On 23^rd January, we hadn’t ridden very far north from Mallacoota when we crossed from Victoria into New South Wales.

Louise had performed yet another stunning job of sleuthing that led us to Mystery Bay and the bush camp site in the trees behind beautiful beaches. But I’ve hopped ahead too far. We passed through Bermagui and while Louise conferred with a lady in the info centre, I inspected a promising little bakery across the road. The baguettes looked just like those pointy-ended ones (top right in photo below) you find in French pattiseries. Once set up at the Mystery Bay camp site, we ripped into one with butter and camembert. The bread was the best we’ve had all trip. Such simple pleasures can be so exquisite.

Mystery Bay was bracketed by rocky headlands and provided a popular arena for families to enjoy sheltered ‘beach time’. Beyond the southern mini-headland was another beach with another beyond it. We less social animals, preferred the tranquillity of the deserted beach a few down. It was beautifully unspoiled. Two days here allowed for a bit of internet time back in Bermagui and thus another baguette.

There was a certain urgency to leave Mystery Bay on 25^th January – we had a table booked for lunch at Rick Stein’s “Bannisters Restaurant” for lunch in Mollymook. The sunshine in Mystery Bay was valued as we rode north to Mollymook getting wetter by the kilometer. Due to school holidays we had booked a tent site but on arrival, upgraded to a cabin. The lunch was magnificent – it needed to be to offer a hint of value with the Rick Stein name adding about ten bucks per course. After a bit of time in frugal mode, we pushed the boat out, exploring the wine list by the glass and then, on departure, the

top shelf. The fella who poured my Calvodos didn’t know what it was and half-filled a wine glass. Back in the cabin it was water and tea to sober up with the Aussie Tennis Open keeping us entertained.

The following morning we set off on a big ride north and then inland, skirting around Sydney and up into the Blue Mountains. As luck would have it, the lunchtime munchies arrived at the same time as an old-fashioned roadside Inn hoved into view. It turned out to be “Peppercorn Creek”, an organic café operated by a Christian community. The Beef Stroganoff pie rated an 8. Louise’s Chicken and Leek pie an 8+. Our destination was Mega Valley’, left from Blackheath. The black clouds had been gathering so with a murderous sky above, we checked into a motel in Blackheath, minutes before the heavens opened. That evening we watched Fed put on a masterclass against the up-and-coming Korean chap, Chung.

Saturday 27^th we set off towards Mudgee visiting Mount Panarama at Bathurst on the way.

Being a circuit of public roads, we did a couple of laps and were struck by the steepness of the hill and the tightness of the turns leading down from it.

Our actual destination was Hill End, in the sticks between Bathurst and Mudgee. Again, the black clouds were gathering. Brief consideration was given to sheltering in a tiny church but clad in our notionally waterproof giant condoms, we continued along a great up and down riding road. Then the lightning bolts were followed instantly by thunder claps, the prompt the rain was waiting for. And down it came. An utter deluge. It fell so heavily the parched fields were soon bedecked with water rushing down them. Big roadside ditches overflowed, torrents crossed the road and elsewhere it seemed to be an inch deep in seething water. Our visors were streaming so we plodded along in second gear over this wild hill-billy country and then, as suddenly as it started, it stopped. We rode into the little camp site at Hill End sodden. Once this place had a high street a mile long and 26 pubs. Now the local council is trying to preserve the 20 or so buildings that remain from those gold rush days. One pub still functions – as above. On the Sunday morning (28^th) we left, we did a big walk up to Bald Hill thinking it was Merlins Lookout. Then rode the short distance up to the pub where we crossed the road to the little bakery café. The Irish Lamb Pie was a 9+. Replete with pie int’ tum, we headed north along more hill-billy roads through another cloudburst, this one of longer duration that folded a big gum tree onto the road ahead of us. We slowed to a halt to find the driver of the 1^st ute to the scene man-handling a sizeable section of tree to the side of the road. I joined the effort and hauled another smaller section and was impressed to find that it was a she – they make ‘em burly round there. In minutes other utes had arrived and the tree was soon losing the battle. As we rode around the prostrate and shrinking tree, the intact trunk that blocked one lane was being winched out of the way. We reached our Telegraph House apartment at Gulgong, saturated. But the weather, like us, changed so that our gear swung gently in the warm evening breeze and sunshine. We stayed 3 nights, not because Gulgong offered much, although in Gold Rush days there were 20,000 souls living there instead of the mere 2,000 now. The purpose was to allow me to focus Monday 29^th and Tuesday 30^th January upon the logistics to get our bikes and ourselves back to NZ 18 days later. We also had the opportunity to watch the Men’s Final which saw Fed beat Cilic in a thrilling 5-setter. Feeling chuffed with the organisational progress by the morning of 31^st, we headed NE from Gulgong for Gloucester……… which didn’t inspire us so we decided to continue on to the next night’s destination of Port Macquarie. This involved a section of road known as “Buckett’s Way” – above.  Motorbike riders prefer to avoid main highways. We took the road east towards the A1 Highway but turned north at Kranbach. From there we passed through Burrell Creek, Wingham, Killabakh, to Comboyne. This last section was challenging. The weather had deteriorated to light rain and then without warning, the tarmac finished and the unsealed road starting snaking its way up and up and up through thick forest until we were high on a ridge. The road then carried on up with daunting drops to left and then right but the view of the forested drop was mercifully obscured by rain and mist – we were actually in the cloud. Eventually we headed downhill with the total 40 km journey over this immense chunk of the Great Dividing Range taking 1 hour to complete. Back down on more level land tarmac greeted us. Finally, after about 530 kms and 6 or 7 hours riding, we checked into Beachside Apartments opposite Flynn’s Beach in Port Macquarie. Camping was not an option yet again. But Mike’s Seafood was and a great feed of fish and chips hit the spot.

Foul weather extended our stay in Port Macquarie, allowing time for my rear tyre to be replaced. One afternoon while Louise had a nap, I had a beach walk and a spot of rigorous body-surfing at Flynn’s Beach – above – where only the very keen were in the water. We walked round to the Koala Hospital and learned what a dedicated bunch of mostly volunteers can achieve for these furry friends. Louise has written a piece about this wonderful operation. All I might add here is that the happy chappie in the photo above strikes a pose that puts me in mind of how I feel on the bike – clinging on and lovin’ it!

Burkhardt’s Bakery was highly rated but I couldn’t give its Steak and Mushroom Pie more than a 7.

The forecast suggested better weather lay inland so on 3^rd February we rode out of Port Macquarie along the Oxley Highway to Walcha. What a ride. From Walcha up Thunderbolt’s Way to Bundarra and a free camp by the river – see below. About 37 kms south from there along dirt roads was Rockview, a property bought by Simon Marais for the South Endeavour Trust – see piece about this further on.

Back for a pub lunch in Bundarra and a puncture for Louise – again. We figured we would need to take the wheel off, strap it to my bike and then, the following day, Monday, I would take it up to Inverell to get it fixed. When checking with the publican if we could leave the bike round the back overnight, a local sitting at the bar said “Hang on a minute.” He peered out of the front door and showed us the sight of a building nearly opposite where the garage door was open. “He’ll fix it.” There must be a moral to this story.

Bundarra up to Tenterfield on Monday where we noticed a sign advertising Bed and Breakfast for $99 in a mansion – Stannum House. For those who have seen The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, this film might give a few clues as to the style of the place and the Sri Lankan family that owned and operated it. Magnificent in its bones, but somewhat tacky in its fixtures and fittings, I had a go at the $10 buffet dinner, tempted by the reference to two Sri Lankan dishes. I returned upstairs to my hunger-free wife and described the repast as being akin to a school lunch. However, we stayed another night to facilitate a ride to Bezzants Lease, another South Endeavour Trust property. That night we enjoyed a smoked salmon salad on the roof ‘look-out platform’ and washed it down with a bottle of bubbles.

Wednesday 7 February saw us go north from Tenterfield on a big loop ride through beautiful country, passing through Bald Rock National Park, where we walked a short distance to Thunderbolt’s Hideout, Captain Thunderbolt aka Frederick Wordsworth Ward being a reknown bushranger (1835 to 1870).

The loop ride took us past Wylie Creek, Woodenbong, Kyogle and onto Lismore, treating us to some lengthy spells of good quality unsealed road and some shorter sections of the worst sealed road we had encountered. That night we stayed with friends, Ross and Belinda in Evans Head and a very social night it was too.

On Thursday another soft front tyre on Louise’s bike trimmed our plans of another loop ride, instead getting a new inner tube fitted in Ballina. From there to Skennars Head for a night catching up with Heika and Winston. We dined at The Red Wok Thai Restaurant in Ballina, where the food was like the evening – excellent.

Finally, we rode into Byron Bay on Friday 9 February, checked into The Oasis Apartments for 3 nights spanning a very special occasion. Many months previously, young friends Kristian and Anja had invited us to their Wedding Party on 10 February in Byron Bay. We decided to make this the ‘finishing’ point for our Big Aussie Trip. Sam and Val came across for the weekend, having befriended the happy couple during their year in Wellington. This made for a double treat for us, welcoming Sam and Val to the apartment having not seen them since April 2017.

On the Saturday we walked into town then along the famous Byron Bay Beach towards the lighthouse. Then up onto the headland and along the track to the most easterly point of Australia – photo right.

Not much further in distance but what felt like a lot in altitude was the lighthouse – a real beauty.

Since most people reading this will not know the couple, I’ll skip the details of the wedding. Suffice it to say that this very special pair of individuals were at the centre of a bunch of wonderful people gathered to celebrate their tying of the knot. A beach was involved. A Bistro. A superb meal. Lots of entertaining speeches. Some boogie, with Eagle Rock necessitating a down trou dance for the chaps – strange but fun. A brunch aftermath the next morning and then everyone scattered. We had some beach time back near our apartment, followed by a hit of tennis then a swim. Sam and Val headed off for a skiing holiday in Japan on Sunday evening, leaving us to prepare for the last dash south towards Sydney the next morning.

On Monday 12 February we left Byron Bay and blasted 526 kms down the Pacific Highway to Bulahdelah, about 240 kms north of Sydney. The objective for Tuesday was to return to Jean and Cathy’s house by 11 am, the 18 May 2017 starting point for the trip. Rather appropriately for a big loop ride around Australia, they live in Boomerang Street.

