Jan 23rd – Jan 28th - Beach Camp Ground 100 Km from Esperance, a 6 day holiday from a holiday.

Day 1 - peace
Awoke peacefully, with no one next to our camp spot. There was camping stuff there but no one to spoil the sound of the waves on the shore….
Got up and went over onto the long beach. The camp spot was at the west end of the beach, and then the white sand and rolling waves stretched into the distance heading west, Mmmm. We turned right towards the rocks at the end of the cove, where there were a few perfectly placed trees overhanging the sand where we put down towels in the shade while I read, and Darren snorkelled in the turquoise water.
Yes, it truly is like this. I had been to Esperance about 14 years before, and all I could remember was that it was the clearest water I had ever swum in, and had the whitest beaches. We were not disappointed.
In the afternoon we turned right towards the long stretch of beach, and we talked to a lone fisherman a little way down it. He was American, and he and Darren agreed to go abalone hunting sometime, as he had never had one.

Day 2 – peace shattered - our drunken neighbours
Today our neighbouring campers returned. We first encountered them on the beach at 10.30 in the morning, drinking with other campers and local friends. They were a couple, early 40s, and her 2 children. Both had dark tans, and were clearly sun worshippers with that leathery skin of the 70’s. Buoyed with beer, holiday mood and a natural affability for mankind, they called us over for a chat. They offered Darren a beer and we talked with them and their friends. It was clear they were pretty far gone already, and he said that their intention was to “get drunk today”. They worked 4 days on and 4 days off, her kids were down visiting from their father with whom they lived, and they were good times to be had! We were on our way for a walk around the headland where we had seen a number of 4 wheel drives going, and heard there was a beach beyond it. We tore ourselves away from the partying neighbours, and walked over the top of the headland following the car tracks and saw another fabulous beach to the west of it.
That evening Darren went for a drink with the American guy and his wife, and I stayed at ‘home’ to read.
Before Darren returned our drunken neighbours came back. They had been out partying at various friends’ camp sites all day. There was a thick hedge between them and us, but everything they said was clear as a bell. To say they were tipsy would be an understatement, to say drunk would also be an understatement – completely gone would be a polite way to put it, but fun was still being had. The two boys, 13 and 15(who had not been drinking), were fed while the music blared and then sent to bed (while the music blared). By about 11 o’clock the couple got into an argument full of misunderstandings as only drunken arguments can have. She went to the car for something. He (clearly accidentally) shut her foot in the door. She blamed him and said he did it on purpose. He was clearly sorry and a bit bemused by her anger. She still blamed him. She wouldn’t accept his apology so he got annoyed and said he was going to bed. She got annoyed by that and yelled at him and said she would sleep in the car. He was too far gone to care, and after 3 hilarious attempts to unzip the tent went to his tent. She slept in the car. Music went off at a ‘respectable’ 11.30 pm.
During this Darren came back to the caravan after his drink with the Americans, to find me giggling away while I over heard them – I couldn’t help hearing them. He joined me and we giggled on together till 11.30.

Day 3 – A blissful beach day (peace resumed)
Darren went snorkelling for Abalone early in the morning with his new American friend. I slumbered and listened to the camp next door slowly awakening with sore heads. He returned with 2 enormous abalone, which he thinly sliced then marinaded and gave one to the Americans to try. This stuff retails for $100s of dollars, and to get them off the seabed is amazing. Here is WA there are strict rules when and where you can get them, 2 should be within legal limits.
We had bought a beach shelter which I was dying to try out. For those of you in the UK, this is something you put up when you go to the beach but want to stay out of the sun. In the UK we have an inbuilt one called cloud cover – here you can’t rely on that.
We decided on a beach day and drove east down the beach. Fortunately we have our fridge in the car with us, so bringing lunch is an easy exercise. After a 15 minute drive down the beach we pitched our enormous beach shelter (2m x 2m) on the whitest sand imaginable. The waves were rolling in and we went for our first really proper Esperance-clearest-water-ever – swim. The nI read in the shade looking out at the ocean while Darren fished on the shore.
After lunch we went back to the camp, Darren went for a walk and I wrote some blog. Now you see why I am always behind! Later our neighbour (now sober) came by and said D was having an evening drink on the rocks by the ocean with them, so I hopped on the back of his quad bike and zipped off to where they were having a drink. First time on a quad bike, and not a camera in site! Shame.
That evening the music from next door was loud again, then suddenly fizzled out. Much to our amusement the next day we were told they had blown their CD player, as it had got wet in the rain that evening; the music from the car was a lot quiter!

