Birthday in The Pilbarra

Sunday 22 August 2010 – my 60th Birthday. We are in the Pilbara in the north of Western Australia – one of the driest, hottest areas of the country famed for its blue skies and low rainfall. At dawn, on my birthday, we were awakened by the ominous sound of rain lashing the canvas – yes, the Rain Gods had tracked us down once again! Emerging from the tent we were faced with rain, a grey and overcast sky with not even a crack of blue to suggest things were going to improve – and it was COLD! Forgoing the opening of presents until my special birthday dinner that night, we packed up and headed off towards Newman for a place we had heard of called Kalgan Pool. I did however receive a special birthday breakfast – a cheese sandwich, artistically presented, with the crusts cut off to form the figure 60 all topped off with a musical candle which played “Happy Birthday” – such thoughtfulness.

Kalgan Pool was supposedly a “not-to-be-missed” destination, a deep pool of permanent water at the base of a sculptured cliff face, in a narrow valley surrounded by towering cliffs. It was one of the locations for that famous film “Japanese Story” starring Toni Collette (no, I hadn’t heard of it either!) what’s more you needed a permit to visit, which we had, so it was going to be a fairly quiet and select spot.

But first we needed to re-provision, especially to buy the steaks for my birthday dinner and this is when the next problem became apparent. Those of you who remember Inverness in the late 1960’s (and even Stornoway a few decades later) will recall that shopping for a loaf of bread was difficult enough – but fillet steak and salad – impossible! This is still the case in Newman – my birthday dinner was going to have to be sausages, potatoes and beans as most of the shops (and there weren’t very many of them) were shut. But looking on the bright side we did have a couple of bottles of bubbly and some cans of Guinness to supplement the usual XXXX Gold.

It was getting late so, with darkness only a couple of hours away we set off in convoy to Kalgan Pool, which was 40k down the obligatory dirt track. Then the next problem – a bang, a hiss and wobbly steering - one of the new tyres I had bought only last week in Broome was ripped apart. Wheel changed, we arrived at Kalgan with no time to admire the scenery – tents up in the rain and on with the birthday bangers and mash. We had a different but very memorable birthday party sheltering from the rain in the inner depths of the tent. Presents were of a practical nature and included a knife, a head torch, fly repellent and a new “pee bottle” to save trips outside during the night (Sandra had ruined the last one by disinfecting it with boiling water – it melted!) The evening was rounded off with a quiz night testing our knowledge of Australian wildlife. And thus were made memories.

The next day there was still no time to admire our surroundings as we had booked a mine tour for Monday morning and had to be packed up and on our way not long after dawn.

The BHP Billiton iron ore mine at Mount Whaleback is staggering – both in sheer size of the mine itself and the size of the machines in operation. It is the largest open-cut iron ore mine in the world – currently 5.5k long and 1.5k wide – and the seam has approximately 1.6 billion tonnes. It was called Mt Whaleback as apparently that is what the mountain originally looked like before mining started at which time it was 805 metres above sea level. However, it is now considerably lower and, at the end of its productive career, in about 60 years, it is likely to renamed Mt Stickleback! All tour visitors had to wear headgear and safety glasses - presumably to keep the sun off our heads and dust out of our eyes – this was totally unnecessary in our case as the clouds sorted out the sun and the rain kept down the dust – and it was still cold!
After a trip to the supermarket we set out for the strangely named town of Tom Price – another mining town. After a long drive in rather gloomy weather we couldn’t be bothered looking for another exotic campsite and opted for the Tom Price Caravan and Tourist Park. With the weather reminiscent of a wet day in Dingwall we set up our tents in the rain with the only positive thing to say about the place was the showers were hot.

The following day we decided to outrun the weather and headed for the coast a mere 525k away. As it rained most of the day being in the car was probably quite a good option – and then we hit paradise, although we didn’t know it at the time.

Ningaloo Station is a 50,000 hectare pastoral lease running alongside the ocean with, about 500m off shore, Ningaloo Reef providing shelter from the Indian Ocean rollers. The owners of the station allow camping and so, as darkness fell, we set up our tents in the dunes behind South Lefroy Bay. We have been to many beaches since coming to Australia and this was one of the best with pristine sand looking out over the turquoise waters of the lagoon, with waves pounding onto the reef a few hundreds metres away. We watched whales, dolphins and flying fish from our vantage point on the dunes, swam and snorkelled in the sea and generally relaxed. At sunset we sat on the dunes with a few beers to watch the sunset – fabulous.

