Armed with more of Wonda Bake’s goodies we take the North West Coastal Highway towards the tropics. Beautiful clear day after last night’s storm and rain!
Northampton is just up the road."Storytellers - Keepers of the Dreaming”: Our tourist brochure promises an outstanding Aboriginal tourism experience - and then there is no-one around. How disappointment! The tiny town itself is sweet with inviting cafes, an info centre, a museum and lots of painted sheep running down the street. It is embedded in rolling hills of grain fields. Huge sand blows block access to the ocean, giving way to towering cliffs along the coast.
Hutt Lagoon is nearly around the corner. Separated from the Indian Ocean by cliffs and sand dunes, it is mainly fed by underground water, slowly seeping into the lagoon. The Dunaliella Salina algae loves the warm, salty environment. And we love the algae. It is creating the astonishing hues of pink the shallow lake is famous for. It’s quite something! And beautifully serene. Worth a glass of bubbles!
The coastal part of Kalbarri National Park starts only half an hour north of the lagoon. Fans of the Victorian Coast with it’s twelve (or so) apostles cannot go past this spectacular part of the world. The cliff walk between Natural Bridge, Island Rock, Castle Cove and Grandstand Rock Gorge drop dead gorgeous with vistas that blow your mind! The breeze is deceivingly pleasant. We may have underestimated the sun’s rays. Paul pays for it later on with facial features that are as radiant as the stunning coast line.
Touristy Kalbarri Town is a beautiful place, located on the mouth of the Murchison River (the same one, the pub in Cue is named after)Touristy Kalbarri Town is a beautiful place, located on the mouth of the Murchison River, the same one, the pub in Cue is named after! I love how neat and tidy everything is. A massive sand bar is sheltering the river from the ocean and provides picturesque yet safe mooring. Taking in the scenery (can’t get enough of it), we hunt down the legendary Gorges Cafe at the harbour. Nothing beats a shady, iced latte on a hot summer day!
By the way, it is not nice to be laughed at when asking for a sunset cruise for tonight. All tours are booked out. Theoretically it is low season. We have not factored in the fact that holiday makers cannot leave the state - sigh. On a positive note: We now don’t need to stay at any of the crowded caravan parks in town. Refreshed we press on to Galena, a free camp site on the river. It looks close on the map but it’s actually 80 kilometres out of town. And 80 k’s back the next day, exploring the national park and the stunning skywalk. The views at Galena are lovely. But I sense a tad of nuisance in Paul's voice. He is under the influence of a cold (while glowing in the dark). Time and the tranquility of this spot may sort him out. I hope.
We set up camp, grab a cuppa. While Paul rests, I explore the river, the old bridge and the footings of the new one another 100 metres away. Beautiful! The water looks clear but weedy, not too inviting - one never knows, what lurks in its shadows.
Later on we are testing our new toys, the OM4 and the Mavic Pro. Some of the results heavily feature in this blog. Pretty exciting!
The newly opened Kalbarri Visitor Experience is quite something: An elegant fusion of engineering and indigenous world views. The centre sits on the edge of the ancient Murchison Gorge. Two walkways project 17 metres over the edge of the gorge and hover over a 100 metre drop off. The views are spectacular! Not only of the vast valley but of vast amounts of blown away hats that no-one dares to recover.
The parks story goes back some 400 million years. It was formed by an ancestral river cutting the first valleys, shaping the initial bedrock. As sea levels rose, it was buried under towering amounts of sediment. The tectonic forces that then lifted the land must have been immense. Vertical cracks appeared, access water followed, grinding the sandstone back to the old bedrock, undermining the sediments, creating the parks unique features such as the Loop and Z-Bend with the towering cliffs.