The South Endeavour Trust

Back in the early 2000s Jean introduced me to his friend, Simon Marais, who had established Allan Gray Australia, an investment management firm with links to Orbis. I met Jean after he spear-headed the establishment of the Orbis Sydney office in 2002, Orbis being a specialist global equities management firm. These encounters were part and parcel of my advisory firm’s commitment to investment management research.

Back to Simon, he impressed as an unusually discerning stockpicker with courageous commitment to investing against the sway of the herd. I had the great privilege of getting to know this giant of a human being, giant in both the physical and intellectual sense. A year or two before his tragically early death in February 2015, Simon made mention of a bit of land he’d bought in the Far North of Queensland that had a few cattle on it. It was only following his death that I learned that this was yet another example of Simon’s modesty and tendency towards understatement – the Kings Plains property he was referring to was 68,000 hectares and turned out to be just one of several properties he bought as he created the South Endeavour Trust (www.southendeavour.com.au), a definitive demonstration of his massive commitment to conservation. This web site is well worth studying as a monument to one man’s determination to make a difference.

On the left is the photo that identifies Rockview by showing the cause of its name. But on the right is Rockview itself but it could be anywhere from this shot!!!

We drove past the entrance to the Kings Plains property on our way to Cooktown back in June 2017. Our intention had been to take some footage on a Go Pro we bought for that purpose but alas, our visit was discouraged at that particular time. However, just

recently, as we weaved our way up through northern NSW, we made a point of roaming off along some knarly bush roads to visit Rockveiw and Bezzants Lease. The photos included here are probably of bits of those properties, Rockview being more certain due to the view but neither sporting signage as they, like the other properties, are the preserve of the flora and fauna that made their acquisition important. Above left the sign shows the way. On the right, we reached a point we thought the property may have started ……….. so that might be part of it in the distance. This particular one acts as a bridge between a reserve and a National Park so that endangered species can move across the sum of the parts.  In the photo on the left I am seeking to get past a rather large item of fauna that acted as a security guard for the property – Louise has more to say on this encounter.

The Bikie Boomerangs Return

For our whole trip we were keen to be rural, minimizing time in cities. We made an exception for Adelaide but avoided Melbourne and by-passed Sydney when travelling north to Byron Bay. But Tuesday 13^th February was our last day on the bikes in Australia’s great outdoors, and one that saw us enter Sydney’s north and return to where it all started, in Turramurra.

On the left was us leaving with Mick as our guide out of Sydney. On the right, we’ve just returned, nine months later.

From Jean and Cathy’s we rode the short distance to ProCycles in Hornsby where the purging of fuel and disconnecting of the batteries was certified, the bikes cleaned and then delivered on Wednesday to Jean’s studio for crating up.

Our Big Aussie Trip was over. The total distance travelled was 24,233 on motorbikes plus about 2,000 kms up and down Cape York in the Land Rover. The replacement motorbike I bought in Cairns in July 2017 had 27,530 kms on the clock when we set off west from Cairns. Below shows a reading of 48,663 in Sydney, seven months later.

There will be one last post for this trip – a sort of epilogue-blog. It will share a few unbiased observations about Aussie, the results of the pie survey, a note of ‘favourites’, and maybe other random reflections.

We arrived to our particular property in the beautiful Dandenong Hills on Boxing Day, met Rob and Rosemary who introduced us to their two hounds before heading away. Part of their briefing to us included reference to the fire risk, what siren to be alerted by, which radio station to listen to and where to go in the event of a real ‘fire event’. The shots below were taken a week or so later around Strathewen showing the dead trunks above regenerating bush caused by the fire of 9 February 2009 – see Louise’s blog for more on this.

The house was comfortable, set on ample tree-clad land and the dogs were friendly. One was a ‘rescue’ greyhound geriatric, the other a middle-aged red healer with a torn cruciate ligament that required rest. Alice, the red healer, didn’t know she required rest and was frequently dropping the ball at my feet, only to have the invitation declined, tempting though it was.

We were quite sedentary while there, indulging in a few local rides. We went to lunch at Olinda, a place we had visited many years previously. Emerald, a village about 8 kms away boasted a high quality bakery that necessitated a few visits.

The little off license in Emerald had a modest selection of craft beers but amongst them were Hargreaves Hill beers. The ESB caught my eye then tipped from a glass and sent the palate into raptures. ESB stands for Extra Special Bitter, an English classic whose acronym is often associated with Fullers brewery in Chiswick, London. The benchmark to beat if you like. Which I do and Hargreaves Hill ESB nearly did. In previous blogs I have lamented the lack of decent beer in Australia, with 95% of what Aussies call beer being closer to industrial effluent, cooled, gaseated and pump-primed by marketing gurus to make the stuff sell. Of all the micro-brewery beers I have tried on this lengthy lap, Hargreaves Hill ESB takes line honours.

Not wishing to motorcycle anywhere on New Year’s Eve, we enquired what events were on offer in Cockatoo. The answer was short and sweet. The Cockatoo RSL was hosting the event so that was our pick. However, the prospect of drinking awful beer to see in the New Year bade as badly for the year ahead as it did for my taste buds. I nipped into the RSL in the afternoon – see above photo – and arranged to deposit ample supplies of Hargreaves Hill ESB behind the bar, with a chunk of ‘corkage’ easing the way. We had a great night, meeting all sorts of people and experiencing little competition for the dance floor in spite of the DJ’s inspiring efforts. The mode of transport shown in the photo turned out to be unrepresentative of the age group there on the night. Sadly it wasn’t there when we set off to walk home.

In the other direction from Cockatoo lay Gembrook. This beautiful village seemed popular

 

with the lycra brigade. The Puffing Billy steam train threads its way from Belgrave through Emerald, Cockatoo and pants to a halt in Gembrook, the end of the line. We can recommend The Independent restaurant in Gembrook, having enjoyed a stimulating dinner there on the eve of our departure from the area.

On Monday 8^th January 2018, we patted the dogs good-bye and rode off north to spend a couple of nights with Tom and Tanys, friends we had made at Conto camp site just south of Margaret River back in WA. They live in the hills near Kangaroo Ground, itself near Yarra Glenn and with time on our hands to stop for refreshments, we stopped our bikes

in Yarra Glenn outside what looked like a beautiful old building that functioned as a tea room. You can imagine the joy when, on closer inspection, it was the one and only Hargreaves Hill pub. Bliss. The ESB poster above refers to the Ashes tour underway at the time.

The two days with Tom and Tanys cemented the fledgling friendship. Their rural

property reminded us of our Rocklands former home, except theirs was on a much greater acreage. We walked, we talked, we plotted routes, we ate great food and enjoyed good beer, cider and a reasonable drop of 2012 Yarra Valley Pinot Noir. Our stay did facilitate some treatment of the goats where extra hands may have been useful. But goats are goats, always non-compliant and Louise’s latest blog captures the fun all too well. Above Louise is about to feed them pellets from a bucket.

The Great Ocean Road

Equipped with excellent directions, we left Tom and Tanys on 10^th , circumnavigated Melbourne and rode west to overnight in Colac prior to riding the Great Ocean Road from west to east. Yes, this was back-tracking but the dates of our house-sitting commitments ruled out this bit of Aussie between Penola and Cockatoo when heading east.

Louise’s good research led us to spend the night in the Princetown Reserve camp site for our first night under canvas for several weeks. It was peak holiday season so we wanted to get a tent site established around midday and only then explore the scenic treasures on the western half of the Great Ocean Road. A short distance took us to the 12 Apostles – above right. There is no doubt that this coastline is magnificent. So much so that there is a vast car and coach park inland of the road, with a shiny new building selling tourist essentials such as PEP bottles full of fizz, ice creams and toilets to relieve the masses. A 4 metre wide concrete pathway conveys the incoming tourism tide under the road and over to various look-out points. The human mix was 90% Asian, a bristling mass of ‘selfie sticks’, all looking to demonstrate that they ‘were there’, even if the view of ‘there’ was obliterated by ‘them’. With Tom and Tanys conversations had included reference to quality of life for Aussies and Kiwis as a priority of policy ahead of quantity of GDP growth. Immigration numbers to New Zealand and tourism numbers to both countries were touched upon in the context of a need to start a public debate about having an upper limit. The photo above should serve as a picture of Rotorua, Queenstown, the Coromandal, Bay of Islands, Nelson’s Abel Tasman National Park in the future if no cap on inbound tourism is introduced. Unless New Zealand’s policy settings change from GDP growth to growth within the constraints dictated by qualitative factors for Kiwis and visitors to the country, New Zealand is on a trajectory to achieve the sights above at an increasing number of ‘tourism’ sites – it is only a question of how much time.

We both felt that the beauty of the natural seascape was marred by the crush of tourists, including ourselves, so we limited our stops to London Bridge, above, and the Bay of Islands (the Great Ocean Road one – below).

The next day our plan to continue east was threatened by forecast rain but once packed and loaded, was thwarted by a puncture in Louise’s front tyre. Options were slim and we found ourselves back in Colac for two nights, one required by the puncture, the next persuaded by the foul weather.

On the cloudy morning of 15^th January we rode south from Colac to rejoin the Great Ocean Road near Apollo Bay. The ride south was invigorating and testing. The road surface was variable with some longitudinal furrows in the tarmac that induced a shimmy or two. The rain came and went while the wind blew in blusters and sideways belts. Over big hills, along twisting roads often sheltered from the sun by lines of bush left and right, we took it gently, finally being rewarded by a huge vista of coastline beyond the beautiful landscape.

For a while we roared along the Great Ocean Road, slowing before bends, leaning and accelerating into them, then immediately one the other way. We snatched quick glances at the unfolding seascape but the focus was on riding well. Eventually cars got in the way and then, at the eastern end, we became part of a long procession of vehicles all cramming their way through the towns of Lorne, Anglesea and Torquay, themselves a-throng with pedestrians.

Being keen to avoid Melbourne, we headed for the Queenscliff to Sorento ferry – Louise waiting on the vehicle deck below.