At Ningaloo we saw plenty of Kangaroos and also our first wild emu. The other wildlife included goats, one of which got very “wild” with Sandra when she tried to take a photograph of its kid – the attached photo was taken about two seconds before Sandra got a good butting – serves her right!

Unfortunately all did not remain well in Paradise – Sandra came down with a tummy bug which knocked her for six and confined her to bed for most of the day. The good news is that she is now recovering – the bad news is that Johann has come down with the same thing. However, I can report that Stretch and I are fine. To avoid a repetition of this food poisoning episode, hygiene standards are being tightened up and, as I type, Sandra is boiling up the tea towels in an attempt to kills bugs and bacteria. I anticipate this new cleanliness regime will last for about two days!

Tichella, Karijini, Water Nymphs and A Dead Cat

Tichella was a bit of a find. Over 40k off the road across a featureless plain and following a sandy, rutted track we eventually came to a windswept, barren range of sand dunes and a wide sweep of beach. Little known and little used except by a few local fishermen Tichella had a rather desolate beauty with wonderful sea views. Unfortunately some of the local fishermen had parked themselves on the best campsite so we had to look for an alternative. Down by the creek, a tidal inlet with fantastic turquoise water full of fish and turtles, we found a flat area and prepared to set up camp. After a few minutes however I detected a smell, which I confidently declared, was rotting fish, probably left by previous camper/fishermen. Closer inspection however revealed a more gruesome source of the smell. Wild cats are considered vermin in these parts and a recently shot specimen had been left draped over a nearby bush, it was covered in flies and seething with maggots – no camping here with this for a neighbour! A burial party (me) was detailed to bury the offending object – I buried it by the creek where it would probably have been dug up by a hungry croc. However, all this was unnecessary as the fishermen packed their rods and left and we set up camp in the prime position with sea views.

Johann and Stretch were due to join us that afternoon but didn’t appear so we stayed the night in splendid isolation - sat and looked at the stars and drank lots of cheap red wine which was all that was available at the Pardoo Roadhouse – we’d run out of drink again.

The following day the “tinks flitting” duly arrived – Johann and Stretch, whilst not exactly lost, had run out of daylight on the way to join us and had decided to camp overnight in the bush rather than risk pressing on in the dark. They arrived with a load of washing which Johann had done in Broome but had not managed to get dry – this she draped over their vehicle thus totally lowering the tone of the area! (see photo)

After a couple of very pleasant days at Tichella it was time to move on, firstly to Port Hedland to refuel then on to Karijini National Park to explore yet more gorges.

The road to Port Hedland is fairly bleak and desolate and the area surrounding the town is not much better. Port Hedland exists primarily for the exportation of iron ore from massive open caste mines including those at Newman (the largest in the world) and Tom Price. A regular stream of ore trains, some over 3k long, and endless road trains ensure that the ships at Port Hedland are loaded with iron ore to be shipped off, primarily, to China where it is converted into consumer goods and sent back to Australia.

Port Hedland also hosts the largest mountain of salt I have ever seen – probably enough to service every Fish and Chip shop in the world several times over. It is operated by Rio Tinto Salt and ranks as a local tourist attraction with a dedicated viewing and photograph platform complete with free gas barbeques and picnic area.

Our re-provisioning and salt-viewing had put us behind schedule for meeting Johann and Stretch at Karijini however, with a departure time of 3.30 and with my faithful navigator estimating the distance at 220k, I reckoned that we could make it by 5.30 giving us 30min to set up camp before darkness fell at 6pm. However, I reckoned without my faithful navigator having an off day - with darkness falling she discovered that it wasn’t 220k but actually 350k!! Having no idea about the roads ahead we decided to do the same as Johann and Stretch a few nights earlier and set up camp for the night. We pulled into an isolated roadhouse at a place called Munjina for one of the most disturbed nights of camping yet. A massive generator throbbed away all night, no doubt powering the mega watt lights which shone down on us all night whilst every 15 minutes or so enormous road trains thundered by – not relaxing!!

Then on to Karijini for a couple of days gorging.