Day 4 – 2 go on a long walk and the Mystery of the Hollow Rock
We had been told by some other campers that at the end of the beach we had seen on day 2, there was an enormous hollow rock you could stand up in. This seemed too good not to explore further, and today we set off to try and find it. It was a little overcast but we were hopeful it would not rain.
We made it safely around the headland, and were walking with a strong wind behind us up the second deserted beach. We turned round to survey the weather coming from the East and saw rain approaching us up the beach. There were no trees under which to take cover, the sand dunes were our only hope. They were steep dunes against the beach so Darren dragged me up them, and we sat huddled together with a dune behind us, and a towel over our heads, facing away from the oncoming rain. Pretty exciting stuff. I had visions of getting an hilarious 10 minute drenching while the storm went over. What happened was 2 minutes of rainfall, it seemed to peter out before it reached us; I was almost disappointed.
We resumed our walk feeling slightly foolish, and reaching the far end of the beach started to hunt for the boulder on the headland. There was an enormous smooth ledge of rock that sloped out into the sea, with a few boulders on it, and behind it, further inland, a slope of more boulders and vegetation. We explored the smooth rock first, which was deceptive in size. As we moved around the edge of the headland, more smooth rock with boulders on revealed itself. It had been described as standing by itself, and if it was big enough to stand in, I figured the rocks near the sea were jus too small. We went to where there was a mix of vegetation and boulders. I was determined NOT to give up, when at last after much peering into holes of rocks I spotted a boulder about 10 ft high with a smallish hole at it’s base.
Darren went in first, until all I could see were the bottom of his legs as he stood in the rock. Hilarious! You couldn’t make this stuff up! I crawled in to find a very roomy cave, about 6ft in diameter, and 8 ft high. This is a truly hollow boulder – wish I had been near it when the rain came.
We had been told about it, but imagine just coming across it!
‘How? When? Why?’ Are a few questions that come to mind when you are standing in a boulder, along with, ‘I hope it doesn’t collapse now…’
Another ‘crazy but true’ story from WA.

That night the loud music from our neighbours was deafening in it’s silence... Much to our amusement the next day, we were told they had blown their CD player, as it had got wet in the rain that evening and would no longer work. Ah well a third night of 80’s best perhaps would have been a bit of a trial…


Day 5 – mercifully quiet, our drunken neighbours left for home, but not before Darren had taken the two boys fishing in the morning – Awww, bless.

Friday 22 Jan – day 3 and final day of the Nullarboring, 607Km driven (379 miles) “In 1979 a spaceship crashed over Esperance. We fined them $400 fo

They should spell Nullarbor with a Zzzz.

Today was to be the final day. We would reach either Esperance or Kalgoorlie. When in Victoria, we had meat a great couple from Kalgoorlie, who had said they were going to have to return there in Jan for a wedding. We had tried a couple of times telephoning them in the hope of meeting them in Kalgoorlie. The other choice was to take the short cut non sealed road to Esperance, that ran South from Belladonia, only 30 Kms further down the road from our camp spot.
We decided to call Butch and Jay one last time at Belladonia. Their phone was out of range so I figured they could not be home at Kal (as they called it). Esperance it was to be.
Rather than drive all the way west to Norseman, then go south to Esperance (total 391 Kms), we had decided to take the ‘bonza backroad’ from Belladonia southwest to Esperance, a mere 262 Kms. I had been secretly looking forward to this as driving on unsealed road after the kilometres of sealed road we had just covered, was a much more fun prospect.
Unfortunately the entrance of the road was closed, and the people at the Belladonia hotel/motel/cultural museum advised us against it. It didn’t look too bad to me at all, and we had covered much worse roads when we were in the red centre, of that I was sure. But with much grumbling and wistful looks at the road, and, frankly, me trying to get Darren to risk it anyway, we continued on the 391Kms of interminable sealed road to Esperance.