After 352 kms from Colac, we toodled into the Opel Motel in Leongatha. Due to a combination of wet weather and totally full camp sites, we had to make this our base for three nights from which to explore Wilsons Promontory, the southern-most point of Australia.

Wilsons Propomtory

This natural promontory is exclusively The Wilsons Promontory National Park and pokes out from the mainland about 50kms southwards. We rode for an hour or so from Leongatha to Tidal River as far as the road would take us. The beach for the Tidal river camp site is on the left. The helpful people at the camp site looked after our bike gear leaving us suitably clad to go on a walk to Squeeky Beach (below) and on to Picnic Beach. I boldly ventured into the sea to humiliate some waves with a bit of body surfing. The waves had other ideas and with a couple of glorious exceptions, I experienced the front-loading washing machine treatment.

This beautiful bit of land offers high rewards to those prepared to do some multi-day walks with virtually untouched bays and high hills preserved for native fauna and flora to flourish.

Omeo in the Victorian Mountains

Tom and Tanys had suggested we detour from our eastward journey along the coast road and head north to Omeo in the Alpine National Park, part of Australia’s Great Dividing Range.

Just as described to us, the ride up was terrific, big hills, bends, bends and more bends – a superb antidote to the straight roads of the bulk of this odyssey. The map above gives a clue as to the location and terrain.

The Hilltop Hotel offered free camping to the rear, (per photo below) with access to shower and toilet and with no obligation to eat there. We made this our base for three days and ate in the pub every night – excellent value.

Omeo was another gold rush centre, albeit a small one. We did a 6 km walk out to and around the Oriental gold mining site. It was an alluvial mining operation, the sluicing of the clay combining with the diggings to create a wasteland. For environmental reasons it was closed down in the early 1900s after 50 years of continuous production. We re-entered Omeo via the local swimming hole where a cooling dip hit the spot on this mid-thirties day.

Yogi Holten was motorbiking his way back to Sydney from Melbourne, camping at the pub as well. We teamed up with this interesting and entertaining character. He led us on a loop ride, out to Falls Creek (Ski field sans snow above), Mount Beauty, across a hairy link road to the B500 and along to Harrietville, up to Mount Hotham – photo below taken at the Mt Hotham look-out near the summit, Yogi on left. and back to Omeo. On the Saturday (20^th) the three of us shifted camp to a little reserve by a bend in the river at Angler’s Rest – photo below

It was lunch-time so having set up our tents, we rode a kilometer to The Blue Duck pub (below) where a steak and Guinness pie achieved a unique 10 rating. Well fed, we rode back to camp and slipped into the pristine waters of the gentle little river to cool off. That evening it was steak and salad by the river, invigorating conversation and a skyful of stars to bid us all good-night. This is a truly tough lifestyle.

 

 

No Sunday morning lie-in – we were up, packed and off by 9.30 riding to the South East tip of Australia, some 303 kms away along magnificent motorbike riding country. Yogi Bear packed up his honey pots and headed north but not off our radar.

Last Stay in Victoria – Mallacoota

Right down in the SE corner, 23 kms off the Prince’s Highway (A1 coast road around Aussie) lay Mallacoota, a low key Aussie village by a beach and an inlet. The beach was the normal expanse of white sand and blue sea, this one complete with local Surf-Life Savers. The surf was ideal for body-surfing – no washing-machine treatment this time, just zooming in to the beach an seething white surf.

When Tuesday morning came, we headed back up to the coast road to ride up to Eden, crossing the border into New South Wales along the way. That state will have to wait for the next posting.

Louise would have remained faithful to the two-wheeled mode of transport but we had sampled plenty of days of long, straight roads across endless flat expanses of nothingness and four more across the Nullarbor was four too many for me. Additionally, I had fancied the idea of a long train trip for some time.

Thus it was that  our bikes were consigned to lorry transport on 17^th and we boarded the 675 metre long Indian Pacific Train at East Perth station for an all-inclusive choo choo ride across to Adelaide, some 2,669 kms to the east.

 

Unlike a long-distance trip on a passenger jet, there is scenery passing the window.

However, after the first couple of hours of valleys, hills and river views, we crossed a long stretch of the wheat belt with the land flattening out and eventually, becoming desolate in a familiar way.

We stopped at Kalgoorlie for an off-train excursion. Due to a wild storm the previous day, most of the town was in darkness and our trip was confined to a look into the “Superpit”, the largest open cast mine in Australia – also in darkness. The patterns of little lights are the large lorries filling and making their way up and out of the 3.5 kms long, 1.5 wide and 600 metres deep pit. Like the Tom Price mine up in the Pilbara, the numbers were mind-blowing. It took the entire 255 tonnes of dirt in the back of one house-sized lorry, to make a golf-ball-sized lump of gold. The cost of production is high at around US$900 per tonne but with the spot price being relatively stable around US$1200 and the scale of production so vast, there’s a bit of profit being enjoyed.

Early, too early for us, on the second day, the train stopped at Rawlinna where there seemed to be little to suggest there was a place to be named. Apparently, Australia’s largest sheep station abuts the track – a 2.5 million acre farm, 300 blades of grass and 70,000 sheep. Lurking in the dim recesses of my brain is a lecture or two and a BSc (Agriculture) that mumbles something about the maths not adding up too well – for the sheep.

The next stop was at a thriving metropolis named Cook. Both inhabitants exist there to service the train. Initially I thought that, with just one train passing through per week, life in Cook might be a fraction dull. But when I asked a chap driving a ute about the pace of life, or something along those lines, he explained how Cook receives visits from other trains, all bringing supplies for the Indian Pacific. Fuel was one example he volunteered. In case you think the railway line shown above looks straight, it was. In fact, 487 kilometres of dead straight rail track – the longest straight stretch of railway in the world.

At pre-dinner drinks on the second night, we were advised to put our time-pieces forward 2.5 hours due to crossing the border into South Australia during the night. With an early morning arrival in Adelaide the next day, this slight of hand was to crimp our night’s sleep and its announcement, intended to cramp our night’s frivolities in the bar. Eventually, we rumbled into Adelaide, farewelled the wonderful staff that had looked after us and the new friends we had made on the journey. This choo choo treat wetted the appetite for other long rail journeys elsewhere in the world.

Adelaide

On 24 November, after three nights in a central apartment, we moved into a house in Glenelg where we were entrusted with the care and maintenance of a thoroughly independent cat.

A few days later Holly and Hamish arrived and stayed at a nearby motel for 4 days. This marked the end of their 2+ years in Sydney and the beginning of their own major overseas trip.

Photo left, we enjoyed introducing them to the Central markets.

Hamish’s birthday fell right in the middle of their stay. We booked a table at a tapas place

and while the girls were getting fluffed up, I took Hamish on an advance sortie to The Wheatsheaf on George Street, to sample its hand-pulled offerings. A Ferrari garage interrupted our tram trip, but Hamish didn’t seem to mind.

Complete with the girls in the team and replete with good ale, we had a delightful meal, after which, Birthday Boy wished to kick on and find a whisky bar or two.  Louise and Holly headed home while I accompanied Hamish as he sniffed out hidden dungeons a little bit like Baxter’s in Sydney. The photo above right was taken in an attempt to record the beautiful manifestations from the top shelf , and as if to back up the claim that the camera never lies, the shot is slightly blurred. After three bars and three delicious shots, I felt it was time to totter home. A great night and a birthday well celebrated.

Friday came and Holly and Hamish departed to Cairns, Holly via a family do in Canberra, Hamish to complete a work project. On Tuesday 12 December, they flew out of Cairns to SE Asia and the beginning of their ‘Big OE’ – which is their story.

Old school friend Andrew Renaut arrived the following day to celebrate his birthday of the previous day and then join us at the Adelaide Oval for a couple of days of the second Ashes Test. The venue was great giving us excellent views of the action (below left).

The old scoreboard (above right) was magnificent, although it gradually became less so from an English perspective. The Adelaide Test was a day-night experiment, allowing locals to get a day’s work in and still see half the action. For us the delayed start facilitated a visit to the Central Markets for a forage and a lunch – right. On his last day we hired a car to visit a few McLaren Vale wineries, starting at D’Arenberg, going out to Yangarra (superb) see photo below

and finishing at Wirra Wirra (not so good). From there to The Star of Greece for a splendid lunch – any foodies visiting this area should work a lunch here into their itinerary.

Before leaving Adelaide we were due to meet up with friends Polly and Ray but a tummy upset ruled Louise out and cramped my options when I caught up with them for an abbreviated lunch – it was good to at least catch up on each-other’s news.

On Sunday 10^th December we loaded our neglected motorbikes and rode 380 kms south east to Penola in the deep south east of South Australia, close to the state border with Victoria.

Penola Flower Farm – A ‘Workaway’ Stay

About 35 kms along the road from Penola to Robe on the coast, is a 200 hectare farm, part of which is planted with various varieties of native Banksias – see example below

We met the owners, Jessie and Edna in the Penola Bakery and followed them away from signal, away from people and along to their remote farm. They showed us around, providing an insight into this unusual enterprise and then left us at the one-bedroomed cottage which lies totally surrounded by old native bush, about 1 km from their ‘farm’ house (they also have a cottage in Penola with eventual retirement in mind).

Jessie and Edna’s interpretation of the “labour-for-board-and-lodging” exchange struck us as generous – we were required to work for 6 hours on 3 out of 7 days – they provided us with a spacious cottage and funded our groceries.

Our main project was to restore a fenced plot, including the fence itself, with the objective  being to create a predator-proof area in which to experiment with different annual crops, with a small chicken population being rotated to improve soil aeration and nutritional quality.

When it became too hot, we all shifted into the main flower shed to prepare that day’s crop for market. Apart from benefitting from the shade, we learned about Banksias, the flowers, the buds and the nuts, as saleable items. The main market, via a wholesaler, is Japan where other producers in Africa and elsewhere are less able to compete. The idea behind the experiment  into annual crops is to identify a viable diversification to the farm’s main income stream while keeping the manual effort to within the two-person team that is already pushed pretty hard. The photo on the left shows the progress we made relative to the one above it, taken early on in the effort.  We enjoyed the work, the learning opportunity and most of all, the insight into this particularly brave and hard-working couple. Thinking of Africa,  while I was banging in fence posts, Louise spent many hours wrestling a lawnmower over the dry, uneven ground, taking on Kenyan hues as she went – see photo on right of my Kenyan wife.

