Monday 1st February, Day 143, Lake Quallilup to Miller Point Camp, near Bremer Bay WA (332 Kms / 207 Miles)

That last night by the lake had not been great; it had been so windy I slept very little, always adding interest to my temper, and to a morning of putting down the caravan and trying to get it down before the bees got up.

Today we were making our way to another of the ‘free’ spots Darren’s fishing shop friend had showed him. This, some 300 Kms away. Not a great deal happened on this trip. I remember the day was very hot, and when we stopped for lunch there was an information board about the pioneers of the area, and also a map, which we compared to Darren’s drawn one. They looked pretty similar so we faithfully followed it.

You never really know what to expect when you are bumping down an unsealed road to the next camp spot. Will there be loads of people? - we generally have a bet on that. Will it have a good view? Will there be shade? Will it be near the sea? Darren – will there be somewhere I can fish? Victoria – what will the facilities be like, will there be any?...etc etc.
We drove down the 10 Kms of unsealed road and into some trees, the road would past some fishing shacks, where the professional fishermen come to do their fishing during the season, and then we were out onto a wooded point that pushed out into a wide river that ran to the sea. There were 3 or 4 caravans (even 1 or 2 is quite a few in our experience) and few other campers, but there was room for all. We found a shady spot under some trees right by the water’s edge, which looked back up to the curve of the river as it rounded the bend flowing towards us. This was West, so sunsets were spectacular.
Love it when a plan comes together.

Lake Quallilup – the Bee Movie

We stayed there for 4 nights, but have I mentioned the bees? This place was dry; dry of fresh water. The lake was very saline and there was no fresh water for miles, just what we had brought with us. When we arrived at dusk there were no bugs to speak of – always a good sign. However after we had thrown out some washing up water on the first day we noticed a lot of humming coming from outside the caravan. When we investigated there were quite a few bees (looking like the European wasp, but NOT the European wasp), congregating around where our water flows out of the caravan. That evening there were quite a few more and with the ‘Secret Life of Bees’ in my mind I went about smiling and calm through them so they wouldn’t sting me. The next evening word had clearly got out, and at the first smell of fresh water there were swarms of em. Darren wanted a shower so we drove the car away from the caravan where they had congregated and he tried to have a quick shower before they got a sniff of the fresh water. It did not take long. Soon Darren and 20 or so bees were all showering together. This is where I firmly drew the line, better to smell than be stung that became my motto. The days were so hot though, that by 3 pm all the water had evaporated away and only a few hopeful bees hummed about. But at the start of each day there was condensation that had collected on top of the roof from the cool nights, and the bees were going crazy for it. By the fourth day all washing up was banned (hooray!), and even teeth washing was an exercise (in that we had to walk some distance away to wash ‘em). On the last day, Darren of course needed some David Attenborough footage so washing up was done and after the caravan had been folded down, we threw out the water…

Sat Jan 30th and 31st – Fishing!

If Darren was writing this you would not believe him.
We had spent a day or so at the lake before D put the boat in, but o Saturday evening he went out to try his luck. I settled down to read. After only an hour he came back, having caught loads of fish – he gave some to the people who were here for the day with their kids.
On Sunday we decided to go out for a proper explore of the lake, which was very large. We had been told the best fishing was to the East, at the further end of the lake from us, and that it narrowed, then opened out again at this east end.
Armed with books, towels, sunscreen, snacks etc we set out. Sure enough at the east end there was a hidden channel with dead trees growing in it that Darren navigated his way around into another pool with more dead trees.
We stopped on the shore and Darren got fishing. I kid you not when I say he was catching a fish every time within 15 seconds of throwing out his lure. Unfortunately we only have so much room in our freezer and D had to let many go. There was so little fun in the fishing itself, that Darren made a ‘fish tree’ out of the spoils. It was almost too easy; absolutely no effort or struggle was involved at all. It was almost boring! - - - Fishing? How can that be?

A note on the ‘Facilities’ at Lake Quallilup

Being a polite sort of girl, I have spared you the details of a lot of the toilet arrangements on our trip (for which you should be MOST grateful) – but this time we experienced the ultimate in bush toilets. This takes a laid back attitude to doing your business, to a whole new level.