Before we left Belladonia I took a walk through the cultural museum there. Most is centred on the NASA Skylab crash landing into the area in the 70’s. There are pieces of the actual spaceship, and loads of newspaper articles about the colourful locals who first found it. Outside the museum/hotel/motel/petrol station an enormous sign reads
“In 1979 a spaceship crashed over Esperance. We fined them $400 for littering”.
Hah! Love that Aussie humour.

We left Belladonia at about 7.30 a.m., we still hadn’t adjusted to WA time so early mornings were not painful to me yet. The road felt long, with not much to see, as we travelled the 191 Km to Norseman, then turned sharp left to head South for the 200 kms to Esperance

We made it! After much peering into the horizon we saw the ocean once more. First stop – a boat and engine broker. You may remember we had a trifle bad luck with our boat engine (see 18 Jan), consequently we needed to get it looked at and hopefully written off, so we could get another on insurance.
Next stop WA National Parks office. In SA and NSW you can buy a pass that allows you entry to almost all parks, and camping. I discovered this was not so in WA. $80 will buy you access to most parks, but none of the popular ones. It also does not allow you to camp, that you pay for separately. On discovering that a night at Cape Le Grande National Park near Esperance (where “Lucky Bay’ is, reputedly one of the most beautiful beaches in Australia) would cost us $11 entry + $9 each camping = $28 = TOO MUCH!- I was ‘not happy Jan’.
A quick visit to Woolies (food), Caltex (fuel) and a charity store (clothes) and we went back to the boat shop where we had left our engine, for an update.
While I ruminated in the car on the cost of sleeping, Darren was making friends with the owner of the shop. Just as I had decided we would hang the price, and stay at Cape Le Grande NP anyway, Darren returned to the car with 2 mud maps to local free, or nearly free, camp spots. They were local secrets! Hooray for the man who makes friends everywhere, and is constantly leaving me in the car while he ‘has a chat’. Saved again!
With a lifted heart I drove out of Esperance, past Cape le Grande and down a small track down to the bayside camp ground. $4 a night, we would stay a week!

Thursday 21st Jan – Day 2 of the Nullarboring and 543 kms driven (339 miles)

Towards the border the landscape changes. To the south of the road the cliffs give way to rugged sloping hills down to sand dunes then the sea. We stopped at a truck stop to look down and saw that there was a four wheel drive track following the coast near the sea. It looked enticing, but we had no way to get down to it to explore, as the road had started some way to the east of us. A trip for another day perhaps? Down by the sea was the route that Edward John Eyre took with his Aboriginal guide Wilie, on the first crossing from east to west in 1841. The Eyre highway, the road we were dragging ourselves down, takes it’s name from him. It took him 5 months, and his companion John Baxter died on the way. Our trip would take 3 days and no deaths were expected, but it still felt like a long time.

The first part of our trip today was quite exciting. Just before the border is the checkpoint for the fruit fly exclusion zone. This means travellers are not allowed to have any fresh vegetables or fruit with them. I had been aware of this for days now, and had managed the food in a count down to this point – ending with a meal of 7 vegetables the night before. We were clean apart from one onion that meekly we handed over. The chap wasn’t very jolly or friendly, though we tried to engage him in chat. He made us put up the caravan so he could check in it all the cupboards and the fridge (which we use as a cupboard). The he had a good rummage in our fridge in the car, and with a nod he left us to fold down the caravan and be on our way.
Next stop Eucla, and massive 13Kms from the border. We hoped to be able to buy a few vegetable provisions there, but they didn’t have any at all, the shop selling tinned and packeted goods, and operating as a café. This had been described as a township, but that seemed exaggerated.
Also at Eucla is the Eucla National Park which stretches down to the sea and has wonderful sand dunes. Partly engulfed in the dunes is the ruins of the old 1877 Telegraph repeater and weather station, so we took the 4km detour down to the plain below Eucla and across to the dunes. Due to the change in time from SA to WA (1 ½ hours?) we were there very early and there were few people about as we wandered around the limestone ruin buried in the sand.
Then we hopped back in the car for another 260Kms to the Cocklebiddy Motel for lunch.