The country around Dales Gorge, in Karijini was dry and red with little growing other than stunted bushes and spinifex grass, however a steep climb down a cliff face took you to another world of water and lush vegetation. A rough path followed a stream which eventually arrived at Fern Pool – an oasis of clear blue water fed by two waterfalls – ideal for swimming. At this point I had a mystical experience as two water nymphs appeared alluringly before me although, on studying the quickly taken photograph, the similarity to Johann and Sandra is astounding! As was the photo of a water nymph cavorting in one of the waterfalls!!

The next day we went to the strangely named Weano Gorge which was tackled heroically by Sandra, Johann and Stretch as I had a rest day after my exertions in Dales Gorge. Weano was, apparently, the most spectacular gorge yet with steep sides, vertical ladders and lots of water to wade through - and fall into! On two occasions Sandra was asked if needed a hand and, upon refusing help, she immediately plunged into the water below! Perhaps the iconic photograph of the day however was that of Johann making her way up a vertical cliff face holding on to a rail with one hand – she didn’t fall – that time!!

Tomorrow, Sunday 22 August, is most significant being my 60th birthday and we are heading a couple of hundred k’s south to a place near Newman called Kalgan Pool to celebrate the occasion in style. Hopefully I’ll pick up internet access in Newman and get this blog posted.

Broome, Three Beautiful Beaches and an Eviction

Broome is a holiday town with a huge tourist population – most of whom seemed to have been crammed in to the Cable Beach Caravan Park. Having heard on the travellers grapevine that accommodation in Broome could be hard to find, whilst I went in search of two new tyres for the Nissan, Johann started phoning around the local camp sites. The third one she tried said they could squeeze us in but only if we were able to get round there within thirty minutes to pay for the site – which cost an astronomical $78 for one night. After mainly bush camping, with the odd commercial site thrown in, mainly for the use of a washing machine, I think we were all a bit overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the place with its 450 numbered and strictly regimented sites. With many people, mainly Victorians avoiding the “cold” southern winter, staying there for up to three months at a time it was more of a village where every one seemed to know each other than a campsite. And the lengths people went to in order to create a home from home were amazing.

Of course I put my foot into things – quite literally. Our next door neighbours had erected a gazebo next to their caravan complete with fancy lights and a moving neon sign showing a bottle of red wine being poured and the word “Bar”. The ground around this bar area, and indeed all over the campsite, was covered with gravel and the man next door had spent some considerable time out with a rake to ensure all the leaves were removed before raking the gravel into patterns thus creating a Japanese garden effect. Unfortunately I didn’t spot this until too late and had walked across his “garden” leaving an unwelcome set of footprints! However, a quick rake and all was well again.

That evening we went out for a meal with an old friend of Johann and Stretch who lives in Broome - an ex-millionaire, ex-pat Brit with three ex-wives with the enviable nickname “Kamikaze”. We all piled into Kamikaze’s ancient Range Rover to travel several miles to the restaurant, Broome is a very spread out place – it wasn’t until after a very acceptable meal and several bottles of wine that the problems started. The police were out in force and it was generally agreed that Kamikaze, despite his nickname, shouldn’t risk driving us back to camp as his alcohol level was somewhat raised – no problem, we’ll get a taxi back. Well trying to find a taxi in a strange town was not easy and walking the streets with a full bladder led to the inevitable search for a public loo. With none to be found a trip to Macdonalds seemed the easy answer but, just as we reached the door, we were spotted and the staff managed to get the door locked before we crossed the threshold – it was ten seconds past nine, things close early in Broome! Sandra made use of a convenient hedge (unfortunately next to the Macdonalds Drive Thru Hatch which was still open) whilst I managed to commandeer a taxi meant for another customer. And that was our only night out in Broome.

Thus followed stays on three beautiful beaches – Gambanan, Whale Song and Barn Hill. Gambanan is an Aboriginal community and the campsite was a bit of a disappointment – very dusty with little shade. However, about 1k down a track we discovered Squeaky Beach – so called because the white sand is so pure and fine it squeaks when you walk on it. We camped right next to the beach; caught (and ate) fish when taken out in a boat by a fellow camper called Cameron; launched the inflatables for Sandra, Johann and a bunch of Aboriginal kids to play on – it was almost too good to be true. And so it proved!! The Aboriginal owners of the land found us and we were told, politely but firmly, that we were trespassing – we were evicted!

