.

We missed a good photo opportunity on the road to Varley- an old truck perched precariously on a rocky mound with its front wheels over the cliff edge. With no safe place to halt and sun directly against us, the truck certainly gave us food for thought. Definitely a contrived situation but quite how it was managed was beyond us although George suggested it could possibly have been an abandoned road embankment from long ago and now, a curious landmark within wheat lands. Passing through Varley we spotted, just too late to be able to check it out, another quirky signpost to a rabbit cemetery! We crossed the State Barrier Fence before joining the “Discovery Trail’ at the Forrestania crossroad.

Opening up the brochure enabled us to follow the different sections and designated stops along the route which added another dimension to this leg of our journey. Stopping at Grevillea Hill we could see no obvious breakaway anywhere in sight - recommended as a great picnic spot or overnight camp. Further on we took the track to The Breakaways and still felt the name was a misnomer until distracted by a wonderful grove of ribbon gums dancing in the breeze. Camera clicking madly as we gently wended downwards onto the floor of an amphitheatre- only then did we realize the true beauty of the Breakaways- their tumbling forms spread before us with rich colours of rusty red, pink, purple, orange and yellow enhanced by the sun. Oh my goodness... so unexpected that we knew instinctively we had found a treasure of a place and we couldn’t help but hug each other in utter glee after choosing our camp site- not just for lunch but TWO nights at the very least. Such was the ‘sense of place’ here, we not only found ourselves watching the last light fade from the cliffs; the cast of a half-moon across the scene during the night, we also awoke early to specially witness the magic of first light falling upon the breakaway. All endorsed the calming, almost spiritual ambiance that prevails.

Long tendrils blowing gracefully – emitting a clacking, rustling paper sound as wind becomes stronger. Bark stripping occurs in a number of woodland eucalypts and is considered part of the eucalypt growth pattern yet it is this one Eucalyptus sheathiana (ribbon gum) that makes the more spectacular display

One of many lovely locations where the tumbling beauty of The Breakaways seemed at odds with the Macquarie dictionary definition of breakaway: ‘a gully formed by erosion’.

This was an intriguing route and one we will definitely make use of again in the future because it is the most direct back to Perth, lightly trafficked and considered ‘original’ land – True Wilderness. Through various quirks of geology and geography, and no readily accessible water, hardly any attempts at farming were made. We heard road train rumble past, above us at The Breakaways yet didn’t encounter any on our travels across, nor was the presence of mining at all obvious in the ‘greenstone belt’ that hosts nickel and gold deposits and gives reason for the good gravel road. In the area around Lake Johnstone past Traditional owners accessed the area as intermittently as water or food permitted. Tree-cutters seeking aromatic sandalwood timber had ventured in here well before WA took tight control over its world’s biggest Santalum spicatum resources. And when we came across an emaciated looking dingo watching us pass by we wondered how he had escaped the ‘doggers’ employed by the Agricultural Protection Board to work this country for over fifty years trapping dingos and feral dogs. Interestingly, although dog control with the use of the State Barrier Fencing and aerial baiting with 1080 poison takes precedence now, Doggers still play a role in this region and are known to camp in an old shed at Forrestania Plots- exactly where we joined the all-weather gravel Hyden-Norseman road. Throughout travelling the trail we were aware of the changing patterns of vegetation thanks to soil types and climatic factors – all in keeping with George’s passions. As we pulled across Lake Cowan causeway the gold mines east of Norseman and the white clouds of dust created from the milling of gypsum to the south announced our arrival into Norseman.

We refuelled and began looking around for a tap to replenish our water supply before setting off across The Bight. Unexpectedly, Lea noticed water dripping from Getaway’s door! What now? Water filled the kitchen sink to overflowing – the cupboards below the sink were leaking, the floor was wet with sodden mats... The last of our water supply had gone down the proverbial... To ensure dust wouldn’t rise from the road Lea had replaced the plug in the sink before packing and storing gear that morning BUT she had forgotten to turn off the water pump. When she recalled failing to do so- George felt all would be well! Fortunately we were able to completely refill at the Visitors Centre before continuing on to the Fraser Range Rest Area, 83kms east of Norseman for the night.

Our roost beside ‘Red Lake’ - our name for the unmarked, big red floored, dry lake below Fraser Range Rest Area.

Crossing the Nullarbor is one of the great Australian drives and here we were doing it for the fourth time and still enjoying it. Perhaps the strongest impression this time round was the greenness- from the moment we left Norseman the countryside steadily grew verdant. Familiarity drew us to camp sites we had previously enjoyed – we were torn between Moonera Tank and Madura Pass. The former won out as we were tired and it actually suited the direction from whence we came. Happily holed up in this bush camp of coastal thick, panic arose when Lea opened the deep freeze – only to have the door drop off in her hand. Gruffly George came to her aid until the true nature of the problem was revealed. Over time and constant vibration the fridge door had unknowingly been subsiding. Steadily compressing the spacers within and between the two door hinge and reaching the stage where the hinge pin had finally dropped out of the freezer door. We found ourselves in a hellish situation. MacGyver George to the rescue – against the odds he was able to create replacement spacers, realign everything and tighten the concealed bolt restoring the safety of our heavily stocked freezer. In the mean time, Lea cooked up all the remaining vegetables in readiness to cross the State border meeting the strict Quarantine laws.