Meanwhile, back at our cottage, there was wildlife a-plenty, not all of it outside.

 

Having climbed into bed one night and about to read,  I noticed a large Huntsman spider skulking on the map next to me on the bedside table. He didn’t seem to mind being relocated outside as much as I minded him remaining inside.

 

On the deck outside the broad glass frontage of the cottage was a stainless steel water bowl. The arid nature of the area made this water bowl a powerful magnet for  birds which swarmed to the deck to drink and bath, providing us with far better entertainment than any TV could, even one with a signal.

The Crimson Rosellas above were as bountiful as they were beautiful but the list of birds we identified species is: Crimson Rosellas; Little Wattlebird; Silvereye; White-browed Scrub Wren; Superb Fairy Wren; White Fantail; New Holland Honey-eater; Rufous Whistler; Brown Treecreeper; Peaceful Dove; Eastern Yellow Robin; Red-browed Finch; White-eared Honey-eater; White-naped Honey-eater; Yellow-faced Honey-eater; Grey Carawong; White-throated Treecreeper; Horfield’s Bronze Cuckoo; Brown Thornbill; Common Bronzewing.

Coonawarra Wine Region

Penola is right on the southern edge of the Coonawarra wine region, a persuasive proximity.

On Saturday 16^th our visits were: Bellweather Wines; Redman Wines; Wynns – see photo of iconic main building below

Zema; and lastly, Balnaves. Of these, our pick was Zema, the quality of its Shiraz and Cabernet  Sauvignon was grander than the price suggested.

Being gluttons for punishment, we returned the next day:

Rymill; Bowan; and lastly, Leconfield. Louise particularly rated Bowen and although wowed by its wines, my pick from the whole lot was still Zema which also had the good grace to offer a ‘Museum Wine list, as above right.

 

We found the Coonawarra Shiraz quite striking. There was an almost  sweet backdrop to the flavours arrayed on the pallet. The answer lay beneath our feet in the famous Terra Rossa soils – per the photo of a soil profile to the left.

Quoting the region’s promotional material:

Almost a million years ago, an ocean teeming with sea-life lapped at the feet of the ancient Kanawinka Escarpment.  Then came an ice age, and the great melt that followed led to the creation of the chalky white bedrock which is the foundation of this unique region.  But nature had not finished, for with her winds, rain and sand she blanketed the plain with a soil rich in iron, silica and nutrients, to become one of the most renowned terroir soils in the world.

Most of the wineries we visited or passed had prominent Santas, each demonstrating a particular recreational activity. This ‘theme’ seemed to have been agreed as a local promotion. Louise included a few in her Christmas post. The one above right was outside a farm on the road from Penola back to the flower farm. This one is fishing.

All too soon,  our time with Jessie and Edna came to an end and on Christmas Day, we took one last glance at the aviary-like theatre and rode off east 340 kms to check into the Mid City Hotel in Ballarat before 12 noon when a ‘Special Christmas Day’ lunch awaited us.

Bye-bye South Australia – Hello Victoria

Early on our journey to Ballarat we crossed the border into Victoria and having been asleep on a train when we crossed from WA into South Australia, I’ve included both border crossing signs below, to be sure that you understand where we’ve been.

Our next destination was really Cockatoo in the Dandenong Hills east of Melbourne where we were due at a ‘house/dog sit’ on 26^th. We didn’t want to spend too much of our Christmas Day on the bikes, hence the overnight stay in Ballarat. And what a treat it was too. The Mid City Hotel is a little tired in terms of décor but the management and catering staff pushed the boat out with their Christmas Lunch Special with a fixed, all inclusive price. The food was exquisite and the wines selected to compliment it were interesting, appropriate and in most cases, sumptuous. A Skype call with family slotted into the middle of our lunch which added to the sense of occasion and allowed us to feel less like distant vagrants.

Finally for this blog, we breakfasted well on Boxing Day, mounted our trusty steeds, and set off on a meandering Melbourne-free ride to Cockatoo. More on this later.

 

With our doggy charges well fed and walked, we departed the Armadale house sit on Sunday 5 November and rode east to Hyden, three plus hours through eucalypt forest which gave way to the ‘Wheat Belt’.

Wave Rock was the attraction at Hyden. the photo on the right captures not only Wave Rock, but Louise surfing on it.

As the expression goes, ‘Mad dogs and Englishmen go forth in the mid-day sun’. So having looked at Wave Rock and clambered over the great, granite humps behind it, we set off at noon to do the 5km loop walk across the ‘salt-killed’ shallow basin around to Magic Lake and then back. To say the flies are keen in this part of the world would be a massive understatement. We spotted a solitary flycatcher. He was neither fat nor subject to competition from mates, yet his food source seemed abundant. Too laid back perhaps?

The clearing of the  original native vegetation for wheat farming has proved short sighted. Relative to what was cleared, cereal crops consume little water and all of that from the surface layer of soil. The lack of water drawn from greater depths by deep rooted plants with greater transpiration rates than wheat, caused the water table to gradually rise. The naturally occurring salt in rain accumulated in the soil with the result that 11% of the land previously in wheat is now too saline for this crop – or any other crop. If no intervention is made, this figure will rise to 30%. Magic Lake was fringed by salt deposits and the other low-lying areas, and as per photo above, are desolate due to the exaggerated salt content. We wish the regional farmers well who are striving to reverse the salt affliction of their own making. Subsequently we crossed the wheat belt on the Perth to Adelaide train, spotting many large low-lying areas where plant life was prohibited by the saline soil. A wave of my wand would see deep wind-powered water bores, solar-powered desalination of that water, then irrigation of it over the salt pans. After a few years, replanting may prove worthwhile followed by a few decades of continued ‘cleansing of the aquafers’ and continued irrigation. Eventually, the dead 11% would be returned to deep-rooted native trees and bush that would prevent the ruination by salinisation from spreading. Easy really.

We also visited Mulkas Caves about 19 kilometres away.   The Aboriginal art in the cave was virtually all ‘hands’ with most difficult to discern. We did a marked walk in the area accompanied by squadrons of Aussie flies. The photo on the right shows some hot fashion, complete with a head net.

Along the path through the bush we saw our first live snake close up. This 20 centimetre monster slithered off into a tuft of grass before we could get too excited.

Two nights would have been ample at the Wave Rock camp site but alas, we had to stay on for Tuesday 7^th November in order to respect our annual ritual of watching the Melbourne Cup with a bet on and bubbly in hand. This event was to screen at noon WA-time and our next stop, Esperance, was too far to allow us to be set up for the great race there. With no access to betting facilities, Lynley kindly placed our bets back in Christchurch and at the Hyden pub, bubbly in hand, we watched Louise’s horse win the race. The resultant surge in our financial fortunes will not change us or our lives. It was two bucks each way!

Esperance and Albany

The next day we rode down to Esperance,      had a brief look around, sampled a pie (rated a 5) and departed west. Due to an unsealed road to the intended bush camp being corrugated and covered in something akin to red ball-bearings, we ended up pitching the tent at a road house just short of Ravensthorpe, Esperance itself looked uninspiring but its beaches were sun-drenched white sand and turquoise waters – as above.

At the road house, our little tent was only a few metres from huge road trains which shuddered, roared and belched exhaust fumes at us as the drivers shared the joy of early morning with us. This unceremonial early start sent us riding west to the unexpected jewel that was Albany. The topography of the area lent it beauty, with King George Sound, the natural harbour, being immense. The town retained great historic charm and acted as the nucleus for numerous nearby attractions. Such as The Gap, the Natural Bridge, the ANZAC Museum and The Whaling Station.

Before describing our more interesting experiences in Albany, take a look at the shot taken from the inside of my motorbike helmet. The insect life in this south west region was prolific with cabbage white butterflies being most obvious, unlike the  cabbages that are supposed to attract them. Yet many Harley riders go for the open-faced matt-black helmets – tells you something about Harley riders.

The ANZAC Museum.

I had been unaware that the ANZAC troops that went to join the World War One effort, were all gathered in Albany upon an armada of naval and conscripted civilian ships, all moored in King George Sound.

By late September 2014, following the declaration of War by Britain, 6,000 Australians and 7,000 New Zealanders had volunteered and were ready for  the departure on the first convoy that left on 1 November 1914 – a surprising imbalance. However, the final number of departing troops was recorded as below left, in a moving infinity pool where, under the shallow water, the list of troops progressed outwards towards the horizon.

This impressively imaginative memorial was bracketed by wall signs, one above right noting the total number of troops that left Albany bound for the 1^st World War.

On the other wall, the sign simply noted that “30,000 fighting men representing Australasia are under way for the great war.”

Although a little hazy, you might discern the great vantage point (below left) offered from Mount Adelaide, where gun emplacements were built.

Then imagine the sight of the armada – right – waiting out there at anchor for the off.

 On the walk up, signs list all of the ships that departed in the 2 convoys with the one on the left listing three of the New Zealand ships.

Any Aussie or Kiwis that find themselves in the south of WA, should visit this inspiring museum. One day we spent a couple of hours in the morning, took a breather for lunch, then an hour or two in the afternoon. The skill of the curators of this near new museum (opened on 1 November 2014 by the Prime Ministers of Australia and New Zealand) was immense,  combining modern technology with imagination to create an experience that was as involving as it was absorbing. For a better insight, go to http://www.nationalanzaccentre.com.au. The other visitors we spoke to all found it intense, exhausting and rewarding.

As part of the same Albany Heritage National Park, on the neighbouring peak of Mount Clarence, was the Monument to the members of the Australian Light Horse, the New Zealand Mounted Rifles, the Imperial Camel Corps and the Australian Flying Corps who lost their lives between 1916 and 1918 – see photos below.

 

 The day was a moving mix of enthralling education, inspired interactive displays, real views over King George Sound imagining the sight of the ships awaiting departure and lastly, the magnificent memorial to the horse-born troops, seen only a few weeks after the 100^th anniversary of the against-the-odds victory in Palestine.