We had been told that 30Km off the highway, south of the Cocklebiddy Motel is Twilight Cove, a stunning place to stop and camp by the sea. We had been debating the stop all the way to the Motel, but arrived to find it overcast and both of us keen to get on, we left it for another day. By the evening it had cleared to a beautiful fine sunset which had us kicking ourselves for an opportunity missed. We will return!

At the Motel I was able to have a shower for $2, money very well spent, and with clean hair and feeling extremely refreshed I took up the driving. 80 Km from the motel the road runs dead straight for 146Km, and is the longest straight stretch of road in Australia. Darren felt that even I would be able to manage that, so in the pouring rain – yes, RAIN, people – we headed west.

To keep myself occupied while Darren slept I invented a new game – the ipod game being not very successful. I would peer into the horizon where the road disappeared into a haze straight ahead and wait to spot a car coming towards me. As soon as I saw one I would then count the seconds it would take to reach me. Interesting stuff eh? I was travelling at about 88kms an hour (otherwise if I hit 90 Darren had set an alarm to go off in the car), and it generally took the car coming to me about 115 seconds to reach me. Now if the car coming towards me was averaging 110 kms an hour, how far away was the car when I saw it?
…Answers on a postcard please. There must be a way to work it out, but it is too hot to get my brain going to that extent. It looks like some dreadful O’level / GCSE/ HSC question.

After 120Km of the straight road we decided to call it a day. By now there were trees growing around us, and the landscape was a lot more friendly. We stayed at the Woorlba Homestead Rest Area (basically free parking in the trees off the highway). We ventured quite far into the trees as there were many camp spots, and halted far away enough from the road to not hear it too badly. It was a beautiful clear evening with a stunning sunset through the trees, so I wandered about taking photos, till the sun sank, we cooked, watched a DVD and went to bed. Dear me, this is hard travelling!

20 Jan – first of 3 days of the Nullarboring; the Nullarbor Roadhouse Characters and 523 Kms driven (326 miles)

As we left Ceduna there was a roundabout sign with our first sign to Perth! As we are thousands of Kms away that was pretty exciting. At the next roundabout there was no sign to Perth, just signs for local traffic, which stumped us a bit, and we had to go back to the previous roundabout to see which local towns would point the way to the Nullarbor. We had gone 1 km in 2 minutes, and already got lost on a 1673 km, 3 day journey!

The first stop was to be the Nullarbor roadhouse, 304 kms from Ceduna (190 miles)
There are a few things to see along this part of the road, especially during the whale migration season – which this isn’t; so we didn’t do anything, but drive, till we got to the roadhouse. The vegetation at first is quite abundant but as we went on it reduced to low lying scrub and nothing else. A tree was an event.

Usually all cars pass us, due to the fact our max for speed is a heady 90 kms an hour (56 miles an hour!). One of the biggest excitements of the journey was us passing a real 70’s VW van tootling along at 60Km an hour. We passed it quite near the Nullarbor roadhouse, and after we had had a couple of drinks there, the VW came in, all windows open, no aircon, even the door to the engine open to keep it as cool as possible, and a lovely couple and their dog in it. She, an American, had got a job in Perth and he, an Australian, was driving her there in the van. I recon they were early 30’s, and I just thought that was so romantic and cute! Of course the fact that they also had a beautiful Labrador with them, didn’t sway me a bit.