Knowing fuel would likely be more expensive the further we went, we stopped for lunch in Caiguna and checked the price of diesel $1.99. MORE, than remote Hells Gate in far north Queensland – we couldn’t face that and moved on as our clocks jumped forward 45 minutes. Crossing the Roe Plains we kept watch for the landmark shoe tree only to find it had spawned many others... was that a swop shop clothing tree perhaps? Then came caps; thongs and, oh look- soft toys particularly rabbits, then mugs, dolls, sneakers/runners, underwear (this included an incredible array of knickers, broekies and floss- like items). Even a white elephant tree of the oddest assortment! A strange way of recording one’s passage but it does amuse or irritate depending on one’s frame of mind. Fuel price was better at Mundrabilla Roadhouse and as George filled up, he noticed a wire trailing behind the truck. On closer scrutiny it proved to be the Andersen Plug that had come adrift, shattering the housing as it dragged along the bitumen. No chance of replacing that until we reached Ceduna. Another clock change as we crossed the border and we didn’t stop until reaching one of the last Bunda Cliffs view-points, Peg 133 - relating to the number of kilometres from the border, where we have always stayed the night. Almost immediately others copied forming an overnight laager. The sheer number of caravans, buses and camper trailers heading west has been phenomenal – we can’t help wondering if they know something we don’t? The wind dropped and the most peaceful night in this normally turbulent spot followed.

Quite the most perfect day dawned and as we hurtled through Yalata Aboriginal Land at our usual gentle pace we bemoaned our poor timing for the winter visit of the Southern Right Whales yet again. As a result, we’ve never been able to see the Head of the Bight as the gate is locked outside May to October. Except... as we passed by, they were surprisingly open and our speed too fast to safely turn in! With considerable humming and hawing, it was some way down the road before we were able to turn about and take the 12km access down to the Head. WOW! It was so worth- while, even out of whale season. We happily paid the $5 p.h. fee to a very lively lady running the visitor centre cum cafe – learning much in the process as a result of her passion.

 

The Head of the Bight is an important nursery area for the endangered Southern Right Whales and we were impressed by the extensive series of board walks constructed to allow maximum vantage opportunities to viewing these giant mammals that come here to mate, give birth and raise their young over winter.

 Looking upwards at the dramatic Bunda Cliffs made a change from

 nervously peering over the steep drop into the ocean!

A wonderful hour spent at the Bight put us behind in making for Ceduna in time for lunch, giving us the afternoon for laundry, seeing to the Andersen plug and hopefully reserving a time for Skiv’s oil change. Eventually hunger had us pull into a rest area not too far off. On completion of our meal as Lea stood up her back went out, adding pain and discomfort to the journey. Our usual Shelly Beach Caravan Park was full and all the others looked packed in too. The Big 4 was able to offer us their last site, an expensive ‘Ensuite Drive-thru’ which under the circumstances proved fortuitous – thanks to its immediate proximity to our rig with George able to help his pain-stricken wife take a well overdue shower. The Park’s central position allowed George an easy into walk town where found a cooked chicken for dinner. Next morning, he bought a new Andersen plug and was able to reconnect with some difficulty while allowing Lea to lie flat as long as possible. Mindful of her discomfit we stopped in at many of the little settlements along the route to Augusta hoping to lessen the turnover of the odometer for the day- It was either unkempt, putting us off or full. Eventually Wudinna served well with its last available site. Being the gateway town to the Gawler Range, we found ourselves wistfully looking that-a-way – high temperatures usually put Gawler out of consideration and now it was a poorly Back! Never mind, Lea was feeling considerably nervous that school holidays and Easter was about to impact upon us while her husband was blithely unconcerned.

Shoreline Caravan Park, Port Augusta with its almost uninterupted wide views across to the Flinders Ranges, was down to its last couple of sites as we drew in there. Gratefully Lea retired to a flat bed while George set off to find someone to service Skiv. Nothing until after the extra long Easter/Anzac Weekend! Even at the Information Centre, George was warned that the weekend ahead would be the busiest in Lake Eyre. We had to rethink everything. Thankfully we didn’t have the Tasmania A’s to be concerned about- they had simply incited us for attention- saying they would like to join us on the Lake Eyre leg! We settled on hanging around the Yorke Peninsula for a week before returning to Port Augusta for Skiv’s service followed by the Royal Wedding before we continued on our way inland to Lake Eyre.

It is not our modus operandi to book ahead particularly when we have never been and seen- it is just too easy to be trapped in a dreadful setting. However, the last weeks of autumn had folk out in force to enjoy camping. With Easter weekend two days away- we made haste down the busy highway to hunt out a suitable place for ourselves with the aid of our trusty and new Camps 6. Of course, Murphy decreed we had to have a flat tyre en route which added to our traffic stress along the busy Princes Highway. Poor signage had us miss the first turning to the Yorke Peninsula. We ended up having to go as far as Snowtown where we saw the ‘Big Blade’ for the first time. What a macabre touch to a town that had notoriety thrust upon it in 1999 as police discovered the Bodies in the Bank serial murders. Finally, the road to Bute took us in the direction we wanted through wheat lands and quaint places with mining history much like Cornwall.

Gap Campground was our first choice as a possible location and  we were delighted to be able to set ourselves up behind the  dune on the Spencer Gulf.

The prime position within the Gap in the Dunes had been taken. Not the prettiest place but free camping in a relatively wild bit of coastland with a toilet facility close by – we were not to complain! Computers came out and to the sound of waves we enjoyed returning to a timeless life of writing, reading, walking, sleeping and eating... On the eve of Easter weekend, the campers kept coming well into the night- their disturbance making us groan in despair. They squeezed in along the narrow strip of bush. Short, sharp showers of rain throughout the night led to a soggy box housing our glasses in a cupboard, next morning. This is the third time – we need 'dye' to lead us to the illusive spot causing this leak- which is a worry. We encountered a charming couple out walking the same direction of beach and had a good natter. He’s a wheat farmer a bay away from us and his lady-friend, visiting from Adelaide. George promptly asked him about the lack of farming activity? We were told it was too early- May is the month for beginning the cycle of simultaneous tillage and seeding. Unusual summer rains had favourably raised the soil moisture levels with the resultant growth of ‘weeds’ which had necessitated heavy application of costly herbicides to keep the greening out throughout summer. Prior to planting, ‘brown fields’ are required. No doubt the same moisture regime accounted for the luxurious and diverse plant growth on the dunes as well as the proliferation of moths and butterflies, even snails. We have never seen such an explosion of tiny white moths.