We had been told by Darren’s fishing shop buddy that there were facilities at the lake. When we arrived, because it was nearly dark, we didn’t see any building that it could possibly be.
Ah, but next morning Darren pointed out the loo to me…
As I mentioned, there was a large area of open land at one end of the lake, and then trees haphazardly surrounding the rest of the lake. We were camped in the open part, and then behind that was heavy bush land. Well, just in front of that bush land, about 100 metres from the caravan, on the edge of the open area, there was what looked like a blue tub, about the height of an esky*, and the diameter of….
“That’s your loo” says Darren.
“That’s a tub someone left behind”, says I.
“That’s your loo”, says he. ”Go and look”.
“You are kidding”, says I, and went to look.

Well, he was right. It looked like a round blue esky with a white lid, but it wasn’t. When I opened the lid, there was the loo seat, and beyond plunging into the depths was a hole of darkness.
Well, this was certainly the best ventilated toilet block I had been in (that’s a plus). It also, naturally, wins the prize for the loo with the best view (couldn’t BE more natural, in fact). I suppose you could, if you had the guts, just calmly walk up, while people water skied on the lake, and fished from the shore, get out your newspaper for a comfortable read, and settle down to do your morning business… OR you could get up at 5 a.m., run there, run back and congratulate yourself on a job well privately done.

New game: spot the loo, with the view, in the photoo …

Sat 30 Jan , the Great Ocean Drive around Esperance and a full moon

Left early for Esperance, which is about 30 kms away. There is a scenic drive which covers a few of the local beaches and a wind farm, which was too good to miss.
Pretty much every Australia guide I have come across (think 12 years bookselling and 12 years in publishing) has had a photograph of an Esperance beach on it. As we had been camping in the locale of Esperance, we felt it was about time to sample some of the delights of Esperance and take the ‘Great Ocean Drive’. At 32 Kms it is considerably shorter than that of its friend in Victoria. But how beautiful! How turquoise! How white! How jammy am I?!

Our first stop was Blue Haven Beach which was reached by wooden steps down to the white sand. Ah, this is what I had remembered from 15 years ago; wading out to the neck, and still being able to see your feet! Azure blue, turquoise, call it what you will, clear is what it is. The sand is so white and like talcum powder, it ‘poofs’ up at every step. The waves are larger here, not great for surfing, but big enough for a bit of body surfing…if you can do it. I can’t. It seems boys in general can. Either that or it is handed down in the Aussie DNA. Still, I’m happy to splash about in the water and look at my feet puffing up the white sand, while I try and stay out of view of Darren and his waterproof camera - honestly even underwater you can’t get away!

Next stop observation point, which is VERY windy, as you can tell by the photo. To the left and right, more perfect beaches.

Lastly, the wind farm. Now I know this is a rather contentious subject, but I really like wind farms. I think they look wonderfully majestic, and when I see one think that maybe the world is going in the right direction after all. I have always wanted to walk around one, and here we were able to walk right up to one of the smaller turbines…. (which looked gigantic to me), and I spent a happy 10 minutes taking photos of it and it’s shadow.

As we made our way back to Esperance I took a photo from the car of the road running down to wards the sea (see above). When I later looked at it, and compared it to my Australia Lonely Planet, I realised my photo and its photo were almost identical - I may make a travel journalist yet.

Oh yes, the full moon – it rose over the lake like something out of a B movie, but it was quite spectacular, and was so bright! No torches needed in the middle of the country side that night. Darren and I spent ages trying to get good photos of it – he was definitely more successful than I, as mine kept showing 2 moons in my photos. I know my eyesight is shocking, but I’m pretty sure there is only one. At least, that is what I’ve been told…?

Friday Jan 28 – 2 and the Stunning Secret Beach; Bear Grylls and the Very Hungry Gull.

The perfect camping spot turned even more perfect today, when we explored the coastal track that wound it’s way up to and along the headland. We bumped along the track getting higher and higher, then chose a left turn at random and carried on climbing. We were getting glimpses of the ocean below through sand dunes and trees, and just as I was wondering if we were going to launch off a cliff edge the road stopped in front of some trees. There was a clearing to the left of them and down a fairly steep bank of vegetation we could see the headland reach a stunning turquoise sea, lapping against a white, white beach which stretched away from us.

The clearing was also the start of a very rough sandy path that went down the steep bank. It started with a steep white slope, then disappeared into the bush. We gathered our swimming things, water, snorkels, towel, etc and launched ourselves down the steep bank. Holding onto roots and branches, we scrambled through the undergrowth, to come out at a very steep sand dune which we happily slid down onto the beach. We had made it!
No one in site and everything either turquoise, white or green. Amazing.