Ancient rocks speak to me of aeons of change, yet consistency measured by human lifespan. It provides a reliable source of water, food and ultimately trust. The indigenous people felt it and that forms the very foundation of their relationship to country. I doubt that I have this intense and deep connection to my homeland, Northern Germany. And if so to what part: The eastern hills of Schleswig-Holstein or the western marshes? If home is where the heart is it can’t be either of them. I am sad that I cannot tell, yet feel the need to do so, to centre myself and recharge. Indigenous folks regularly do exactly that, revisit places they associate with their kin. Like their ancestors before them, they walk their unchanged, traditional land, reenacting generation-old rituals rebuilding connections with every visit. I never had this connect. Instead I feel that I always have to be elsewhere. There is a void, I did not know existed. Pretty pictures won’t fill it: “Is that even me in the photo? Was I truly there?” Feels unreal. Yet here I am, writing, thinking lots, not feeling enough, desperately trying to find myself in pics, missing the real moments on the way…
The skywalk is stunning. Again I am taking pictures instead of connecting. I am in awe of the engineering and the architecture. Massive amounts of concrete and steel, blend effortlessly into the ancient landscape. Pathways and artworks explore the heritage and culture of the traditional owners. Statues of local fauna and some fossils seems to pounce at you. I love the indigenous veneer, integrated into the pathways, the interpretive signs, all part of the structure rather than an afterthought. I love the totem sticks and the patterns that migrate from them onto the pathways, then the seats and other artefacts which in turn provide space to sit and be together. So well done. Kids are squealing with delight on their treasure hunt for the replica of another thorny devil, an arthropod, a quoll or a family of emu’s amongst the spinifex. I love how even the cafe breathes aboriginal culture in design and products. Well done, WA. Thank you for taking on this journey!
A bit further down the road is Nature’s Window. We have to beat quite a number of visitors to capture this iconic landmark. Past the window starts the cliff top walk. It’s unfortunately closed due to expected high temperatures and the risk of exhaustion. What a pity.
Instead we heading towards Hawk’s Head and finally Ross Graham Lookout where we can finally sink our feet into the ground and explore the sandstone cliffs, all the way down to the river.
As beautiful as the gorge is, the plateau it sits through is stunning in its own way. It reminds me of the coastal Wallum country with low shrubs, bushes and millions of wild flowers. The variety, colours and smells are staggering. Once started, it is impossible to stop photographing. Spring starts a month later than in the southern parts of the state. We are here at the right time.
After a good night sleep we are on the way to Carnarvon, a 6 hours drive. The country changes from wheat fields to sandstone heaths and semi desert. It is quite stunning how extreme the coastline changes. The region now looks desolate. Despite some rock-art of the different kind.
Bypassing Monkey Mia we still get to marvel at Stromatolites, an ancient community of bacteria that live in warm, hyper saline coastal pockets. Having been on the planet since the dawn of live, they are the reason that we have the oxygen required to breathe today. The “pool” is picturesque, especially with the storm as a backdrop. I have trouble grasping the magnitude of what we are walking through. Suppose the bacteria are still doing their job, somewhere hidden from view, unbeknown to us, underneath the board walk.
Carnarvon, yes! Civilisation! The pretty, small town attracts tourists with old buildings, murals, and street art. The water front is sweet and the old railway track across the mudflats now a walking and riding trail simply ingenious. Not too impressed with the trail head at Babbage Island and the light house. Looks a bit dilapidated.
Obviously money is sparse or more urgently needed elsewhere.
Carnarvon is the capital of WA’s tropical fruit industry. The farm trail hugs the Gascoyne River. Dry for most of the year it contains enough underground water for few bathing holes and to irrigate. Bananas on one side, wine on the other. And few small crops. Most of the farm sales have finished for the season. Means the best option for fresh produce are the servo and the supermarket or the farmer’s market on Saturday morning.
But let’s get out of the wind first. And the rain. The fence of the local caravan park seems to be a great choice. Plus hot showers. And the option to wash our gear.
It’s Monday. The storm has given way to a glorious sunny day! Lovely temperatures and a slight breeze.
Carnarvon’s well advertised space centre, based around the dish and its significance in the American race to the moon is rather uninspiring. Unless you are a hard core space nob, this is museum with thousands of artefacts on display is rather irritating. Needs a good clean up.
We are allowed to climb into an original size replica of an Apollo capsule. Listening to an old radio recording, counting down to lift off, the only thing I can think of is that farting is not an option right now! Just imagine the poor volunteer opening the capsule to release us and our toxic gases! Oh Boy…
The Gwoonwardu Mia Gascoyne Aboriginal Heritage and Cultural Centre is a different story. It is a mighty fine building with a lovely crew, showing us around. The exhibition itself is tiny but nicely done.