Days were glorious with winter chills setting in as soon as the sun dropped. It was even colder towards morning and we would stay abed until the sun was high enough for us to arise comfortably. Lying there, listening to a wide variety of interesting topics on the radio until freaky ‘frog’ interference inevitably set in forcing us to switch off. Our television raises concern too, especially for the Royal Wedding. Lea is an avid Royalist, insisting for months, we ensure the best channel reception for the 29th April. She’s petrified of dropping ‘out of the world’ in the Outback of Lake Eyre for this important occasion! The night spent in Port Augusta tuned in ONE channel – Imparja at that. Checking with a neighbour we found their TV gave four channels. A salient question followed- Do we have analogue or digital TV? In ignorance we always took for granted the TV, which came with our set-up was modern and up to date as it was a “flat screen”!!! Out here, we hear the ABC channel clearly with an appalling frosty picture coming and going. Lea is fraught with concern... 

There was no let up in Easter traffic as we made the four hour journey back to Port Augusta. Our hearts dropped as we joined a queue of caravans outside the gates to Shoreline Caravan Park, over lunch hour. Thankfully, we had a place for the next three nights. As soon as we’d had a bite to eat, George shot off to have the tyre fixed, while there the dear man inquired about a knowledgeable Television man in the town and was sent to a very helpful repair man working out of his home garage. Our modern TV was analogue and we would receive little to nothing, travelling east. Our ability to receive Imparja in the Park was due to the strong analogue signal in an Aboriginal Community close by. We had two choices – buy a ‘set-top box’ or a new TV. George duly went off to price the options before returning home to disclose his findings. Concluding, we really didn’t have the space to house a ‘set-top box’ with the added inverter required; replacing a model past its use by date with a digital that drew far less power, was the only answer. George dashed back to the shop and returned with the new Digital TV. Aside from perfect clarity it provides many channels, not seen before - Lea is well set for the 29th! While SKV was serviced Lea saw to laundry. George found a hairline crack at the foot of the solar panel positioned above the cupboard. Hopefully the leak has now been resolved. Instead of completing our Lake District Tour at Lake Eyre for this month we close off April by watching ‘The Wedding’. Then our wheels may begin rolling inland in a northerly direction – reaching Lake Eyre sometime in May.

Tramping tales for March 2011

Early in the month we returned to the city for the Perth Writers Festival long weekend. Di and Peter Ryan let us hang our hats happily back in Henry Street. We chose a few of the many free reading and discussion groups to attend and Peter kindly played chauffeur to and from the University of WA to prevent parking problems. George’s preference for Peter’s workshop became evident after one attendance while Di and Lea enjoyed meeting authors and hearing their stories plus socialising in between with Eggy Boggs. By co-incidence Lea had picked out “Reading by Moonlight” from the local library only to discover the author, Brenda Walker, was one of three, discussing the very personal act of writing about their lives. This certainly added another depth to reading her book. As was the case with Raimond Gaita; as soon as he began speaking, Lea was reminded of a much spoken about film she had never managed to see – “Romulus, My Father”. Such was the impact of this author she promptly ordered his book and DVD from the municipal library – hoping it would be available before our 9 April departure. It was, making a fine read. Lea was glad to have read the book before viewing the film though. Another author whose short reading left Lea gulping back tears and feeling quite drained was Peter Rose’s memoir “Rose Boys” which won him the National Biography award back in 2002. Di and Lea ended up being very selective in subject choices as there were too many things the Ryan’s and Begg's wanted to do together and friends to see, that the few evenings were quickly tied up.

Visiting Ros and Rodney Richards to see their renovations and ogle over Rodney’s beautifully handmade furniture before enjoying dinner in their garden. Another evening took us to Velda and Peter Herring where we were absolutely blown away by their home. After all these years of living on the road never ever tempted to put down roots – we were stunned by theirs. Simplicity personified! Bush as much part of the house and vice versa. Their creativity very evident in everything, including the meal! We met the Herrings through Di and Peter, in the Northern Territory last year and made an instant connection with them.  Dinner with neighbouring Wendy Low for the second time, definitely makes her a new friend too. We hope there isn’t an underlying web of entrapment to enjoying all these new friendships around Perth!!!!! Unexpectedly, a cold virus ambushed George, laying him so low that he missed out on much; joining the Subiaco Walkercise members to stride it out in beautiful Kings Park. Cheap Tuesday at the movies (Conviction), lettuce soup lunch with Eggy Boggs followed by a dinner party laid on by Di to introduce us to more friends of theirs.

We returned to Getaway and our family in Sunset Ridge for a few days and there Lea was appalled to watch breaking CNN news virtually as it happened, the catastrophic 8.7 (upgraded later to 9.0) earthquake hit Japan. Almost immediately followed by a Tsunami of mind boggling and truly shocking proportions as it swept over farmlands – worse was to unfold in coming days! How many more of these frighteningly horrific events must we bear witness to within a short span of time? Yet no ways do they lose their dreadful impact.

Sunday morning had Saxon and Lea up early with Harley Rose dancing round in excitement as we readied ourselves for the Long Dogs WA walk.

 

Sausage Sundae was topped by a Great Dane cherry – Shannon! Disappointingly he didn’t make it into the photo.