Afterwards we enjoyed a soothing drink in the ANZAC Museum café, mine was a rather good Bitter that bore good friend Wilf’s name, made at the local Wilson’s brewery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Albany Whaling Museum

I was surprised that commercial whaling only ceased in Australia in 1978, just eight years before I arrived permanently in New Zealand.   The cause was little to do with dwindling numbers of whales or increasing public concern, but all to do with the mid-seventies hike in oil prices, with oil being a major cost to the processing of whales to produce whale oil.

It was a gruesome experience, made more ‘personal’ by the joyful antics of the Hump Back whales we had witnessed along the WA coast.

Going Green

The tourism blurb on the Walpole and Pemberton region was a bit of a glossy pitch, particularly where Manjimup was concerned. Its central to northern location and “foodie-centre” description encouraged us to make that our four-day base.

The weather was foul on Monday 13 November so day one was spent in the Manjimup Public Library catching up on e-mails. Mick Ryan from Sydney shared the evening with us as part of his lengthy motorbike return trip having zipped across to Perth to attend the Black Swan Exhibition function for the artist submitters, his wife Sally having an entry in this prestigious competition.

Tuesday we rode down to Walpole to experience the 45 metre high walk through the tops of the giant Tingle Trees.

Here’s a Tingle Tree below

And here’s how some are at the base.

 

Wednesday saw us ride to Pemberton to enjoy a train ride through forest.

No, unfortunately not that one ……………… but the one below

At one point we were confronted by bandits on the line.

You may be able to expand the photo and see a couple of Kangaroos on the line. The largest of the two roos approached the tram shaping to kick it in the head, only to hop off into the trees at the last moment.

   Then we visited the Gloucester Tree, one of a handful of ‘look-out’ trees. These are particularly tall Karri Trees that are on forested high ground. Metre long pegs have been banged into them, forming a near vertical spiral ladder allowing observers to scan the surrounding district for bush fires and sound the alarm. Now they serve as tourist attractions, allowing folk to climb up to the top and

onto the viewing platform to gaze 360 degrees around over 10 to 30 kilometres of forest. Above are two of the views I enjoyed from the platform 53 metres up the Gloucester   Tree. On the right is a much smaller example of a Karri tree. For Kiwis reading this, there is no relationship between Karri and Kauri, the former being members of the Eucalypt family.

The next day we were up early and riding up through Bridgetown, where we should have stayed instead of Manjimup, and on up to Perth for our final three nights before heading east on the Indian Pacific Train. The Arundel Boutique B&B and Apartments in Fremantle was superb, being a short walk to the Markets, the Sail and Anchor, the Norfolk Arms and other local assets.

Our last night was at Batavia Apartments, on the corner of Palmerston and Bulwer Streets – highly recommended for a central Perth stay offering terrific value plus Le Papillon café across the road with arguably the best French baking in Perth.

The speedo reading on my bike, just before it left Perth and WA on a transporter, is shown below. It reads 41,506 kilometres, demonstrating we had notched up 3,407 kilometres exploring WA south and SW of Perth.

The next posting will describe what we hope will be a fabulous choo choo experience, chugging across the famous Nullarbor Plains that are a major portion of the land mass between Kalgoorlie and Adelaide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve travelled 4,308 kms since leaving Darwin, 8,569 since leaving Cairns and 11,669 since beginning this trip in Sydney in mid-May. As we point south at Exmouth, we’re roughly half way along our journey around Australia.

On 27 September we packed up our nomadic assets and commenced the ride south down the WA coast towards Perth, about 1,200kms away. We had booked the bikes in for a 10,000 km service at the BMW dealership there, ahead of a house sit in Gelorup two hours south of Perth starting on 14 October.

Coral Bay

A few people we met on the road had raved about Coral Bay – not somewhere that had been on our radar. However, school holidays in WA meant there was a mass movement of families north from Perth.

We nabbed the last available tent site at the “Peoples Camp”.  I had a long wander round while Louise had a rare afternoon sleep. Not really captured on the photo, left, the place was heaving and after our time on the ‘turtle beach’, the crush of humans in Coral Bay was off-putting, repellent even. But the little shopping centre boasted a good bakery where I sampled an excellent beef and mushroom pie. When ‘Er indoors’ emerged we walked to the beach with a swim in mind. However, the cool, strong wind and the undeterred families swarming everywhere persuaded us that a brief paddle was enough

It was an easy decision to make Coral Bay a one night stand. Had it just been the bakery and camp site staff, Coral Bay would have been exquisite, such was its natural beauty.

Quobba Station

It was another example of ‘go in for one night, stay for three’. This in spite of a strong southerly wind. This rocky bit of coastline possessed a natural beauty that encouraged long walks but any notion of swimming was muted by the howling southerly. If this weren’t enough, the waves crashing onto razor-sharp rocks completed the job of keeping us out of the sea.

A dad and his 3 lovely kids were having some escape time. We shared a dune-top observation of humpback whales partying not far offshore. This was to be a common sight on this coastline. They kindly included us in their trip 60 kms up the rough road to Red Bluffs. Here was another camp site, still on the same farm, but in this instance, behind a magnificent beach, below left, resplendent with crashing waves, sunshine (of

course) and somewhat sheltered from the wind. Swimming, body-surfing and sand-castle construction were followed by ice creams from the low key surfie shack. Oh joy. There was even a posh camping option – glamping – for those with a low ‘hardship threshold’ (photo above right).

Hamelin Station

A modest two-plus hour ride south saw us set up camp at Hamelin Station, as recommended by an Exmouth neighbour.

This station is the latest acquisition of Bush Heritage Australia and adds 200,000 hectares to the neighbouring Shark Bay World Heritage Area.

We inspected Stromatolites on the edge of the Hamelin Pool, a vast shallow extension south off Shark Bay. This unique environment is one of only two places on Earth where marine stromatolites can be found. So what are they?

Thousands of microbial species form communities that work together, using different elements and making different ‘products’. Cyanobacteria are a key inclusion – these absorb sunlight and produce oxygen and carbon, as they have for over 3.5 billion years as the planet’s oldest known life form. Particles suspended in the doubly saline sea water become entangled in the microscopic web and mats are formed.

Certain conditions cause layers of these mats to build up and stromatolites grow in this way – as a multi-layered mat of interdependent microbial communities. Those we saw, shown in the photo above, were about 0.5 metres tall but they can be found reaching a metre in height. They were between 2,000 and 3,000 years old. It makes the 1,000 year old Boab Tree we saw in El Questro seem like a spring chicken.

Kalbarri

A few hours south from Hamelin Station was Kalbarri National Park. We checked into a camp site in Kalbarri township for a couple of nights which were extended to five. We had received reports from our fellow bikies who were well ahead of us in southern WA. They told of severe winds, rain and cold. As we did not need to hit Perth until 11^th, we decided to put the brakes on our descent down the WA coast.

A day trip to Geraldton was necessary to sort a few errands.  The visor on my helmet had cracked inexplicably – the temporary fix was fragile –   see photo right. HJC, the manufacturer, kindly couriered a replacement visor to a dealer in Geraldton under warranty. Great brand support and service – thank you HJC. Our inflatable mattress, crafted in China, had sprung a leak which saw us getting up in the small hours to puff it up. Not fun in the cold night hours ………. which challenged our summer clothing and bedding to the point that a thick blanket was required to augment the new mattress and encourage more profound sleeps.

We had a few jaunts through the Kalbarri National Park, viewing the untamed coastline

and walking in the Murchison River gorge ………….  where we looked through Nature’s Window

at a section of the meandering Murchison River gorge.

Nearer Kalbarri itself, we couldn’t resist riding onto smooth, flattish rocks at one end of a beautiful bay, right by the breaking waves.

Last Stop Before Perth – Gingin

To get my bike to BMW Perth mid-morning on 10 October we picked Gingin, 80 kms north of Perth, as a stopping off spot so booked into the Gingin pub. Riding the 4 hours down there on Sunday 8^th gave us the forecast sunny day of 9^th to have a look at the mouth of Moore River.

Sunshine, a beach an ice cream –  what more can one ask for? Well, two gin and tonics back in the Gingin pub seemed like a good answer.

After two nights in a proper bed we made the short, final dash to Perth where an apartment awaited us. My speedo read 38,099 kms. 

 

Anecdotes, Derivatives and Things That Go Wrong

At This point, 13,669 kms and a little over halfway around Australia, we’ll take a break from the ‘travelogue’ for a few anecdotes:

The Camp Site Mix

Going up the east coast the mix of fellow campers was mostly grey nomads escaping the cold winter weather in Victoria and neighbouring states. Few foreign van-clad backpackers. From our random encounters it seemed to be quite an egalitarian Aussie mix. Retired farmers, semi-retired business owners and retired trades people all relishing the outdoor way of life. Across the Top End the mix morphed into more intrepid Aussie outback travellers with rugged 4×4 truck and trailer outfits, plus younger European folk in varied machines determined to see the raw country up north. Once in Exmouth the mix was skewed back towards urban escapees from Perth, getting 1,200 kms and 20 degrees c further north.

Derivatives

I was familiar with ‘derivatives’ in the investment management business where they may be used to insulate an investment position or portfolio against an unfavourable market movement. A common example being ‘shorts’ which gets us deftly back to the beach and a new-to-me revelation of a linguistic derivative of a derivative. Previously we’ve noted a common colloquialism for ‘hello’ sounding like “Hairgamma” which derives from “how are you going mate?” spoken quickly with minimal mouth movement. On an evening beach walk at Kalbarri, I was greeted by a chap fishing with “Gaaaarn”. For this man, even the effort to enunciate “Hairgamma” was way too much – it was all he could do to create the middle sound of “Gaaarn”. I thought this merited a “Toodlepip” in exchange. Both of us gained a word.

Temperature Fluctuations

Travelling on motorbikes with our canvas house provides plenty of familiarity with the diurnal rhythms of the different Aussie states and sub-regions. For example, in the Northern Territory the days were hot, around mid-thirties but the nights dropped below the twenties. By Broome the daytime temperature was nudging 40 while the night hours remained ambient. But by Exmouth, the nights were getting cold. At first, we were deceived by the late afternoon warmth, only to find ourselves digging out extra clothes in the small hours. As we moved south, both day and night temperatures dropped, highlighting a modest flaw in our planning. “It will be hot as we travel across the Top End in the winter months and then in the summer months when we travel east across the south, it will be bloody hot.” But the descent down the WA coastline in the spring months was not factored in. Our thin, hot weather sleeping bags proved inadequate for this latest section of the trip.

