A Petrified Wave, A Hippo, A Giant - not to mention A Snake

At the end of the Tin Horse Highway we set up camp on the shores of Jilakin Lake and just below Jilakin Rock, one of a number of granite monoliths in the area. Once again this was isolated bush camping with absolutely no facilities i.e. back to dunny-digging! With this as our base camp, we set out to explore one of the many geological oddities in the area – Wave Rock.

A few hundred kilometres east, and slightly south, of Perth is the small town of Hayden famous for …. well not a lot. Although they have made a small tourist industry out of one of the strangest geological features - a petrified wave.

Wave Rock, a granite cliff, is 15 metres high and 110 metres long. Over the years, and at 2,700 million years it’s been around a long time, wind and water have eroded the base of the cliff and smoothed the line of the rock until it now resembles a massive wave. Multi-coloured vertical streaking in the rock adds to the effect. The wave is part of a larger granite monolith not dissimilar to the more famous Ayer’s Rock or Uluru. It appears to be of an “onion like” construction as huge layers had “peeled off” and at any moment looked as they could slip and kill passers by.

Further round from the Wave was another oddity – the Hippo’s Yawn, again caused by erosion - then on to Mulka’s Cave. Mulka, according to Aboriginal legend, was the illegitimate son of a forbidden liaison who grew up to be a cross-eyed, child-eating, mother-killing giant. Killing his mother was the final straw so he was speared to death by his neighbours and his body left to be eaten by red ants – these Aborigines have some good, but gory, legends! His handprints can still be seen in the cave.

After another night by Jilakin Lake we headed west back towards the coast travelling through a series of small country towns – Jitarning (a wheat store, a hotel, a community hall and that was it); Wickepin (famous for Albert Facey living there – who?); Narrogin then on to Williams where we stopped for lunch and where Sandra got the fright of her life. Lunch was a picnic just out of town on the Williams Heritage Trail and we had parked in a quiet spot by the Old Williams Cemetery which had been gifted to the town by the Hamersley family. It was very small and, as well as local worthies, a number of ex-convicts and “ticket-of-leave” men were buried there, mainly in unmarked graves and amongst whom suicide and murder seemed to have been a popular way to die.

Whilst Sandra and I were reading the tombstone of Emma Someone-or-Other I noticed something unusual by Sandra’s leg, a brown, coiled object thicker than my arm – it was a snake. Just as I was about to warn her she stepped towards it – then screamed! With its head and tail underneath Emma’s gravestone, where presumably it lived, several feet of its body was out sunbathing, perfectly at peace until disturbed by a Size 4 Scottish foot, at which point it beat a hasty retreat and pulled all of its body to the safety of the grave. Unfortunately no camera was to hand .

Our destination for the day was Lane Poole Conservation Reserve where we set up camp at an isolated spot called Christmas Creek about 12k down a pretty rough 4WD track. Camping in the woods and within feet of the river it was perfect and Sandra decided to stay for a few days and do some craft work – she is now working to build up stock for the Christmas markets in Sydney.

Perth - Wine, Bells, a Dodgy Pub, Mad Bus Drivers and even Madder Horses

Well first the good news – Lolly, Johann’s dog which was mauled by a bull terrier, is now out of hospital and is making a good recovery. She has been very brave over the last few traumatic days, as indeed has Lolly, although with a vet’s bill of over $1500 we suspect there may be a relapse. As Lolly carried no insurance lets hope the attacking dog’s owners can be persuaded to cough up.

Johann met Anathalia for the first time and they seem to have hit it off very well judging by the photograph and Johann has offered to be acting grandmother whilst Sandra is away on her travels.

The flight back to Perth was incident free and even the jetstream played its part as it disappeared thus, without having to battle headwinds, the plane made it in 4 hours instead of the usual five. We were met at the airport by John and Marie who had been looking after our car whilst we were in Sydney. The following day was very busy – a trip to a local beauty spot was followed by a long, leisurely lunch in a restaurant idyllically sited on the banks of the Swan River. Watching boats and canoes whilst sipping white wine we could have been on one of the rural stretches of the Thames – if it wasn’t for the vineyards on the other side of the river! A trip to a local ice cream parlour for a totally unnecessary dessert then on to the main business of the day – a visit to a local winery.

John and Marie had introduced us to “The Brothers” wine which they seemed to buy in great quantity, usually in two litre flagons. This was made by two brothers who, in 1950, had emigrated from Calabria in Southern Italy and had never been back. The wine itself was of the quaffable, rough and ready variety and mainly went to other wineries for blending rather than being bottled and retailed although a number of restaurants bought it in bulk to use as their house wine. We were met by Eugenio, one of the brothers, who in a thick Aussie / Italian accent, invited us to sample the wines – after many samples Sandra settled on a robust little Grenache which, at $5 for a two little flagon would hardly break the bank, so she took three.