On our return, George was ready and waiting to roll our rig out the gate and north to Guilderton, a good hour or more from Perth. Most folk refer to Guilderton as Moore River, as the popular caravan park concealed behind the primary dune close to the river mouth is an incredibly popular place with every weekend booked out for well over a year in advance. We arranged to stay during the quieter week days with Di and Peter as they trialled their new possession A-van Rhys mark 2 for the first time.

The unveiling... Mention must be made of this incredible early birthday present for George. We have searched high and low for a decent, easy to carry clothes drier without success. While with the Ryan’s, we mentioned the need to develop something top-notch. By strange quirk of fate, we had blown their cover! They had TWO Rhodesian driers – 38 years in their boxes and planned to give George one for his birthday. What luck! What unbelievable squirrels! It couldn’t be more perfect or meaningful!

Where the Moore River meets the Indian Ocean - the Aboriginal name “Gabbadah” meaning ‘mouthful of water’ is a far more appropriate name for this beautiful lagoon.

Tom, Holly and Carmen Rutter came up to share Sunday afternoon with us and in next to no time the party was on with the surprise addition of Frances and Joe Hossell. Finding Di and Peter were not at home, they decided to drive up and surprise them in Moore River! Ex Rhodies all, it wasn’t surprising that a braai with sudza and gravy went down a treat that night!

Photo shoot of the occasion ... Francis, Peter, Di, Carmen, Holly, Tom, George and Joe – oops a double Peter, how DID that happen?

At a decent hour early Monday morning, Velda and Peter Herring arrived to spend the day with us. Wish we had caught Velda giving George an art lesson on camera! No sooner had they departed than Di Godson arrived. Talk of a baptism by fire for the Ryan’s! We assured them socialising in this way was a rare happening. Never-the-less a grand time was had by all.

Lea and the two Di’s from the lookout atop the Moore River Dune, keeping up a Tuesday morning walk!

We had a day out with Peter and Di, driving further north and exploring all the camp sites spotted along the way until we reached The Pinnacles. We’ve visited this strangely charming National Park a couple of times during the early years of living in Perth and happily accompanied Peter and Di for their first time. Scientists are only unravelling the many mysteries of these formations – theories abound. Some believe the Pinnacles were formed underground, possibly 500,000 years ago during the Ice Ages of the Quaternary period. Others suspect they are the calcified remains of trunks from an ancient forest buried by sand in a period of intense weather and, the Aborigines call it Werinitj – Devil Place, because of sinking sands. Young men were told not to come here but some (to our eyes, a great many!) did not listen to their elders and when they got here, they vanished into the dunes. The pinnacles are their fingertips- trying to grasp hold of something to drag them-selves out of the sand!

One view of The Pinnacles, which cover a large area, we’ve never come across sinking sands or seen signs warning of this factor so perhaps it was only so, in the Dreamtime.

Life was sooooo pleasant we stayed another night! We spent the extra day at the Gravity Discovery Centre outside Gingin. Growing up in Africa- we possibly suffered some deprivation... Youth aside, who in their right mind would climb 202 steps up a steel tower with a very marked lean, clutching a balloon of water to test Galileo’s theory? The Centre proved to be most enlightening and interesting to visit, particularly as the Guide, another George, happened to take us in hand, simplifying the complexities of physics and cosmology for us. As a result of the abnormal physical and mental exercise and deep concentration we’d subjected ourselves to all morning, delicious wafts from someone’s lunch only served to intensify our hunger pangs! Peter insisted on ‘shouting’ us lunch. Since we could see how big the home-cooked serves were, we decided to share a plate between two. Wherein, the kindly Chef split them for us ever so generously.

Fifty five metres up, three of four ‘children at heart’ smile, after dropping their balloons of water proving Galileo correct- regardless of weight, objects dropped from height, fall at the same speed.

Returning to Sunset Ridge housekeeping began taking priority in readiness for getting back on the road – dentist, flu injections and baking- plenty of it. Filling containers with home-bakes, while we had the use of Saxon’s kitchen became George’s concern and Lea duly obliged- only he wanted to tuck-in far too soon!

Morning tea under the gum-trees was ‘blown out’ of the question by the Hill’s gully winds so we squeezed into Getaway with Jean Rogers and Ros and Rodney Richards.

A long awaited coffee and catch up with Viki Shelver

On a beautiful evening down at the Swan River we to ended March with a celebration... Di Ryan reaching three score years and ten.

We decided to round off the March blog a week into April when our time in Perth drew to a close. As the 1st April marked our arrival into Australia fourteen years ago it seemed fitting to meet up with the Lord’s and Tinley’s as they were remarkably kind in easing and assisting the new immigrants into life down under!

With Ken and Lynne caught up with her solo exhibition, Primal Connections at a gallery in Fremantle and we arranged to meet Liz and Des Lord there for the Opening before grabbing fish and chips to eat up at the War Memorial overlooking Freo’s harbour. All went according to plan making for a delightful evening although we forgot to toast our past and future! Mention must be made of a little incident that occurred beforehand... We arrived outside Early Works Gallery far too early. The drive from Maida Vale, with the full force of the sun in our faces had left us feeling extremely parched which easily reeled us into a large L shaped coffee house to wait out the 45 minutes. As we placed orders Lea asked where the coolest spot was and promptly headed in the direction pointed out. A handy newspaper soon had Lea’s nose in it. Time passed – NO George, NO drinks! Eventually Lea returned to the counter wondering where her husband could be, let alone the order. Poor waitress thought she had a sticky situation on her hands as George was sitting in the furthest corner, in quite the opposite direction to his wife! Unperturbed the MM (mere male) thought his wife had gone in search of a loo. Giggles still erupt at how easily situations can arise through poor hearing!

Birthdays took care of the first week in April with more time in the kitchen. Carrot cake and roast pork decked with plenty of crackling was Grandad’s choice for his day. While our youngest grandchild Erin’s morning tea with Strawberry Shortcake theme finished off our Perth sojourn.