Things That Go Wrong

When looking ahead to a nine month,  20,0000 kilometre motorbike oddessey, we were confident there would be things that went wrong. But what might go wrong? Now, more than half way round, what has gone wrong?

1. As described in an early blog, in Sydney, Quarrantine Man Meets Snail. Snail loses its life, We lose over A$1,000 and 10 days;
2. Frustration riding north out of Brisbane as the American lady giving google map directions kept sending us into cul-de-sacs and along pedestrian paths. But then the app was set to the travel mode of “walking”!!! Little hop up the luddite’s learning curve;
3. The 1^st night under canvas. Modern lightweight, thin, roll-up inflatable mattresses. In the morning I felt as though I had been super-glued to the ground when I tried to move. Two hours later we had a proper inflatable mattress;
4. When in Cairns, my dearest old friend in New Zealand, Judy, died on 8 June;
5. Leaving Cairns in the rain. Diesel spill on a hairpin bend. Wobble. Slide. Crash. My bike written off. But not me. Shannons Insurance were great, if slow. Bought replacement bike. Very lucky;
6. While sorting bike claim in Cairns, Special Uncle died in England. Quick trip back to attend funeral with family;
7. Cairns again, Louise’s newish Telstra-aligned smart phone died. Telstra’s abysmally low service standards and general ineptitude turn an iconic Aussie brand into a loathsome ogre, that has to be revisited and revisited;
8. Louise’s spills on the Gumlon Falls track bent her moulded plastic panniers. We refashioned them. But thereafter were limited to smooth-ish unsealed roads unless we shed all our luggage;
9. The aluminium screw caps on our aluminium reserve tanks seized on. A day in Darwin, pillar-to-post, completed fix using irrigation fittings with big bonus of meeting John Gibson;
10. Yet to happen.

Anecdotes shared and with bikes fully serviced, we headed south out of Perth to take up a one week house sit in Gelorup on 13 October.

Gelorup House Sit and Befriending Alby

We got down there early enough for a quick reccie of Bunbury.  Had a quick, over-priced lunch at the Mash Brewery to sample its beers. Then arrived in time at our house sit to be shown the ropes by Caroline and Ashley before they headed off for a week’s break.

Their dog Alby and I bonded quite quickly. As per the photo above, a playful ball

of muscular exuberance…… seemed to be popular with Alby the Staffordshire!

Jean and Cathy came across from Sydney to spend five days with us. It was great to see them and share some uncomplicated chill-out time – something they each needed. The weather permitted a beach walk before deteriorating for most of their stay. However, being just north of Margaret River, there was plenty to entertain us. We visited Vasse Felix, Leeuwin Estate and Burch Family Wines where Howard Park and Madfish are the two brands. Howard Park scored impressive analogies, points and indeed awards from this panel of enthusiasts.

We also visited one of the many cave sites in the region.

Above, the intrepid underground explorers, below left, a true representation of the caves without light, and on the right, an illuminated view:

The stalagmites and stalactites could have been made of church candle wax – but they weren’t.

The South West Corner of Australia

Having farewelled Alby we rode south and found Conto Camp Site on the Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park coast south of Margaret River. This was an exceptionally good bush camp, had there been any scorching sunshine, we would have been able to enjoy the shade of the grove of Peppermint Trees.

Conto Beach was a beautiful sandy cove which, in better weather, would have been great for a swim – below. 

A   short 50 km ride south lay Augusta at the very south west corner of Australia. Just beyond, at the very tip, was Cape Leeuwin with its impressive lighthouse built in 1895.

 

 

 

 

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At this corner of this mighty island, the Indian Ocean meets the Southern Ocean. At the time of our visit, there was no evidence of two strangers tussling but tussle they do as the sign below suggests.

Turning back from the lighthouse and facing inland, the shot below shows the two oceans nearly meeting but being denied by the spit of land that is the Cape itself.

In Augusta we enjoyed a good fish and chip lunch before visiting the museum about which I had read impressive reviews. As expected it offered informative exhibits that helped illustrate the settlement of that part of Australia, back in the early 1800s. Not Britain’s finest hour. Many of the folk who were conned into migrating from tough challenges of their homeland, found themselves in a vastly more harsh environment, which sorted the hardy from the rest with only the former surviving and very few thriving.

Meanwhile back at Conto Camp, the locals were showing what Western Australians do best, just lying back and taking things easy.

 

 

But we also met a delightful couple from Victoria, Tom and Tannis. They were relishing the freedom of 6 weeks away from it all with remote, bush camps being their preference. Many happy yarns were had around their camp fire. We look forward to meeting up again when in Victoria.

On 25 October, after leaving Conto and most of the way back up to Perth, my bike’s engine tried to stop while I was overtaking a lorry with a car right up my chuff.

Fortunately, its own momentum fired it up again but not for long as the photo above shows.

Once based in an Armadale house sit, the bike returned to Auto Classic, the Perth BMW dealership, where it was due to receive a replacement rear light. They found that an electronic sensor had got gummed up. $600 later my red machine was purring again.

The next blog will tell of our final WA excursion on Sunday 5 November when we head to the deep south and explore as far as Esperance before returning to Perth on 16^th in preparation for a magnificent choo choo ride to Adelaide.

Louise had had swimming with whale sharks on her bucket list for a long time. But the huge, gentle creatures are seasonal visitors that usually leave the waters around the Ningaloo Reef near Exmouth, in late July or early August. The 5 week delay in Cairns had made this a casualty in that we would only get here in mid-September at best. But lady luck dealt us a generous hand – they had left but a week or so before we reached Exmouth, they had returned.

We consulted the Visitor Centre on the Thursday afternoon we arrived and booked to go out on Saturday afternoon with Exmouth Dive Centre. At the point of sale, it had been made clear that there were Whale Sharks in the area that day but there were no guarantees that we would get to swim with one.

The photo above right is on board with Danielle giving us the pre-swim. talk. The spotter planes had confirmed multiple sightings and soon we were ready to get up close and personal with these goliaths of the ocean.

During the first swim with one I was attempting to swim alongside and take photos. I succeeded at neither. These shots were taken by Sara, the Italian photographer lass.

Left is a shot of my thumb in the vicinity of a Whale Shark on my second swim. This graceful fish, and yes, Whale Sharks are fish, was a female moving slowly through the water just below the surface, probably warming up after or before some serious plankton harvesting at cooler depths. At one point I was swimming about 3 metres to her left with no others humans in sight – an unforgettable experience.

Exmouth – Ningaloo Marine Park

We rode around the top of the peninsula from Exmouth, through the Cape Range National Park which is a World Heritage Site, and south far enough to reach an unmarked turn-off to the beach that had been described to us. After 200 metres we parked our bikes behind the dunes and walked through to the beach upon which the calm waters of the Ningaloo Marine Park were gently lapping. To anyone watching, it may have seemed as though Mr and Mrs Stig had come to the beach.

Apart from a few kite surfers, the place was deserted. That is, except for turtles.

It was the breeding season and turtles were mating in the waters right there as they might have been doing for hundreds of years. Speaking of duration, the male mounts the female and hangs on for 2 to 3 hours in a challenging and amorous aquatic bonk. His limbs didn’t seem entirely suited to this endeavour and we saw a few capsizes and premature partings. The sheer effort proved exhausting and the chap below was apparently washed up on the beach. On closer inspection, he was simply buggered from his nuptials and raised his head periodically to draw breath. In a few months, the females were due to climb up the beach and lay their eggs.

We felt privileged to have been able to visit this pristine site and witness such a beautiful haven of wild life.

With these lines I finally get up to date with these blogs – tomorrow morning, 27 September, we ride south from Exmouth to Coral Bay.

 

Above you may be able to read the mileage on my speedo on the morning we left Darwin – it says 31,791 kms.

From Darwin we travelled nearly 500kms to a bush camp just short of Victoria River Road House. Our two nearest neighbours were gold diggers en route to different destinations where each harboured hopes for The Big Nugget.

Early up on 7 September and we crossed into Western Australia, a land mass approximately  seven times the size of France.

Not far beyond lay Kununurra, our destination for one night. Someone had described it to us as an attractive little town but we were left pondering what sort of crumby conurbation they had for a benchmark. We sampled supermarket, liquor store, café and motel – yes, a night off from the tent – and have no complaints. Perhaps the town’s value lay not in the quality of its buildings but in its location as the gateway to the Kimberley.

El Questro

On 8 September we rode happily out to enjoy a 3 night stay at El Questro.

By prior arrangement, our panniers, top-boxes and strapped-on luggage was collected from the Kununurra Information centre, thereby allowing us to ride unencumbered the 103 kms to El Questro, not far down the east end of the notorious Gibb River Road. The road was sealed all the way to the turn off into El Questro but we wanted to be much less top heavy and nimble as we tackled the 16 kms of unsealed road in, which included a couple of river crossings. You may recall that we struggled with, and Louise had a couple of spills on, the unsealed road to Gumlon Falls, causing us to abort the visit. Thus it was with a modicum of intrepidation we entered this enormous station, renown globally for its wilderness status and wealth of natural assets.

The road was great, not rutted or corrugated and we found 50 kms per hour a comfortably cautious speed. Until we got to the first river crossing. I walked it to gauge “bottom and depth” and then had a go in first gear. The water was about 0.3 metres deep but with the back wheel driving, the bike carved its way across with my legs dangling like a tight-rope walker’s arms. I got quite a buzz from it. Louise had a go but too cautiously, which invited problems, such as the temptation to stop and think about it ………. so we both walked her bike across. Just before reaching the El Questro station and camp site, we had to cross the Pentecost River. This crossing was a bit longer and at one end, a fraction deeper. This time I crossed grinning and whooping like an ape – marvellous fun. Louise wasn’t tempted so I took her bike across as well. But her time was approaching fast.