And so on to the most evocatively named place yet – Whale Song. Situated on the Dampier Peninsular about 175k north of Broome overlooking the spectacular Pender Bay, Whale Song is the site of the Humpback Whale Nursery and Resting Grounds. The campsite is down a very sandy 30k dirt road and is very small with only about half a dozen sites. We parked ourselves at the edge of a small cliff with fantastic sea views. Surprisingly, and somewhat incongruously, the site had a small café serving coffee, homemade cakes and gourmet pizzas.

The highlight for me was the sculpted outdoor shower, the entrance to which had a sign saying “In Use” on one side and “Free” on the other. When you went in or out you turned the sign to the appropriate side. Whilst luxuriating in the outside shower getting rid of the sand after an afternoon on the beach, and with the sign turned to “In Use”, I noticed a woman draped in a towel making her way through the bush towards me. I had a feeling she wouldn’t bother to read the sign and this proved to be the case. As she entered the shower area, totally oblivious to the finely honed and totally naked male body already in residence, she threw off the towel revealing all! After a screaming retreat, Droopy Dora, as I immediately nicknamed her, studiously ignored me for the rest of our brief stay!

Whale Song is where we parted company with Johann and Stretch as they were staying on for another day then going back to Broome to stay with Kamikaze - but we will be meeting up again further south hopefully in time for my 60th birthday on 22nd August.

After re-provisioning in Broome, Sandra and I are now at Barn Hill, about 120k south of Broome, camping on a near perfect sweep of beach and planning the next stage of the trip. We now have a deadline to be in Perth as we have booked flights back to Sydney on 7th September as Sandra, sentimental woman that she is, wants to be around to support Steven and Ana when they produce our first grand-daughter on or about the 11th.

Finally, we have seen many different types of caravans, camping trailers and tents on our travels but none as amazing as the monstrosity pictured at Barn Hill. It is, in effect a bus conversion, but new - not an ex-corporation bus as many of these things appear to be. Behind the bus is a double-decked trailer, in the lower level of which is a 4WD and two motor bikes, whilst the top level boasts a large boat. The bus is a mobile communications centre judging by the large satellite dish and aerials sprouting from the top. However the piece de resistance for me was the external staircase at the back of the bus leading up to a fenced-in decked area with seating and a parasol! Absolutely amazing!!

The Gibb River Road - Part 2 (Mornington, Windjaner, Tunnel Creek, Fitzroy Crossing, Tumblegoodiron)

Mornington Wilderness Camp is wonderfully remote and peaceful. Run by the Australian Wildlife Conservancy (it was recommended to us by one of the AWC directors who we met at Lawn Hill National park in Queensland) it is nearly 100k down a dirt road thus not so attractive to the casual caravaners. It has a range of accommodation from 5 star safari tents to bushcamping by the creek – and as usual we opted for the bush camp. This was not as rough and ready as it may seem as we were provided with flushing toilets, showers, a bar and a restaurant – all to a very good standard.

Mornington’s main attractions, apart from the peace and quiet, are an abundance of wildlife, particularly birds, and two big gorges – Dimond Gorge and Sir John Gorge along with a number of swimming holes. For Dimond Gorge we blew up our two inflatable dinghies and set sail – however readers of this blog will recall that Johann and Stretch’s inflatable had the unfortunate habit of deflating! Having been bought second hand (and untried) it had a number of punctures which we thought had been repaired. A few hundred yards down the gorge, with Sandra and I paddling in front, we lost sight of them so decided to tie up and wait, me to read my book and Sandra to do some crafting. After half an hour there was no sign of them, then, as the worry started to build, a couple of canoeists paddled by with the message “Your mate’s boat is sinking so they’ve turned round!” Deciding to leave them to their fate we went on, had a picnic lunch, then set sail for home – only to find them a few hundred yards away tied up under a cliff in the shade. We left them to their own devices. Photo shows Johann either looking for the leak or blowing the boat up - whilst Stretch holds up the sunshade!!

Mind you I got my come-uppance trying to get the boat out of the water when I slipped and went under – luckily no crocs were about!