The following day we put the car in for a service and took the train Fremantle. Perth, the WA capital, sits on the Swan River and is actually several miles inland whilst Fremantle, at the mouth of the river, is the port. We had brunch at a pavement café and then, unfortunately, explored the markets. “Unfortunately” as Johann, who on her way back to Sydney had stayed in Melbourne for a few days, had told Sandra it was “very sophisticated” and Sandra, who has basically been dressing for the bush for the last six months, decided she needed to buy some “sophisticated” clothes if we were to call in at Melbourne. This was more than the excuse she needed and, by the end of the day, we were laden with three pairs of trousers, a top, a jacket and all topped of with a new hat!

We stopped in Perth for a wander on the way back and both agreed Perth had a good feel to it – particularly the city centre which was compact, clean, well organised and interesting. One interesting feature was the very futuristic bell tower down by the waterfront – an apparently controversial building which, somewhat surprisingly, houses the bells from St. Martins-in-the-Fields in London. Another interesting feature, also by the waterfront, was a pub with a rather unfortunate name, which Sandra was seen sneaking into perhaps more in hope than expectation.

They do things differently in Australia! On our way back to the railway station the surrounding area was snarled up in an enormous traffic jam. They have “bendy buses” in Perth which are effectively two buses joined together by a concertina affair in the middle. One of these very long bendy buses has failed to take a corner properly and was jammed up against a street sign. Unable to go forward or reverse it was stuck fast - as was all the traffic coming up behind. The bus driver stopped a bus going in the opposite direction and asked the driver for help. Willing to oblige he stopped his bus to lend a hand, thus blocking all the traffic in the other carriageway. The two drivers, seemingly oblivious to the mayhem and tooting which was reaching a crescendo, pondered the problem and came up with a practical solution – if the bus couldn’t be moved the road sign would have to go. They then grabbed the street sign, put their feet up against the bus for leverage, and proceeded to pull it down.

Sunday – and finally back on the road again. Heading east along (somewhat illogically) the Great Southern Highway we arrived at York in time for an early lunch. York was the first inland town of Western Australia to be established and we arrived on race day – the place was throbbing. Not only were the races on there was a Sunday market towards which Sandra was inevitably drawn. Finding all sorts of “crafty” people to talk to (they wanted her to set up her stall there and then) I was as usual left to my own devices and decided to fill in my time by sampling the wares on Mrs Pert’s Jam and Chutney stall. Mrs Pert’s mother was on duty at the time and hearing my Scottish accent she was keen to know if I had ever heard of a place called Beauly near Inverness. Telling her I knew it well she said that it wasn’t actually Beauly itself but that she had lived at No 1 Farley (?) Croft several miles above Beauly. (This I feel is one for further investigation Ron)

Leaving York, Sandra went looking for the wildflowers that the area is apparently famous for but with little luck as there has been very little rain recently. This is the Wheat Belt of Western Australia and the crops are looking rather sad and could do with a lot of rain. Never fear – the drought-busters have arrived and where we go the rain soon follows!

After York we passed through a number of dead little towns (well it was Sunday afternoon) – Quairading, Corrigin and Kulin – where not even a stray dog broke the lassitude. However the latter part of this journey was somewhat surreal – we were on the Tin Horse Highway. The roadside was embellished with statues of horses made from old oil drums – and dozens of them. I think they were to advertise the Kulin Bush Races which are held in October every year but they are undoubtedly a traffic hazard as I weaved from one side to of the road to the other stopping unexpectedly to take photographs.

Anathalia, Tight Rope Walker, Mad Dogs and a Parking Ticket

Well we have now been in Sydney for over a week and have resolutely neglected to do any of the usual tourist things. The days have developed a slightly repetitive, although not necessarily monotonous, theme revolving around Sandra going to see her grand-daughter or grand-daughter being brought round to see Sandra – with the odd lunch or picnic thrown in for good measure. As Sandra says, she needs to see as much as her as possible now as, when we return to Scotland, she may not see her for years.

The baby now has a name. Despite Steven’s preference for “Jincky”, which he claims is a traditional Filipino name, she has now been registered as Anathalia – after Ana’s grandmother, although I suspect Jincky may put in the odd unofficial appearance from Steven’s direction!