Having struck camp (below), we contemplated which of the various thermal pools, gorges and other natural attractions we would tangle with. Virtually all of them required us to go back out along part of the same entrance road, significantly, the part that lay beyond both water crossings. Louise needed no second invitation and across she went without even a wobble. There’s no photo as, by prior agreement, I was standing in the water ready to help!

On Saturday we set off to walk and climb the El Questro Gorge, both tackling the two water crossings along the way. However, the track off the main drive that led to the Gorge soon became soft sand and both of us struggled with this – see photo on left. We knew that weight as far back as possible (off the front wheel) and a bit of speed was required but neither of us were up to this with unfaded memories of the Gumlon Fall track rushing back, particularly for Louise. We left the bikes at the side of the track (photo above) and walked the couple of kms to the beginning of the walk proper.

This walk was described as 5 on a scale of 1 to 5, 1 being the easiest. Initially it was a track to be followed over stones under a palm tree canopy but as we progressed, the sides of the gorge grew higher and drew closer. The halfway point is defined as the 1^st decent pool with access beyond being an energetic and nimble climb up through a 3-metre-high crevice, starting from a depth of about 1.5 metres below water level! No worries.

The next challenge was a boulder stairway – same result. On to the last biggee which was a climb up the side of a 5-meter waterfall.

We were struck by the differing approaches age brings. We were all caution, thinking of the implications of a slip and fall, plus the more difficult descent with legs leading the way. But 25-year-olds, as we once were, nipped up with barely a backward or downward glance.

The reward for all this excursion was not far beyond. The entrance to the final chasm and waterfall-fed pool, had a smaller pool as its vestibule with a frond lined jumping-in rock. Per the photos below, ladies second in this case!

This was enough reward in itself – we both savoured the cool, clear water after the sweaty climbing – Louise shown below. But then we clambered a little further to a longer, deeper pool with a visible rock at the far end where the waterfall landed…………. doubling as a diving platform. All was shade due to the 100+ metre high gorge walls barely 4 metres apart.

The walk was 9 kms long and left us feeling contentedly buggered and beer-worthy.

The Sunday deserved a more leisurely style so we tackled the first two thirds (3.2 kms round trip) of the Champagne Springs walk, far enough the inspect a 1,000 year old Boab Tree. What a different world existed when it was a seedling.

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This tree was massive in girth, about 17 to 18 metres in circumference but not so much so in height. Above left, Louise poses to indicate relative size.  It was quite irregular in shape, being bulbous overall but with odd-looking protrusions, the one above right being like a mouth but hopefully not like one that Sam encounters professionally.

I really don’t like snakes but this does not explain why there are no photos of any here. We simply haven’t seen any, despite others here doing so exactly where we have been or were going.

El Questro was a veritable oasis teeming with bird life, with many of the usual suspects singing to us in the early morning – 5 am when we were in that part of WA.

We have been impressed by the various Aussie camping set-ups. The photo below

shows a rugged caravan that is capable of river crossings and in shot, acting as restaurant and TV room in one. Many had satellite TV allowing the owners to keep up with the footie, the TV screen being the bright rectangle towards the right.

On Sunday, our last night, we shunned the camp kitchen and our own catering skills, instead treating ourselves to a meal in the restaurant. Fortunately, the dress code was ‘bush’.

Anyone heading into this part of Australia should visit this place: www.elquestro.com.au

Lake Argyle

From El Questro we back-tracked past Kununurra to Lake Argyle for one night. The camp site was high on a bluff looking SW over the lake that bore similarities with the Marlborough Sounds. But better still, it offered an infinity pool to capture the mood.

In the 1970s the lake was formed by a A$300 mil dam that has been upgraded over time with hydro-power generation and other complimentary structures in the region to

facilitate irrigation to over 10,000 hectares of horticultural land that would otherwise by bone dry for more than half the year.

The Bungle Bungles

On 12 September we left Lake Argyle early and returned to Kununurra, topped up our supplies and ventured on to and down the Great Northern Highway to Turkey Creek Roadhouse.

The next morning we rode 50 kms down to Mabel Downs Station Caravan Park for our guided tour of the Bungle Bungles, a natural ‘outcrop’ of extraordinary-looking rocks that were only revealed to the world in the 1980s. In 1987 they inspired the formation of the Purnululu National Park and have been accredited with World Heritage Site status.

Our driver and guide was no less that “Bushy” in the photo below.

You may have encountered the hardy breed before. Initially I suspected Bushy eats gravel with sump oil for breakfast. He whirled the 4×4 30 seater ‘go anywhere’ bus along the track and after 1.5 hours turfed us all out at the southern end of the Bungle Bungles to walk a couple of kms to Piccininni Creek Lookout. The walk took us over the dry creek bed that reminded me of the South Island’s braided rivers – except that this creeks river bed was solid sandstone as shown in the right hand photo.

The Piccininni Look-out revealed a classic Bungle Bungle landscape – as shown below.

From there we walked to Cathedral Gorge, past or rather through a clearly visible fault line that moved 70 metres in one hit when it last bothered. A close look at the photo will show a clear vertical ‘cut’ which is mirrored diagonally across the gorge.

And on to the “Cathedral” itself. The photo below, like most, cannot do this place justice. What a venue for an opera – in the dry season. You can make out where the water drops in – it’s the black tongue to the left of picture

By the time we wandered back to the bus, we had walked 5 kms and Bushy had laid out a simple but healthy lunch. His own take on a ham & salad wrap was to take a couple of slices of ham instead of the wrap, then fill it with more ham. The green stuff didn’t tempt him.

From there we motored 30 minutes to the north end of the Bungle Bungle range where we were encouraged to walk into the Echidna Chasm.

This walk took us out of the 40-degree heat into Echidna Chasm where the walls were over 100 metres high and for most of it, were barely 2 metres apart. The temperature was refreshingly cooler. Bushy then whizzed us back to camp by 4.30 allowing Louise and I to forgo the BBQ and ride the 50 kms back up to Turkey Creek before dusk which arrived around 5.15. This had us on full alert as we were approaching sundown when the roos like to bound across the road and wild cattle wander onto it and glare at oncoming traffic. An example of this hazard is shown below.

It was a great excursion with such a unique set of landscapes. As we farewelled Bushy I was inclined to modify my earlier view of him, concluding that his morning meal of gravel and sump oil may just have a teaspoon of honey in it.

The following morning we set off south and then west along the Great Northern Highway, enjoying an overnight bush camp 100 kms beyond Fitzroy Crossing which some people we met at Lake Argyle tipped us off to. Finally, on 15 September, we rode the remaining 290 kms to Broome, leaving the Kimberleys behind us.

The Journey to the End of The Top End

Our particular corner of the Roebuck Bay camp site in Broome was a bit tatty but the beach was beautiful and the salties absent. We had bumped into a couple of fellow bikies in the Information centre. Lance and Dave were both from Oregon, USA and had rented a Suzuki V-Strom each from Brisbane and were doing an anti-clockwise ‘lap’ of Aussie, but in a much shorter time than ourselves.

My observations of Broome are modest as most of the day we spent there was in the library, accessing the free wi-fi and trying to make progress with this web site. The little we did see was of a newish town selling pearls and catering to the standard cruise ship bunch, the over fed, newlywed and nearly dead brigade, waddling around like rotund pink beacons seeking something to amuse them on their daily ration of shore time. I asked Louise to shoot me if ever I showed an interest in a cruise.

On 17 September we left Broome and rode …………

……. Into The Pilbara

stopping at Sandfire Roadhouse where we met Kiwi Rob. That afternoon,  the Americans and 3 Kiwis all camped at the beach site across from Sandfire Roadhouse.

The next day we all headed into Port Hedland for provisions and to look at the ships loading iron ore. The public viewing point gave only a glimpse of the loading bays.

I was told that when loaded, there was 20 metres of boat below the plimsole line. The one above right is being ushered out to sea by some eager tugs, with not a lot showing above the waterline. All are bound for China, where the bulk of the Pilbara’s iron ore is sent. Where some of it comes from is covered a below under “Tom Price”.

Without staying at Port Hedland, we rode south to Karijini National Park, Dales Gorge camp site in particular. Travellers we had met had raved about this place but for us, the reality was disappointing. The camp site was barren, virtually devoid of shade trees, important in the upper 30s. The ground was hard and red with tent pegs standing no chance. Rob headed off on his Moto Guzzi after just one night.

Dales Gorge itself (photo above) was refreshingly verdant. We did the full 2 hour walk ending at Fern Pool – shown above.

The two remaining pairs of intrepid motorcyclists all departed Dales Gorge and Karijini National Park on the 20^th September, going different distances that day. Rob about to depart one day (left), Lance and Dave the next (right).

 

Tom Price

We rode the107 kms to Tom Price, a mining town built by Rio Tinto specifically for the workers at its Tom Price iron ore mine. On arrival at the Information Centre, I snapped up the chance to go on a tour of the mine leaving 30 minutes later.

On the right is an overview of the operations of the Tom Price mine.

 

 

Left is some of the gear. The Komatsu 830e was the larger of the dump trucks in use. The rear of one and front of another are shown lurking in the garage, more like a hangar, see  photo below.

The figures that poured from our guide’s mouth were mind-boggling. The Komatsu trucks cost A$4.5 million apiece with each tyre a cool A$40,000.

The actual open cast mine pit below was once a small mountain but now only the shoulders at each end are visible and in between them an oblong hole that is deeper than the mountain was high.

This single mine produces around 28 million tonnes of iron ore per year and in 6 years will be exhausted. Rio Tinto has 15 other mines in the Pilbara, collectively producing 318 million tonnes of iron ore in 2015. One is 16 kms from Tom Price. So they built a conveyor belt to transport its production to the Tom Price processing site. The cost: A$15 million per kilometre.

Each train that takes the ore about 400 kms to Port Hedland is itself 2.6 kms long. The drivers are paid A$240,000 a year but will soon be relegated to the scrap heap due to automation arriving with the “Fat Controller” residing in Perth.

The Hammersley Range in the Pilbara is about 600 kms long and made mostly of iron ore of one grade or another.

The scale of the Pilbara and its iron ore operations, like Australia itself, is massive. The map below was displayed on the Nanutarra Roadhouse wall, showing the length of our journey from Tom Price to Exmouth.