Our next ports of call were to be Windjaner Gorge then Tunnel Creek which Sandra, Johann and I had visited before but which Stretch had not seen . Setting off and hour or so behind the others Sandra and I had our next bit of bad luck on the 100k back to the Gibb River Road – another puncture, the second in a couple of days. This time however it was on a little used road with minimal passing traffic and the tyre was totally shredded – irreparable. The wheel was changed with no problems but we were now vulnerable as we had no spare and little chance of buying a new tyre for several hundred kilometres – there was nothing for it, I had to slow down and drive more carefully for a change!

Windjaner Gorge is awesome – in my opinion one of the best gorges in the Kimberley. A massive cliff, which has the uncanny knack of changing colour throughout the day and is particularly stunning at sunset, has been eroded by wind and rain to form a narrow gorge which has permanent water and sandy beaches providing a home for numerous crocodiles. The entrance is through a narrow crack in the cliff wide enough to take a single person – provided they are not too fat – Sandra and I both made it! (See photo)

Last time we were here I counted seventy crocs basking on the shore before I gave up counting – although it was earlier in the season. This time we probably only saw a couple of dozen. Another big difference was this time we did not have Sandra’s nephew Fletcher with us. Normally crocodiles tend to terrorise humans – however, when Fletcher was with us last time, I think it was the crocs that were terrified – and I’ve got the photos to prove it!

That night we camped next door to an old Grey Nomad who regaled us round the campfire with the story of his life. Johann, with years of teaching experience behind her, insisted that if anyone wanted to ask a question they had to raise their hand – and of course set a good example (see photo)

Tunnel Creek is not for the faint-hearted. An enormous red-black cliff, similar to that at Windjaner, has been eroded by water – but this time forming a tunnel rather than a gorge. A difficult clamber over large, slippery boulders takes you to the tunnel entrance and into darkness. The tunnel is approximately 1k long and, apart from where the roof has collapsed about half way through, there is no natural light – torches are a must. An added adrenaline rush comes when you unexpectedly plunge waist deep into cold water and have to wade into the unknown - all this and crocs too! Mind you, it was a lot more demanding when I did the same walk five years ago as at that time I was on crutches! The end of the tunnel is slightly disappointing although the thrill of the trip is in the journey rather than the destination – and there is always the return leg to look forward to.

We had been out of phone and e-mail access for over a week and Stretch, who is still trying to run his business in Sydney by remote control, needed to get to the internet so we did a slight back-track and headed for Fitzroy Crossing. I was keen to back to FC as, five years ago, I had happy memories of a night spent in a wild and woolly pub called the Crossing Inn and wanted to see if it was still there. I particularly remembered the pub restaurant, which in decor, furniture and ambience resembled a run-down works canteen and yet, under the sole command of a chef from Blackburn in Lancashire, served getting on for superb food. One painful memory of my meal of lobster, steak and lots of red wine was a bout of gout! Although I did try to pass it off as a poisonous spider bite.

We camped next to the pub, which was heaving although not a white face was to be seen except the barmaid’s – it was obviously the local Aboriginal watering hole. However the restaurant was a revelation. Still within the same building but tarted up almost beyond recognition – tables set with crisp napery, wine glasses, matching cutlery and a team of chefs working the kitchen – offering a la carte and a buffet service. Highly recommended and in total contrast to the mayhem in the pub next door. Drinking and general misbehaving is obviously a problem within the largely Aboriginal community as can be seen from the sign erected in the park opposite the pub (see photo)

After Fitzroy Crossing we headed towards Broome spending the night at a little used, and wonderfully named, site – Tumblegoodiron. This was well off the beaten track and provided excellent, quiet camping next to the mighty Fitzroy River. Although fairly benign at this stage in the dry season being only about 50m wide- in the wet season the river can spread up to 15k wide and has an 80,000 square kilometre catchment area making it, believe it or not, the second largest river in the world in terms of capacity (presumably second to the Amazon) and its outflow could fill Sydney Harbour in 21 hours – good pub quiz material!

As I type this we are in Broome and I have been abandoned by Sandra and Johann who have gone shopping and Stretch who has gone to get his car repaired – yet again! As I bought two new tyres this morning I feel a bit more confident about the journey we set off on tomorrow – north to Cape Leveque.

The Gibb River Road - Part One (Kununurra, El Questro and Manning Gorge)

[No blogging for the last week or so as out of internet access.]