Although we gave the normal tourist areas a miss in the first week we have seen a lot of the “real” Sydney. The 8k drive to Steven’s house goes through a number of apparently unprepossessing areas but how wrong drive-by impressions can be. Sandra had spotted a shop selling paper and card which she needed for her craft work so we parked in the King Street area of Newtown and spent the afternoon exploring the area on foot. We found a fascinating array of small independent shops, cafes and restaurants whilst behind the main thoroughfare was an interesting maze of narrow streets full of Sydney’s trademark small Victorian houses in various states of repair and renovation.

No trip to Sydney would be complete without a visit to Circular Quay to watch the street performers – including a group of painted Aboriginal musicians - and take a trip on one of the many ferries which spend their days criss-crossing the harbour. We opted for the half hour crossing to Manly on one of the venerable old yellow and green ferries – a journey we had made several times in the past. Eating fish and chips, we strolled along the beach watching the surfers - then on to the coastal footpath taking us up to the cliffs for wonderful views back over towards the town beach. We parked ourselves on a convenient bench at a viewpoint beside a sheer cliff several hundred feet above the sea and rocks where a metal railing had been erected to prevent the unwary stumbling to their death.

As we took in the views a heart-stopping few moments developed. A youngster, with a heightened degree of balance and a lowered degree of commonsense, was walking the guardrail despite the certainty of death if he slipped seawards. Slowly and teeteringly he made his way passed us as he followed the rail, which at that point ran uphill along the clifftop. (See photo – which was sneaked as I thought asking him to pose might be dangerous) As he disappeared from sight, but not over the edge, we let out our collective breath muttering about the idiocy of youth – when lo and behold he appeared again, this time teetering down the rail from right to left. The tension was too great so we left him to his tightrope act and kept our fingers crossed.

Sandra plans to take a market stall before Christmas to sell her craft work and on Saturday she visited the local Balmain Market to view the competition and to arrange for a stall in December. Finding a suspiciously convenient parking place right next to the market we got hit with our first Australian parking ticket. I didn’t realise that you had to pay $2 to park and was taken aback to see a parking attendant slapping a brown envelope onto the windscreen. “Sorry mate” he said “I can’t take it back now it’s done” I now have to pay a $86 (about £50) or fight it – I will of course fight!
On our last night in Sydney Steven invited Sandra, myself, Johann and Stretch out for a meal – however near disaster struck before we got to the restaurant. Johann has a dog which, although challenged in terms of pedigree and classic good looks, scores highly in terms of scruffy cuteness and enthusiasm. Whilst Stretch was giving Lolly a final walk before we left to meet Steven, she was attacked by two dogs including a enormous Bull Terrier which managed to lock its teeth into Lolly’s throat. A massive, and bloody, confrontation took place with Stretch and a neighbour fighting to detach teeth from poor Lolly’s neck. Instead of a pleasant farewell dinner, Johann and Stretch spent the evening supporting Lolly at the vets surgery. After a night of sedation in canine intensive care Lolly is now out of immediate danger and will hopefully make a good recovery – which is probably more than can be said for Johann and Stretch!

We fly back to Perth this afternoon to resume our trip round Australia

Caves, Pinnacles, an Old Bus and a New Baby

Dongara (or to more precise, Port Dennison) proved to be yet another pleasant seaside town, very much geared to tourism, where we stayed for two nights at a campsite by the beach. Whilst pleasant enough the town was not exactly exciting although one piece of equipment outside the Old Courthouse did set the blood racing and I am considering installing a similar corrective device to keep Sandra under control when we get home! On Saturday we set off from Dongara for Perth via the Stockyards National Park and the Pinnacles National Park.

Stockyards is a gully on one of the old droving trails where the cattle could be safely gathered for the night. The highlight was a tunnel which the river, dry when we were there, had carved through the rocks leaving a several hundred metre long tunnel similar to Tunnel Creek in the Kimberley. Unlike Tunnel Creek, we were the only people there at the time which, along with the total blackness, increased the spookiness factor. The fear factor was also raised as our ears were assaulted by a loud buzzing noise caused by feral bees whose hives could not be avoided on the approach to the cave – it was raised even further when we came across a sign warning of bee attacks. However we managed to get through the tunnel with no mishaps other than raised adrenalin – then on to The Pinnacles.

Australia has some amazing geological features not least of which are the Desert Pinnacles a couple of hours drive north of Perth. Along the shore the dune system has been stabilised by a variety of plants, however miles inland fire and wind have exposed the sand which has been blown away to expose the Pinnacles – thousands of them! Ranging in height from a few feet to several metres, these strange structures are spread out over the landscape like a disorganised Terracotta Army - with the reasons for their existence still not fully understood by geologists.