But it was dry in there so the last day’s ride west, on 21 September, took us 630 kms to Exmouth and the Indian Ocean Coast of Western Australia. This marked the end of our journey across Aussie’s Top End with the trip south to Perth and beyond about to start.

 

 

 

 

Hidden Valley Tourist Park is one of only two places tents are catered for in Darwin. We nabbed a good possie and made this our base while we attended to various bike maintenance jobs and a long overdue effort to update our respective blogs.

Bends in the roads in The Top End are so few and far between that tyres wear more quickly due to only the centre doing the work. Ours were legal but the next sensible place to replace them is Perth, some 6,000 + kms away. To reduce the risk of an expensive hold up between Darwin and Perth, we replaced all four tyres. A more challenging job was to change the tops on our reserve tanks. This became a wild goose chase with a happy ending. I opted for black irrigation fittings and had the great pleasure of meeting John Gibson in his engineering workshop. With his oversight and indulgence, the job was completed and a few cold ones shared.  He bade us meet him at the Darwin Sailing on 31st where the sun and a few beers went down in the outdoor evening warmth that is so comfortable in Darwin – at that time of year. We met up gain at the Saturday morning Parap Markets, grabbed Asian soups and followed him to his partner’s studio. Winsom Jobling is recognised in Australia for her particular form of art ………. which is ‘paper’. She described the process and showed us many examples of here work.

The photo on the left is of large example of paper made from banana tree stems. There is no drawing or printing superimposed – the art is the paper itself. The process is elaborate. Much work and care is involved. The result has an organic form of beauty to it. On the right is an example of paper (made from what in this case I didn’t note) with a pattern upon it made from natural dyes collected by Winsom from the bush. The work ‘speaks’ of Northern Territory. For my tuppence-worth, I preferred the unprinted papers and enjoyed seeing a photo of an exhibit where beautiful paper has been folded into the form of an evening dress. Winsom has made three dimensional works made from the paper – these move my boat the most. If curious, google her.

By the time we had sorted our bikes and updated our web sites, we were keen to get back on the road so only one day was spent peeping at Darwin’s tourist attractions.

Aeronautical Museum

Darwin was Australia’s “front line” in World War II, with its proximity to Asia and the threat from the Japanese. Today, Darwin’s airport is a significant RAAF base which ‘leases’ landing rights and ground operations to commercial players. To minimise the risk of aerial mishaps, the control tower is run by the military and only the military.

The US airforce had a major presence in WWII due to it being the RAAF’s most northerly base.

B52 Bombers were able to fuel up and, subject to their load – fuel/bombs – were able to circumnavigate the globe without passing over much land. For more information, visit:  http://www.darwinaviationmuseum.com.au/

The B52 sign above didn’t take up much space in the giant hangar but the actual B52 itselftook  up virtually all of it. Gifted the above B52 for display to the public. A massive hangar was erected and today, the Darwin Aeronautical Museum offer the public the opportunity to view several military aircraft from the past, all assembled around and under the gigantic B52.

Underground Fuel Depot Museum

Yes, an unusual exhibit but part of Darwin’s World War II story. Following the Japanese aircraft carrier armada’s attack on Pearl Harbour on 7 December 1941, the elderly, plus most women and all children we evacuated from Darwin and efforts to bolster its defences cranked up. On 19 February 1942, a handful of days after completing the substantial fuel storage tanks to supply the military effort from this strategic base, that same Japanese aircraft carrier fleet attacked Darwin and flattened a large proportion of it, including the newly erected fuel depot. An underground fuel storage depot made up of tunnels was commissioned and 400+ civilian men set to it with basic equipment and in rather warm conditions. The job was completed just before the end of the war and today, fuel-less, the underground fuel depot is available for inspection by the public. The scale is impressive, even if the depot’s active life was virtually nil.

 

Military Museum.

Entering the museum visitors are promised nothing less than one of Tommo’s Pies. Having sampled many Aussie pies, I felt I should give this one a go. It didn’t live up to its name!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Military Museum had an indoor matrix of display cases and exhibits., with visitors gaining a good understanding of how World War II came to Australian soil.

The educational impact was assisted by audio clips and a brief video, that provided an account of Darwin’s involvement in WWII and how various characters played important roles. The photo on the left is an illustration of the Japanese offensive. On the right an explanation of the anti-submarine nets.

There endeth this overview of our time in Darwin. We rode out the following morning, headed south to Kathryne, then veered west on the Victoria Highway in the direction of Western Australia and in particular, the Kimberley.

 

 

On 18^th August it was bye-bye Kathryn and north towards Darwin for 40 or so kms then east 22 kms to Edith Falls. This place had been talked up by various folk we had met but the reality was not a disappointment – it was better. Excellent bush camp site a mere 5 minutes walk to the lower pool, ideal for a cooling dip. Marco and Ursula, a kiwi couple we met on the last night at Kathryn, joined us in there.

The first morning we walked up to the Upper Falls where to wallow and swim in the pool below the waterfall and as the photo below suggests, under the waterfall for some of us.

The next morning we made the longer trek (90 minutes) up to Sweet Water, another pool and set of falls. Marco and Ursula we keener to avoid the heat and set off before us and somehow we failed to connect at the top. Louise and I had found this beautiful set of mini-falls and pools where we wallowed and revelled in the complete lack of people.

Thus it was that after 3 nights at Edith Falls, we rode for 3 hours north to Darwin and our new Kiwi mates rode south to Kathryn as an overnight stop on their way to Alice Springs.

The Kakadu National park, north east of Kathryn, is about the size of Switzerland, yet in the context of the Northern Territory, let alone Australia, it is a small green patch on a large NT map. we bought a permit and spent 3 nights in it. The first was intended to be at Gunlom Falls at the far end of a 37 kms unsealed road. Sadly, the seasonal blitz of 4×4 tourist traffic had churned this into transverse corrugations amid loose red gritty dirt, making riding our top-heavy bikes challenging. Louise succumbed with two spills, damaging both her panniers. With most of the lap around Aussie left to do, we retreated and resolved to stick to sealed roads unless our own inspection of the surface persuaded us an unsealed access road was within our modest off-road capabilities.

We headed further into the park and stayed two nights at Cooinda, handy for the sunrise Yellow Water Cruise.  The enthusiastic guide told us how the Buffalo grass rises with the water level of the three Alligator Rivers which was low due to The Dry. Large expanses of grazeable land disappear during the wet, allowing the salties to spread out, only to be forced back to their more confined territories in May-June. With his help, we saw: Magpie Geese; Egrets; Night Herons; Cormorants; Willy Wagtails; Crested Pigmy somethings; Whistler Kites; Sacred Kingfishers; Sea Eagles; Red Tailed Black Cockatoos; Sulphur-Crested Cockatoos; Golden Tree Snake and multiple salties.

The salties held a fascination for most on the boat. We learned that Estuarine Crocodiles are the most aggressive crocs in the world. Males grow up to 7 metres long, females 3 metres. We were introduced to “Harry” whose territory we passed through. He was a 5 metre bundle of fun.

The water temperature is around 27 degrees causing the salties to cool below the preferred 34. Having been immersed all night feeding, they climb up the banks as soon as the sun rises, recharging their batteries with menace.

Having made running repairs to Louise’s panniers at Cooinda, we headed right up to the north east corner of the park, past Jabiru (where we posted Sam’s birthday card), in time to pop the tent up at the enjoyably bush Merl camp site before riding the short distance to Ubirr. Here we joined a two hour guided walk up through the craggy rocks that served as a gallery for ancient rock art.

The education was much appreciated. What processes informed the age of the art, the stories behind each drawing and how the Aboriginal occupation of the land changed over the millennia with climate change.

The Rainbow Serpent drawing above has the explanatory sign below which delivers an unambiguous message: “Keep Your Children Happy and Safe”.

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The ranger dismissed his class by sending them clambering up Ubirr’s highest rock in time to gaze all around to Arnhem Land (a large Aboriginal Reserve) to the north and east, north west to the Van Diemen Gulf into which flow the West, South and East Alligator Rivers, then west to distant hills beyond which was Darwin.

There were up to 50 or 60 people on top of Ubirr and all fell silent as the sun slowly sank to and below the horizon. There was something spiritual about this place, it put me in mind of Cape Reinga at the northernmost tip of New Zealand where the Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean enjoy and enthusiastic meeting.

Our time in Kakadu concluded the next day with an early up, brief breakie, tent down, gear stowed and a 70 km ride down to Burrungkuy at Nourlangie for one further Ranger talk from 9 am to 11 am. Again, excellent educational content covering ancient sites, tools, occupation and more rock art. Another Dreamtime story, another Spirit Ancestor example, Namarrgon (pronounced narm-arr-gon) is the Lightning Man, an important creation ancestor responsible for the violent lightning storms Kakadu experiences every wet season. We saw drawings of him (left) at the Anbangbang Gallery (think: rock-face-in-a-cave) at Burrunguy (Nourlangie Rock). He uses his stone axes to split the dark clouds and make lightning and thunder. Namarrgon’s story began on the coastline of the Coburg Peninsula and ends in a rock shelter in the sandstone country of the Arnhem Land Plateau – where he remains today. During his travels he left his power behind at many places. On his last journey he approached the escarpment from the east, looked over the sheer wall, then took out an eye and placed it high on the cliff at Namarrgondjahdjam (Lightning Dreaming).  Here it sits, waiting for the storm season. This is a sacred and dangerous place that must not be disturbed or catastrophic events will follow. During the build up season you can see Narmarrgon’s children, aljurr (Leichardt’s grasshopper) on the fragrant pityrodia bushes which is the only plant they eat. Then, as every Wet Season begins, Namarrgon, the Lightning Man, asserts himself as great black storm clouds approach from the north, complete with blazing lightning strikes down from the angry skies.

These Kakadu insights into the Aboriginal relationship with the land, their family rules and structures were fascinating. Most of all was the use of drawings of the Spirit Ancestors to help record stories and hand down their belief system.

Finally, we rode out of Kakadu through the afternoon heat to Kathryn where we plopped gratefully into the pool at Notts Crossing Tourist Park.