The Arians celebrating together...

Turning two had Erin claim her historic wardrobe moment by wearing her mother’s ‘John Honey’ dress from Canada worn by Saxon on her 4th birthday back in 1980. The dress hasn’t shrunk, her children are taller!

 We are back on the road tomorrow bearing directly east across the Great Australian Bight.

Tramping tales for February 2011

Summer of Extremes – February was a shocking month the way it unfolded terrifying devastation and heartrending tales in the wake of disaster after disaster in the world around us. Truly of nightmarish proportions as TV and radio coverage brought home the immensity of it all. Notwithstanding the massive flooding that had saturated much of Queensland and along the Eastern hinterland into New South Wales and Victoria, severe weather warnings were issued as we clocked over into a new month. Along came category 5, Cyclone Yasi bringing devastating impact from wind speeds, sea surges and incredible wave height activity to knock more hell out of overworked, overstretched State Emergency Services, Police and Communities spiralling ever upwards to Queensland’s Premier, Anna Bligh. Although she appears to constantly battle unpopularity, her true forte came in the wake of the trauma heaped upon Queensland. Her leadership ability to handle impossible circumstances with calm and continual interaction with her people has put her head and shoulders above the rest. Massive evacuations took place from Cairns to Townsville and as Yasi crossed the coast at midnight on the 2 February, we lay in bed feeling a sick and nervous tension for those folk waiting for the most powerful cyclone combination in living memory to leave its mark on their psyches.

Before we had time to recover from those powerful images and even closer to home for us, FIRE swept through parts of the Darling Range randomly taking out 72 homes. Warnings of devastating winds especially in The Hills had us on alert all weekend as hot, gusty winds pounced around ‘Sunset Ridge’ – certainly that Sunday we hadn’t the slightest inkling of danger as we busied ourselves around the property. Mid-afternoon, Lea noticed a massive bank of white cloud across the western horizon and spoke to her husband about the “front” approaching, when they still had to prepare “Getaway” for an early departure next day. Shortly thereafter a call came from Paul’s parents. They had just landed at the airport from a week away in Bali and having received a text message informing them of fires in their suburb, they were anxiously seeking clarity. Turning to the Emergency Channel on the radio we were soon apprised of the ghastly situation occurring further south of us. What a dreadful homecoming! Their entire area closed off, Kay and Alan took refuge in their caravan, fortunately still parked here at Sunset Ridge where they waited out a very anxious night knowing their immediate neighbour’s home had been wiped out.

                  Mobiles are ‘lifelines’ - Kay fielding the many calls of concern for their safety as Kelmscott burned.

Officials read out a list at a Community Meeting next day. Although the Gee’s learnt their home was ‘fire damaged’ they were plagued by unanswered questions for another 12 hours.

Aside from the barrage of trauma occurring around us we have enjoyed particular times throughout the month...

We waved Talia off on her first day at Kindy.

A hot day was happily passed at Hilary’s Harbour beach catching up with Barbara Horne.

Colleen’s brother-in-law Pete Colvin celebrated his arrival at the half century mark with a sixties party. We joined a merry throng in true sixties style driving there in Paul’s dearly loved Ford Capri.

Saxon is wearing a vintage dress that once belonged to her mother! Isn’t it special when a defining moment is marked by a wardrobe choice – Lea’s engagement dress back in May 1968.

Home became Henry Street as ‘Getaway’ underwent an overhaul after five years on the road. Joyously we shared domestic life with Peter and Di Ryan. March last year they, along with many others around Perth, suffered tremendous damage to their roof and vehicles as a result of a dreadful hail storm. Insurance work replaced their roof and wooden floors last month and their million and one framed pictures needed to be rehung. Peter is a creature of habit while Di was keen on a change yet Lea’s ideas seemed pretty radical but somehow with four voices and opinions that big job was completed in between trips to the movies to see the very moving “Sarah’s Key” and a rather disappointing “Another Year” and plenty of socialising too.

A Matilda Bay Gathering took place on a Saturday evening with Meg and Ken Godwin, Bev and Roy Pearce, Ros and Rodney Richards, Eggy and Rob Boggs, Jean Rogers, Di Godson, Ady Emmerson, Ryans and ourselves.

 Usually such a well protected spot we were forced to take cover behind the biggest tree on the river front from an easterly wind Never mind chairs being upturned, grit and dust hurling around we made the best of it over a fine picnic dinner – each course produced by two couples.

Over ten days with our friends, we accomplished much to the benefit of all. The ladies cut down some curtains which had to be constantly remeasured before being sewn up for Getaway – turned out they had been stretched during numerous washings! Still they match our interior well. Rubber anti-slip matting was fitted to all the shelving and drawers of the Ryan’s new A-van while the men achieved much together in the workshop or rushing around the city. Impressive was the money George saved making his own “Rock Tamer” with much help from his friend! We now have a fine mudflap system hanging behind Skiv (SKV) designed to provide protection to our caravan from damage caused by rocks and road debris.



Pete Ryan stands beside his newly finished coffee table that was TWENTY YEARS in the making- no kidding! George’s encouragement and help brought this longstanding project finally to an end. With much fanfare it was carried into the lounge.

Getaway was ready - the usual greasing of wheel bearings and checking of brake linings completed. The three deep cycle batteries replaced for the first time. Interestingly, we discovered one was literally bulging from overheating as a result of being wrongly connected way back when we took delivery. Amazing too that we never encountered any problems! The entire chassis was power washed and wire brushed before being repainted by hand with anti-rust to ensure all nooks and crannies were safeguarded. A new air-conditioner was put in and we were stunned to hear that the old one was found to be full of gravel dating back to that stretch of new road on the Savannah Way outside of Burketown. We took the opportunity of having a slide-on awning fitted to protect the fridge from the sun and thereby lessen its workload. All the windows were resealed after the Perspex separated from the frame due to excessive vibration and dried out sealant. We were well satisfied with the service.