We have been fortunate throughout most of our trip to have come across people who have opened their doors to us and made us welcome - the latest of these being John and Marie. Marie is an old friend of Maureen Sturrock back in Scotland. John and Marie live in Darlington in Perth Hills about 25k from the city centre. It made a pleasant change to sleep in a proper bed, under a ceiling that didn’t flap in the wind and to have breakfast on a sunny deck overlooking the trees in their garden.

Long-time followers of this blog will recall the amazing number of coincidences reported and how these have tailed off over the last few months – well they’re back! Marie, who although English, redeems herself firstly by having lived in Orkney for 15 years at the same time that Sandra and I lived just over the Pentland Firth in Caithness, and secondly by being a friend of a good friend of ours in Orkney – the infamous Billy Dass. Mind you, as Marie said, how could anyone live in Orkney for 15 years and not know Billy!

Marie came to Australia in 1986 after a three-year overland journey in a converted 1956 bus – the story of that trip’s hair-raising experiences in Iran, India, Pakistan etc, told to us whilst drinking flagons of red wine into the wee small hours, would fill a book. The bus, named Mathilde, having lain in a state of increasing dereliction for many years, is now being totally renovated to an extremely high standard by John and Marie with the intention of Mathilde completing her circumnavigation of the world returning to Britain via the Americas. And people think Sandra and I are brave (mad?) for undertaking our trip – I take my hat of to, and are very envious of, John and Marie.

One of the reasons for being in Perth was to fly back to Sydney on 7th September in time for us to be there for the birth of Steven and Ana’s baby – our first grand-daughter – expected on the 11th. Sunday 5th was Marie’s birthday and the four of us were out for a birthday walk when my phone rang, it was Steven who announced the baby had put in an early appearance and had been born at 2am – six days before time. John and Marie had kindly offered to look after our vehicle for a few weeks whilst we were in Sydney and gave us a lift to the airport.

In Sydney we were met by Steven and whisked off to his house to see the new, as yet un-named, addition to the Douglas Clan. Sandra immediately ensconced herself with Ana to discuss babies, breast-feeding techniques, nappies and other alien topics whilst I twiddled my thumbs, had “shotties” of the baby when it wasn’t crying and gave it back when it started crying – I don’t know how I was ever a father! The baby is apparently in good fettle and even Steven, who before the birth had not exactly been full of obvious fatherly emotions, was heard to mutter proudly “She’s beautiful”

We are staying in Stretch and Johann’s house whilst in Sydney for the next couple of weeks and will no doubt be posting many more baby stories and photographs - watch this space.

Whales, Blowholes, Sea-Snakes, Mad Chefs, Pink Sea and Flowers,Flowers, Flowers

After a very enjoyable few days at Ningaloo Station (despite the food poisoning / tummy bug) we headed south stopping of at Coral Bay, which proved to be a rather twee holiday resort with nice beaches, easy access to the reef and the obligatory glass-bottomed boats. We decided not to stay - although Sandra did swim out to the reef (it wasn’t very far!) to do a bit of snorkelling – but instead headed for a place called Blowholes.

Blowholes proved to be a small, and not very enticing, camping area named after the “blowholes” at the nearby cliffs. These were impressive with plumes of sea water erupting 20 metres or so into the air along with an accompanying roar. Despite my encouragement Sandra refused to get any nearer than a few feet from these to provide an even more spectacular photo for the blog. Not fancying the Blowholes campsite we travelled up the coast for a few miles and stayed at Quobba Station which provided pretty good camping and excellent hot showers – much needed!

The following day we travelled down the coast whale-spotting. Large numbers of humpback whales were heading south and could easily be seen from the cliff tops – an initial spout of water was followed by their massive bodies surging out of the sea before diving down again to re-emerge several hundred yards further south.

Stopping briefly to buy some food at a pleasant small town called Carnarvon our next port of call was to be the Peron Peninsular – a World Heritage Site and absolutely nothing to do with Evita – it, and the Francois Peron National Park, were named after a French naturalist who had worked in the area. We camped at Nanga Bay on a site set back from a beautiful beach. Sandra had yet another bout of ecstasy when, first thing in the morning, she went down to the deserted beach by herself to find a dead calm blue sea, clear blue skies, white sand plus dolphins playing by the shore. I missed this as I was washing the dishes from the night before – and it was her turn!