Kununurra Market is partially responsible for Sandra making and selling craft goods on this trip to Australia. In July 2005 we found ourselves in Kununurra and Sandra, looking for presents, went to the market to buy some locally made craft goods. Unfortunately what little that was available was of very poor quality and Sandra’s comment was that she could do better herself – and five years later she came back to prove the point. She was also pleasantly surprised to find that the market was much bigger and the range and quality of the craftwork had improved immensely. It was also the friendliest market she had been at and she managed to sell quite a lot of goods – particularly to one of the other stallholders who, I suspect, as soon as Sandra was out of the vicinity would start to replicate her stuff! After the market, at which she made a few hundred dollars, we had a relaxing afternoon back at the Lakeside Resort lounging around the pool – it can be a hard life sometimes!

On Sunday, our last full day in Kununurra, we packed in a lot of touristy things. Sandalwood, traditionally grown in India for perfume and incense, is now one of the main agricultural enterprises in the area and the Sandalwood plantations in Kununurra are some of the largest in the world. It appears that Sandalwood, in particular the oil, is a new wonder product with a multitude of medicinal and cosmetic applications – it will do everything from clearing acne to making Hindu temples smell as they do - not to mention being the base for a vast range of scents, creams, lotions, soaps, deodorants etc. A visit to the Sandalwood plantation shop allowed Sandra and Johann to re-stock their cosmetics bags, no doubt at great cost!

This was followed by a trip to the annual Kununurra Bushmans Rodeo – a three-day event at which tall, lean young men in blue jeans, cowboy boots and big hats came in from the surrounding cattle stations to display how easy it is to be thrown off a bucking bull! The attached photo shows the winner of the chariot event in which an old oil drum, with wheels attached, is harnessed to a terrified bull and let loose in the paddock. With several chariots competing simultaneously, to a set of totally unfathomable rules, it was reminiscent of the chariot race in Ben Hur but without the subtlety!

The afternoon concluded with drinks under the mango trees at the Ivanhoe Café on the outskirts of town – nae a bad day! Then we were off – to El Questro.

El Questro, which we had visited five years ago, was originally a huge cattle station but has now been developed into “one of the world’s most original tourist destinations” with accommodation ranging from 5 star to basic bush camping on the banks of the Pentecost River. Being as we are now intrepid bush campers we headed for one of the basic bush sites. Basically “basic” means no facilities and, as it was delicately put on our El Questro information sheet, if “you have to go” please do so 100 metres from a water course making sure your waste is buried at least 30 cms deep. When anyone was seen disappearing over the horizon with a spade over their shoulder we knew what they were off to do!

The Kimberley is gorge country and El Questro has some of the most impressive gorges in the area including Amalia Gorge, Emma Gorge and El Questro Gorge – all of which were duly visited. These visits did not entail a drive to a car park and a leisurely stroll into the gorge – rather a several hour clamber through a boulder-strewn landscape and usually uphill – absolutely knackering! After two days I was “gorged-out” and gave El Questro Gorge a miss.

The Kimberley in the dry season is guaranteed to be rain free, much welcomed by Sandra and I who have been dogged by the rain since landing in Sydney six months ago. However the Rain Gods have really got it in for us as, unbelievably, on our second day in El Questro an unseasonable rain began to fall and IT WAS COLD. Sandra bought me a hanging chair in Bali and it’s very pleasant to lounge in reading a book although, as the picture shows, when doing this in the Kimberley, it pays to have blankets, waterproofs and an umbrella handy!

We also had a trip to Zebedee Springs – a thermal pool with waterfalls. See the attached photo in which, for the sake of modesty, Sandra donned a swimming costume!

After three enjoyable, and not actually all that wet, days at El Questro, we set off along the Gibb River Road heading for Mornington Wilderness Camp which is run buy the Australian Wildlife Conservancy and was recommended to us by Graeme, one of the AWC Directors who we met some months ago in Queensland. However, as usual, things did not go to plan as we had a puncture and had to stop overnight at Mount Barnett Roadhouse to get it repaired. There was a hidden benefit to this as next day, as I was negotiating repairs, Sandra, Johann and Stretch got in yet another gorge which was near where we camped for the night – the Manning Gorge, apparently very beautiful. There was much excitement when another camper a 65 year old Israeli on his way back from the gorge, went missing and was lost overnight. However he was found alive and reasonably well after a night in the bush avoiding crocodiles and snakes.

Puncture repaired and so on to Mornington.