Having long since removed the remote controlled caravan mover (Power Touch unit) we’d had fitted years ago. George sold it on the Internet, advertising it through a Caravan Forum. He certainly didn’t expect the mad flurry of calls that came through at an unearthly hour on Saxon and Paul’s landline. Cheesed off that George hadn’t used his mobile number, he was routed from his bed at 7a.m. to field the incoming calls, which eventuated in father and daughter weeping with laughter over the confusion that ensued. Astonishingly, the successful buyer turned out to live in our suburb when most of the keen buyers lived on the East Coast, a time zone two hours ahead of us.

We spent 24 hours with Lyn and Ken Tinley in Fremantle, as we knew an evening would never be enough time together. An ill-starred afternoon at the movies had us promising NOT to call Ken to account for his poor choice. Fortunately for him, that was soon replaced in our memory by a fine fish and chip picnic up on Monument Hill to a spectacular and almost simultaneous combination of setting sun and rising full moon.



We arose early on a glorious Saturday morning to accompany Lynne, Ken and son Allan on their morning swim at Leighton Beach. We hadn’t brought bathers so we walked before the heat set in.

A Sunday Breakfast with Kay and Alan Gee revealed the full extent of the fire damage to their property. The pincer flames had miraculously stopped short on either side of wooden structures surrounding their home. Rather poignantly Alan related how at age 12 he’d been given a model Lancaster only he didn’t own an airbrush to paint it. Fifty years later he had just been given another model Lancaster for his birthday in Bali and was looking forward to returning to his workshop to use his airbrush. It had gone in the flames. So many people in losing their homes had lost the treasures of their lives. Blackened ruins dotted the landscape so arbitrarily - our hearts went out to them all.

Gone was Alan’s workshop and most of the front garden!

Flood and fire horrors were overtaken by an earthquake! Christchurch, a beautiful city that found a place in our hearts during our New Zealand tour in 2001 has had its very fabric torn apart leaving us reeling from all the lives lost, saved and shattered by this February upheaval of the earth’s surface.

Perth recorded its hottest summer. Lea and her grand-daughters sought relief from the sweltering weather in the pool each evening. TOO HOT to go in during the day!

Heading down to Fremantle one evening to have dinner with Tony and Michelle Cunningham, we literally dripped from high humidity- far worse than Darwin. The high temperatures we experienced all week were due to a tough to the West formed by tropical cyclone Carlos blocking sea breezes. Carlos has certainly been a long lasting and damaging cyclone. Our friend Jo Vandermark referred to it as a hand grenade of a cyclone when it hit Darwin mid month.



Celebrating her 4th birthday with a Pony Party, Talia cuts her pony cake with Mum’s help. Preparing for a party was hardly fun during a rolling heatwave. This was the 58th summer day with temperatures consecutively in the high 30’s, breaking a previous record of 56. More days were still to come!

39⁰C in the shade, the ponies arrived an hour late (refused to enter their horsebox!). We don’t blame them as they were sweating profusely as they took delighted children on numerous rides. Holly Horse helped lead – here Talia and Erin complete another round as Tom and Carmen watch from a tiny patch of shade!

Totally in keeping with February, the last day of summer went out with a BANG as a freak summer storm hit The Hills creating havoc along its route. During the unexpectedly fierce downpour with all its sound effects, George took the opportunity to wash down the caravan while enjoying a good soaking himself.

Tramping tales for Dec / January 2011

The sigh of relief we gave on arriving safely in Perth mid December was much muted in comparison to the rising crescendo of utter relief that steadily built within us, over the coming weeks... The sudden flooding of the Gascoyne River had us count our blessings first! Yes, the dry river we had camped along a mere week before with its ‘sheet flow’ upper catchment, unexpectedly raged down to Carnarvon, creating enough havoc and inundation in this agricultural centre to be declared a disaster zone. Not that too much attention was paid in their direction due to media focus shifting to the progressively falling rains on the hinterland of the Eastern Seaboard of Australia. In turn, Queensland’s severe flood warnings for Bundaberg, Emerald and Rockhampton triggered our realisation that fate, in the form of a property, Sunset Ridge had steered us clear of a dangerous set of consequences.

In the grip of a La Niña event (a cyclical phenomenon) Queensland succumbed in shattering rapidity to accelerated run-off of water to severely damage ¾ of this large State bringing untold misery to its people, infrastructure and industry at a financial cost that is beyond comprehension. The enormity of it all beggars’ belief as nature wreaks destruction in so many directions, painfully brought home by cameras and mobiles for the small screen. Technology is able to determine preparation for the worst in many cases and yet Toowoomba, safely perched on the top of tableland was slogged, with no warning, by an unparalleled ‘inland wall of water’ bringing terror to city streets as it tossed vehicles around like toys before continuing a path of annihilation down the Lockyer Valley where it took its highest toll of lives. All too ghastly and of nightmarish proportions leaving an anxious pit in the base of our bellies as we awaited word of ‘safety’ from cousin Tim and Les Howman with their family, Jane & Jonathan Palmer with their daughters. ‘All’s Well’ was a most welcome response. As for Ross & Jackie Lebish in Rockhampton- I doubt they know the extent of damage as yet to their drowned home, as they were safely away on Stradbroke Island for Christmas when the Fitzroy inexorably rose across its extensive floodplains, cutting the cattle capital off for days on end. Even the third largest city in Australia – Brisbane, despite hindsight gained from the 1974 peak flood scenario, was held to ransom by the deluge that came its way. Fading only a teeny bit in comparison with Queensland’s unprecedented rain falls, are New South Wales, Victoria, Tasmania and Northern Territory, who all battle these extra-ordinary monsoonal rains affecting people and their property across the country.