It is home to the Burrowing Bee Lady and her passion Aamegilla dawsoni: Once a year thousands of bees emerge form WA's clay pans to mate. Males are the first to hatch The larger majors patrol the main arena, the smaller minors the outer perimeter. The girls arrive later. They immediately prepare a new brood chamber in the ground and fill it with a drop of honey. Mating is ferocious. After the egg is laid, the chamber get’s sealed and that’s it. After about three to four months the sweet larvae are big enough to be carefully dug up and either eaten raw or roasted over hot ashes. Delish!
We get to pat one of the large insects. The wingspan can be close to 45 mm!
Enter Renee, part Indigenous, part British, with lots of stories to share. She shows us the gardens, introduces us to a couple of bush foods (see Green Bird Flower) and shares very personal stories about her struggle with cancer, alcohol, domestic abuse and the troubles with her son. We mention our next stop, the Kennedy Range National Park, some 240k’s away. It turns out to be her ancestral home.
It plays an important part in her story of wellbeing, so she pretty much urges us to go there and pay respect to her ancestors like thousands of generations have done before. Her idea of getting into contact with country is going bush while eating pie and mushy peas, thus fusing her aboriginal and British heritage. Could it be that easy? If so, bring on pretzels and apple strudel!
On the map the road to the Kennedy’s it’s mostly dirt road. Turns out it’s easy sailing with black top all the way to Gascoyne Junction and then another 70 k’s of pretty well maintained gravel road. The range is certainly off the beaten track, a hilly outcrop, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. And so worth the visit!
Honeycomb Gorge certainly tops it. What a spiritual place! The stillness is amazing. It is the first time on our trip that I am feeling grounded (even without pretzels or apple strudle). Maybe that’s what connecting to country is all about: Switching off Internet, TV, phone reception, back ground noise, light pollution, rubbish and digging your feet into the warm red dirt. So quiet. Heaven!
We set up camp at Temple Gorge, celebrate the sun set and finally get to kick off the boots. At least for today.
Honeycomb Gorge certainly tops it. What a spiritual place! The stillness is amazing. It is the first time on our trip that I am feeling grounded. Maybe that’s what connecting to country is all about: Switching off Internet, TV, phone reception, back ground noise, light pollution, rubbish and digging your feet into the warm red dirt. So quiet. Heaven! We set up camp at Temple Gorge, celebrate the sun set and finally get to kick off the boots.
Up a side gorge, we find some pretty cool rock formations and under a dry water fall more of the curious honeycomb structures. How big do the bees have to be to create these hives? Scientists are not sure what caused the holes in the soft sand stone. According to Paul they were created when the world was still a giant frappé. Suck the liquid out of the mush and the left overs look like honey combs.
Focussing on the uneven pathways is super important. Takes your mind off everything else. Great exercise in mindfulness and in avoiding ankle sprain.
Afterwards we are up the 80 metres of the Escarpment Trail on to the plateau, high above the plains of the Lyons River. My arse! If that’s just 80 metres than I am totally out of shape, huffing and puffing!!! Thankfully it early as it is still pleasantly cool. Would not want to do this climb in the heat of the day.
The views from the top are spectacular. Could sit here for hours gazing into the distance. Thanks, Renee, for insisting on us to visit!
Down at the camp, after a hearty breakfast, we take our gear and head back to the coast. What a great place - worth the tiny detour!!!!
We head towards Exmouth 370 k’s away.
After leaving the Gascoyne River valley, the country side is pretty nondescript. Minutes turn into hours of monotony. Not a lot of traffic to distract. After two hours we excitedly turn off to Coral Bay, a coastal town we have heard so much about. It’s tiny, the bay seems pretty. And one caravan park after the other. Beer gutted blokes belch at their mates. Bodies contort to archaic duff-duff sound. The mix of stale sun screen, alcohol fumes and sweat finally does it to me. I desperately want to stretch my legs and grab a coffee. Instead we refuel and leave this nasty copy of Mallorca’s infamous Ballermann. Oh boy, didn’t see that one coming!
Only 150 k’s to Exmouth - we can do it!
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