Johann and Ian, who had gone their own way after Ningaloo, rejoined us at Nanga and, before leaving, we all went down to the beach for a swim. Arriving after the others, I spotted them anxiously staring at something about 30 metres off shore, Johann, who had binoculars, asserted with some authority that it was a sea snake as she could clearly see scales and coloured banding along its body. With sea snakes being one of the most deadly sea creatures, swimming seemed particularly unattractive at that precise moment. However, cometh the hour cometh the man, I went to investigate. As I neared the creature I suddenly felt a slimy coil wrap around my leg and, with a scream, I disappeared under the water –much to the consternation of the onlookers – only to emerge with what I had suspected all along, a length of rope anchored to the seabed used for mooring boats!!

One of the main purposes of our trip to Australia was for Sandra to see the wild flowers in Western Australia which, we had been led to believe, carpeted the ground from horizon to horizon with swathes of colour. So far she had been a little disappointed, particularly in the Pilbara which has a wildflower reputation. However we were now coming into real wildflower country as we headed for Kalbarri to visit Kalbarri National Park and the Kalbarri Wildflower Centre.

Kalbarri is a pleasant seaside town very much geared towards tourism and sits at the mouth of the Murchison River on a small bay protected from the open sea by a rocky bar upon which the waves pound constantly. Our campsite had perfect river views, however this perfection was somewhat dampened when the heavens opened up and hit us with our latest downpour. We couldn’t be bothered cooking that night and decided to go out for a meal to Finlays – a restaurant “with a reputation” – a reputation which, according to one of Johann’s sources, included serving excellent fish presented on pieces of toilet paper – the mind boggled!

Finlays proved to be even more eccentric than expected – the first problem was finding it! We wandered the darkened backstreets of Kalbarri – and it’s not a big place - with a map lit by the screen of a mobile phone until we eventually stumbled upon one of the most unconventional restaurants I have ever been experienced. A large yard, furnished with an amazing array of mainly, but not exclusively, fishing related junk, surrounded on three sides by corrugated iron sheds, the largest of these housed an open plan kitchen enabling customers to watch, and sometimes participate, in their meal being cooked. The cooking was done by Gary, for whom the word eccentric does no justice, and whose most potent weapon was his microphone. Ostensibly used to announce, “Come in Number 43 your meal is ready” he also made the following announcement “This is a product re-call. Would Number 95 (we were Number 99) please return their food to the kitchen. I repeat, this is a product re-call”

When Number 99 was called Johann, feeling a bit short-changed, requested that Gary give her an extra one or two mussels. Totally unphased, Gary proceeded to fill a whole plate with a few dozen extra mussels. I didn’t even complain and he gave me, not an extra piece of fish, but an extra plateful of fish – three pieces – along with rice and chips. Consequently Johann had to do a “doggy-bagging” - threatening Stretch with re-heated fish for breakfast.

The gents toilet in Finlays is furnished like a nautical radio shack with radios of various vintages lining the wall, whilst the ladies had an old Space Invaders machine and a nude female figure. And Johann’s source was wrong – the fish wasn’t served on toilet paper but rolls of it were provided in the restaurant instead of napkins. If you are ever in Kalbarri make a point of going to Finlays.

We then split up again from Stretch and Johann who stayed on at Kalbarri. We had planned to visit the National Park but the rain had closed the roads so, after a trip to the Wildflower Centre, Sandra and I set off for Geraldton, yet another seaside town, but once again we never arrived. On the way we suddenly noticed the sea had turned pink! – this was worth investigating. We had arrived at Port Gregory – famous for its pink lagoon, a naturally occurring phenomenon caused by beta carotene. Funnily enough the pink lagoon reminded me of the millions of flamingos we had see on lakes in East Africa – and it turns out that it is beta carotene that causes that as well.

Feeling a bit “beached out”, we headed inland, camped the night in splendid isolation at the Tenindewa Pioneer Well then spent most of the next day in a small nearby town called Mullewa where Sandra did the “Wildflower Walk” and I accompanied her on the “Bushland Walk”. Not much else seems to happen in Mullewa so we gave the “Railway Heritage Walk” a go but decided to call in a day before doing the “Town Heritage Walk” – they are big on Wildflowers and Heritage Walks in this part of the world!

On then to the Coalseam Conservation Park near Wongoondy for Sandra to do yet more flower spotting, then to Mingenew to look for a campsite. As we were looking we received a text from Johann saying they were at Dongara on the coast. A quick look at the map showed this was only 50k away so here we are back at the seaside for a couple of nights. Perth will be our next stop before flying back to Sydney for a couple of weeks for the birth of a grand-daughter.