Soon after our arrival back in the Perth metropolis we collected cousin Anthea and took her south to Woodman Point Caravan Park – boasting she would finally enjoy SUN as her three month visit Down Under with mostly wet weather drew to a close. Sadly, despite Perth’s having experienced a very dry rainy season promptly followed by a summer of early searing heat, our promise of three perfect days did not come to pass, Anthea brought rain with her! We actually had to sightsee and picnic from inside Skiv one of the days, as cold blustery rains flailed outside.


‘Mrs Bucket’ accessing Skiv became our daily amusement- sorry Anthea!

 Fortunately we were granted some hours of fine weather during a visit to Penguin Island, just south of Rockingham. Although around a thousand rare Fairy Penguins nest out on this safe haven amongst the dense cover of Sea Spinach, saltbush and Acacia thickets, it was the assemblage of gulls, terns and pelicans that kept us well entertained but none more so, than the Buff-Banded Rails. Generally shy and skulking, we found many of these particularly elegant birds (worthy of an artist’s brush) roaming amongst the picnickers with delightful attitude, flicking their tails.

Each year, thousands of people visit Penguin Island, crossing by ferry or wading over the permanent sandbar at low tide. Despite many signs warning of tidal danger, the wind induced currents take lives. Tragically, two foreign dads drowned before the eyes of their families, the day after our visit.

No sooner was Anthea winging her way to spend Christmas with her daughter’s family in Singapore than we were dashing to catch up with the Osterberg Clan before Christmas was upon us. They were all out from Africa to spend Christmas in the home of their daughter and sister’s family. Too much talking displaced recording on camera the two visits we had with JG & Lynne in Duncraig and Maida Vale. Much the same happened when the Ryan’s and Lord’s came to dinner at ‘Sunset Ridge’ just after Christmas while the Gee’s were off camping.

Christmas Day - Talia and Erin alias ‘Weasel’ were somewhat overwhelmed until joyous excitement set in with all the unwrapping. This was the first Christmas we’ve ever spent in the home of our daughter Saxon, Paul and grand-daughters.

Saxon was debuting her first Christmas as hostess. Despite forty degree heat, in her inimitable style she coolly excelled with three different colour-coded Christmas spreads for breakfast, lunch and traditional English dinner, while the rest of us wallowed in the swimming pool. We were joined by Paul’s parents - Kay and Alan Gee along with Lil Holly and her Dad, Tom Rutter to make it a Perth family festival.


“Holly Horse” kept her godchild Erin with sister Talia, entertained for hours in the water – the only place to be with a relentless sun beating down.



We had to slip in this unusual photo of our beautiful niece Lil Hol, taken underwater on Christmas Day!

With a reprieve from the sun shortly after 8pm that night we all tucked into delicious hot traditional fare!

“Our Cinnamon beauty passed on 27th December 2010 as gently as she lived. The Husky era is now over” notified us of dear Mr (sic) White’s death and our hearts went out to Cousin Alison and Amanda in Tasmania as their two huskies brought much pleasure during their lifetime. We, in turn had received many dinner-tales for regaling!

After a tasty meal of chilli mussels, Old Year’s night passed quietly and obliviously into 2011 for us. Saxon had kept George hard at work transforming a double garage into a playroom for Talia and Erin for the best part of a fortnight. Father and daughter are equally ‘driven’ to accomplish physically demanding tasks in spite of high temperatures. Restorative sleep eluded us all at night when the violent GULLY WINDS of the Hills Region began their nightly wailing... In due course we learnt this was a characteristic of the area, enough to drive many people crazy during the summer nights.

The humongous noise generated in the gum trees around our home had us listening with nervous apprehension for the roof to fall in.

Mention must be made of Harley-Rose the Gee’s much loved dachshund. A diamond hunter at the best of times bordering well on neurotic in her search for glinting lights has become George’s shadow due to regular sightings of reflected sunlight from his watch face. H-Dog has virtually deserted her family for our caravan home sleeping tucked up against George - the very man who wouldn’t marry Lea until her sausage dog was accidently killed!

Harley’s intensity in searching out ‘diamonds’, even within Getaway is immense.

With the playroom completed, we hitched up and pulled out of Sunset Ridge in the middle of January, had Getaway checked over in readiness for a major service in early February before we were able to head south for two weeks. En route for a night in Yalgorup National Park- a favourite spot in the peppermint groves beside Martins Tank Lake we were able to make a brief stop in Secret Harbour to meet up with Tim Smook and his delightful blonde four year old Caitlyn with an uncanny likeness to her Aunt Bronwyn, in Durban. Decades have passed since we last saw Tim and we’re thrilled to have him and family living in Australia which will, hopefully, lure his parents Ted and Ann Smook over for a visit, in time.

As a large part of sodden Australia gauges rains, river levels and record heights being peaked, our small south west corner is tinder dry. All the more distressing are the pyromaniacs. We’ve had quite a few these past weeks and news of a conflagration in the Clifton Lake area the night before our departure had us slightly antsy and ready to change plans should the need arise. All was well in Yalgorup National Park and we spent a peaceful night before making tracks to Gracetown. We were booked in for the weekend specifically to attend the Lord/Zadow wedding.

An impromptu fish and chips supper at Gnarabup Beach on the eve of the wedding - we joined the bride’s parents Des  and Liz Lord, Judy and Owen West, Des’s sister Ros from Stellenbosch and Liz’s brother Kerry and wife Rose from Auckland. Shortly after, the bridegroom’s family – ‘the Kojonup farming contingent’ arrived. Introductions soon set the scene for a particularly convivial wedding.