After a bit of snorkelling around the rocks, Darren managed to catch an octopus which had been trying to hide from him under a rock. As soon as he had it he said, “I’ve caught some bait! Now I’m going to catch the bream in there”
So Darren decided he wanted to go fishing, which meant the long trek back up the cliff for equipment. I had settled myself further down the beach where there was a little tree shade. No sooner was the decision made, he was running back up the beach and scrambling up the steep sand dune.

This was classic Bear Grylls stuff:
1) the catching of the octopus with bare hands
2) the spotting of the bream in the rock pools
3) the running along the beach
4) the stair-master way he rushed up the steep sand dune
5) the scrambling up a very steep cliff amongst roots and trees
6) the appearing and disappearing amongst the vegetation as he made his way up
7) the pleased ‘I’ve made it’ wave from the top, far in the distance

- I was surprised he hadn’t caught a rabbit in his teeth on the way up…

While he was up there I was being attacked by a march fly, or horse fly as they are called in the UK. After a bad experience with a bite from one in my teens I am slightly paranoid of them, so I needed the magic fly repellent we bought at Uluru – that really works. There was no way Darren was ever going to hear me calling to him before he started the steep descent. With this in mind , and probably a few shipwreck films as well, I wrote in the sand in enormous letters

FLY REPEL

Just before he started the descent he disappeared back to the car, and I knew my brilliance had been answered. Sure enough he returned with fishing rods, tackle, and fly repellent. Clever boy.

True to form he had soon caught a bream. However, not having any bucket to put it in to take home, we decided to cut off the top off a large water bottle, put seawater in it, and leave it in there.
Darren left it on the shore while he waded out to get another, and I sat a little further down the beach.
I glanced up and saw a pacific gull making off with the booty! With one hand clutching my bikini top on, and the other waving my sarong at it, I ran down the beach yelling at it. Darren too saw what was up, and started to quickly wade back to shore. Athough a pacific gull is about twice the size of a seagull, the fish was almost too large to allow the bird to take off, so it had to keep landing tantalisingly metres from me as I chased it down the beach. By the time we had reached the rocks at the end of the beach I realised what was left of the bream was not worth having. Shooting disgusted looks, and indulging in a bit of name calling at the bird, I retreated back to my towel.
Happily Darren was able to catch one more fish. This time it sat in the plastic bottle, covered by my sarong, with me guarding it.
No bird was gonna get the better of us again!

Thursday Jan 28 - The ancient Land Rover, then to Lake Quallilup, just west of Esperance

We had a few chores today to do in Esperance, so packed up with a view to leaving at about 10ish. A local farmer came down to grab the camp spot left by our drunken friends, he was driving a 1967 Land Rover Defender, and pulling a tiny ancient pop top caravan to put in the camp spot. That was it for Darren, all packing up ceased and the next thing I saw, was him in the Land Rover calling me to get the camera…(how does he manage these things so quickly?). Later there was the obligatory male huddle while they peered under its bonnet- would Freud find some relation with this to looking up girls’ skirts, I wonder?
Anyway, the short version of the story is that we got to Esperance a lot later than anticipated. By the time we had sent birthday cards, collected the NEW boat motor (and painfully forked out for it), done the washing and bought more petrol it was 5.30 and we were leaving Esperance for our next spot, fortunately only 30 kms away (19 miles)

Driving into the West therefore into the setting sun+ on a soft sandy track = not ideal. We haven’t got bogged since our experience near Dalhousie Springs (Oct 9), and we did not want it to happen again, so we uncoupled the caravan, and followed the sandy track till we were sure we could get through it. Fortunately the sandy track opened onto a private road that was used by the quarry, so was in great repair, so we were able to head back, collect the caravan and make our way to the camp spot. This was one of the spots Darren’s new friend at the boat shop had told us about, and he had told us if the gate to the private road had been open, to go on through, but this was late in the day and the quarry workers had gone home.
We had been told this was a camp near a lake, when we got there the lake was enormous! No need to be near any fellow campers for us. It was a pretty open area, with a sandy bottomed salt lake surrounded by trees. We camped on the west side, which meant we later caught the full moon rising over the water in the next few nights – really magical. By the quarry road we had seen lots of kangaroos in the fields beside it, and here was a free camp spot – perfect.