As soon as we went in for a drink at the bar, the only other person in there started talking to us. He was travelling from Melbourne to Perth for a wedding (these Aussies will drive anywhere for a party). He had left Melbourne on Monday, after meaning to leave on Sunday, but being too worse for wear. Today was Wednesday afternoon and he needed to travel another 1620 kms (1110 miles) to get to Perth for Friday afternoon for a suit fitting – and he was stopping here for the night. He was optimistic of his chances. By the time Darren had gone off to the loo and back, I had heard his views on marriage (he wasn’t), the story of his ‘lady friend’ in Perth, and his itinerary for 2 days celebrations at the wedding. I recon he was going to have a great time. I often wonder if he got there on time.
This is what the drive does to you. If you travel alone, as soon as you stop it seems you need to talk non stop till you fall asleep. It is all those hours of silent travelling. I found when I once drove the 12 hours from Sydney to Brisbane, what worked for me was singing at the TOP of my voice most of the way, then the urge to talk when I stopped was minimal - a happy result for all!
Singing at the top of my voice is not something I would inflict on Darren, however. So, to pass the time, we decided to go through the ipod and listen to every artist alphabetically, and cull the stuff we didn’t like. A kindly friend had put a lot of his music onto our hard drive, and we had transferred it to the ipod – MISTAKE! Trance music is simply not the thing for the Nullarbor Plain.
The rules of the ipod game were that we had to listen to all of the songs on each album, and then decide if it was to be deleted or not. Needless to say we cheated a few times, the albums being so awful we couldn’t bear to listen to all the tracks. Yes, this was a long game. So long, that after the first day we were only up to ‘B’, and almost everything was going to be deleted. A long game is a bad game. We gave up.

After the Nullabor roadhouse we decided to press on towards the Border Village where WA meets SA. That would be another 182Kms, so we agreed we would go as far as we could. Looking at the map there are camp spots overlooking the cliffs. From the roadhouse to the border is the Nullarbor National Park on land, and the Great Australian Bight Marine Park, on water, with spectacular cliffs dividing the two. The vegetation is neutral scrub with low bush like trees on it. Occasionally the road goes near the edge of the cliffs, making the horizon fall away to the sky suddenly to the South, when it is far away in the distance to the North.

The cliffs did not disappoint, we stopped a couple of times on headlands that allowed us to look East and West along the edge of the cliffs as they disappeared into the distance. I had been looking forward to these scenes for a long time of my life. I could not help but think of all those ancient ships trying to navigate these waters and needing a safe harbour, which are few and far between in this rugged landscape. Unfortuntely the cliffs did not afford us a safe harbour to rest either, as the wind was far too strong for our little pop top caravan, and we were forced to backtrack a few kms to another camp spot on the Northern side of the road with some tree shelter, where our caravan would not sway in the wind all night.

We had travelled 523Kms (326 miles) that day, and were 81kms from Western Australia.

Weds 20 Jan – in which we start the Nullabor Drive, we meet Max Bryant the Aborigine who gives us a lesson in his language

This was it! The beginning of the big trek across the Nullabor Plain. We had to make a stop in Ceduna to make a couple of calls, and check the internet. We stopped just near the beach. While I battled to get the computer going, an Aboriginal man came up to say hi (people do this all the time; since a caravan, a boat and a troop carrier tend to have a few good stories to tell – especially if Darren is telling them). The man’s name was Max Bryant and came from Yalata, an indigenous town on the Yalata Aboriginal land on the Nullabor. He gave Darren a lesson in his language – which was fascinating, and D wrote down a few of the words – though the spelling probably leaves a lot to be desired!
kangaroo – sister
balya – (it’s) all good / thanks for talking with me
coora – terrible
coda – big brother
marlen – younger brother
maroogoo – brother-in-law
why bala – White fella
waloo badaa – white woman
hooa – that’s right
wirro goodoo – Bye

He later asked for a lift back to his town 200 kms away, as he had been visiting Ceduna for a wedding. We are chockers so were unable to give him a lift comfortably that far, but we wished him well, and very well pleased with the meeting whichwe felt gave us a little bit more of what Australia is really about, we left Ceduna.