The delight of being in the right place at the right time to attend the last of the Lord weddings required the right gear! An outfit belonging to Lea’s late mother came out of mothballs. Pete Ryan rallied with shoes and a tie. Hair! Something needed to be done about that. Di Ryan cut George’s and Lea booked an appointment in Margaret River for her hair. She was squeezed in at the start of the day with instructions to come with newly washed and dried hair. Lea simply wanted that professional touch to tie up her hair in an easy informal style. On arrival back at the truck 30 minutes later, she was met with stunned, somewhat nervous laughter by her husband. Not only could he detect little difference from the front, his description of the back: “a strange woven sparrow’s nest” did little to instil confidence or allay the pain of shelling out $65 for 15-20 minutes work on a heavily pinned immovable concoction she could feel. Although a big letdown, we both decided to let it BE...

Our sartorial efforts!

Cape Lavender, Wilyabrup was the venue for a wedding seeped in atmosphere- a maze of tall lavender bushes lined the pathway leading to the garden of green lawns under sunshine, overlooking water and backed by trees. A bus brought in the glamorous young crowd in their minimal summer best and position was taken up beneath some trees to await the arrival of the bridal party. We were soon jockeying for sunny spots as a nasty breeze nipped at us all. By the time the simple and most significant matrimonial service was over, the mass group photo taken, guests beat a hasty retreat to seek out the last patches of sun before it sank behind the trees. It wasn’t long thereafter, that all manner of items were retrieved from cars in an effort to keep warm. By the time Conky and Andrew returned from their ‘photo shoot’ the evening chill had turned their elegant guests into a strangely mismatched dress code and the celebrations were on. Inner warmth came from the all round happiness and family histories eloquently expressed during the course of the toasts. We were privileged to be part of it all.

Des and Liz bringing their stunning daughter, Corrine to nature’s altar to wed her Andrew.

Although lower temperatures seem to frequent these southern reaches of the South West, we are always drawn to the scenic splendour of its karri forests, vineyards, coastline and eclectic communities. Thus having made the trip for the wedding we were keen to linger longer revisiting much loved places even discovering new. En route for Conto’s Campground we pulled into Gnarabup Beach as close as we could safely get to Kalifi, the beach holiday home of Des and Liz – Well timed! They were just returning from a morning beach walk with their house guests. All were ready for a hard earned brunch which we enjoyed partaking with them before continuing on our way. Returning to our favourite site we were met with that sinking feeling of ‘invasion’ as there was a caravan parked in ‘our peppermint grove”. We had to remind ourselves “solitude is an unexpected luxury, not a right”. It turned out Bill & Liz were the incoming Campground Hosts (they had arrived a few days too early for their stint)- National Park Volunteers who maintain standards and an eye during peak season summertime. They turned out to be delightful people and fonts of all knowledge.

Di and Peter Ryan arrived the following day for “training”. They take possession of their pop-top A-Van late February and we spent the next week together relaxing and enjoying the great outdoors together.

Enjoying the splendid views from the Cape to Cape tracks we were delighted to unexpectedly have a Western Grey rise out of impenetrably thick coastal scrub. As cameras clicked a curious female and joey poked heads above the thickets. Our close encounter ended with a chuckle as the youngster struggled to match the classiness of his parents bounding away over difficult terrain.

We walked, we talked, played Bananagrams, Deal or No deal and read... all within nature’s backdrop and some entertaining vivid blue fairy-wrens. A book awaiting return to the owner with the curious title “Fly Fishing for Sharks, A memoir of life with OCD” by Andrew Alexander caught Di’s attention and from then on she was HOOKED. Compelled to take ‘time-out’ alone to read on... When she finally returned to socialise with us, her eyes were moist with tears while her heart wanted to sob. The exact reaction Lea had on completion. We found we’d both cried in the final pages, struck by the power and grace of a beautifully written memoir. It’s a book worth looking for.

We moved on to Augusta and only just managed find a site available to us. Beautiful coastal spots are at a premium during the Christmas School holidays

Awaiting a lunch treat of Fish and Chips beside the Blackwood River-mouth George and Peter
planned to revisit their schoolboy speciality bully-beef and egg jaffles over coming days!

Feeling cramped we moved on a day later to Molloy Island, further up the Blackwood River. Our memory of an informal caravan park overlooking the Blackwood River and the private Island of Molloy, large numbers of birds circulating around and within caravans and tents had us keen to share this pretty place with Di and Peter. Again, only one site available but at least we had a view of the river. Although parrots didn’t visit us we had plenty of ducks waddling around. We planned to stay two nights and move on to Alexandra Bridge Campground for our last night with the Ryan’s but our run of good weather came to an end at Molloy and we stayed put, which was as well as a leak came to light on the sky hatch during heavy rain. We hope it was simply due to the uneven ground, ‘Getaway’ was parked on. Fortunately this can be checked out when our caravan goes in for a five year major service on the 7th February. We parted company with our friends as they continued on down the coast while we turned inland to Pinjarra, where we spent our night in the town’s Rest Area that we particularly like.

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie- Oi, oi, oi at our caravan door ensured we knew this was our special day of thanksgiving.  Cheers to Loraine too.

Gee, Rutter and Begg families celebrated Australia Day together. Finishing off,  atop the container at Sunset Ridge to watch the ‘Sky Works’ display in Perth.

We ended January with Aquarian celebrations for Saxon and Lea. With temperatures topping 40’ on the 28th January, our niece Carmen Rutter flew into Perth to begin her new life after nine years in London. We all dashed to the airport to form a noisy reception beside her father Tom and sister Holly with our balloons and flags to welcome Car ‘home’.

Lea celebrated her shared birthday with a skype chat to grandson Finn turning two in Cape Town before escaping to the pool with her grand-daughters.  Here, she enjoys fun and games with youngest grandchild Erin.