Sun 7 Feb. Parry Beach to Greens Island and Darren climbs the Gigantor Tree

With all these tall trees about, there had to be one or two to climb. Further west from the tingle trees, near Pemberton, are the Karri Pine forests. We were headed there today. I had read about the fire trees, which are climbed to see which direction forest fires are going. The most famous is the Gloucester tree, a mere 60 metres to climb, using a metal spiral stairway – essentially steel rods hammered into the bark that are used as steps, and nothing else. That sounded great, but I had read on and found that the tallest of the fire trees is the Dave Evans Bicentennial Tree, with 68 metres of climbing, found in the Warren National Park. That was the one I decided Darren should climb. Quietly bypassing the Gloucester Tree, I directed him to the Bicentennial one. I reasoned that there was not much point in climbing the second tallest of the trees, when the tallest was right ….here.
We arrived. I looked up, and promptly decided I didn’t want Darren to climb the tree AT ALL. I had been full of BIG TALK. Climbing was for FOOLS.
I peered up through the branches to the platform surrounded by a safety cage at the top, which, I am informed, weighs two tonnes itself and can sway up to 1.5 metres in either direction. No way did I want my dearest one anywhere near there. I felt dizzy just looking up.
Darren agreed on a compromise that he would only climb to the first level. This looked quite high enough, but I was grateful for his understanding. (I am sure he did really want to go all the way to the top?)

At the time there was a girl at the bottom waiting for her boyfriend who was somewhere up there in the branches. Once Darren started to go up, she too decided she was going to join her partner up there. Mad! I was barely able to watch Darren go up higher and higher – about 40 metres up. He stopped at the 1st rest platform and peered down at me, while I anxiously peered up at him. Then she passed him and disappeared up the tree. The foot holds are not all winding around the tree, towards the top some vertical climbing is involved. She made it. But we didn’t wait to see them come down.

Darren said coming down was harder than going up, as expected I suppose, when he happily got to the bottom he said his legs were aching and felt a little jelly like. Imagine feeling like that on a descent from the top!
I didn’t even put my foot on the first rung.

True Story: We later met a Swiss chap up near Monkey Mia, who told us he had climbed the tree, and at the top his teacher from his 8th grade had greeted him! And he had his 11 and 9 year old children with him.
Good Grief.

Saturday 6 February – Touring – Valley of the Giants, Rainforest Walk, Circular Pool

The problem is, that we are surrounded by National Parks. From Parry Beach at 12 o’clock is Mt Roe National Park, at one o’clock Mt Lindesay NP, at three o’clock is west Cape Howe NP, at nine o’clock is Walpole-Nornalup NP, at ten o’clock Mt Frankland south NP, at eleven o’clock Mt Frankland NP. Oh, and at about 12.45 is the tiny William Bay NP. From three o’clock to nine o’clock is the Southern Ocean, otherwise there would probably be more.
You get the picture? The place is beautiful. Beeeaauuutttifuuuullll. So much to see, so little time.

We opted for the most famous attractions of the area and then what else appealed. Parry Beach camp had been chosen for it’s proximity to the Valley of the Giants Walk in the Walpole-Nornalup National Park. So that was our first stop of the day.

The Valley of the Giants Walk is a walkway up in the tree tops of the rare Tingle trees found in the area. This is an ancient forest. At its highest point it is 40 metres and as I looked down to the forest floor I could feel every metre. The walk is 600 metres long and goes up at a fairly gentle gradient so that you suddenly find you are higher than expected when looking down. It also has the added joy of swaying in the breeze. Lovely. While I was up there I was stopped by a Dutch couple who thought I was the French girl whom they had given a lift to the day before, when she was hitch hiking. They were amazed when I said I wasn’t and were both quite adamant how alike we looked. It was a somewhat surreal feeling to know that my double is out there somewhere hitching the roads.
After the walk we joined a tour of the forest floor, called the Ancient Empire Boardwalk. Here we learned that the trees we were looking at were about 500 years old, they were growing in Elizabeth I’s era, amazing. They hold an enormous amount of water, which means if a forest fire hits them, they do not burn as easily.

Later we took a drive to ‘The Giant Tingle Tree’, this in the past has been photographed with cars, horses and carts, people, inside its hollowed out trunk. Now no cars can get to it, and we had a meandering walk on more board walk to take a look.
When we got to it, I realised this is not a tree you could hug to much effect.

Next we drove to a place called Circular Pool, and had lunch in the empty car park before the walk to the pool itself. We had expected this to take a while, but after only a couple of minutes we were at the water’s edge. Parts of it are said to be 5 metres deep, and apparently cars used to be able to get to the water’s edge, until one car nearly rolled in, and it was decided perhaps parking further away was a safer option.

After that we were tuckered and treed out, so we headed back to our camp town.

Fri 5 February - ALBANY, W.A.

Today we spent in Albany. Being a ‘Last of the Mohicans’ Super Fan, it is hard not to associate the Albany of Australia with the Albany of that esteemed book and film(s).
It is a wonderfully historic town, and we did the guided walking tour with the leaflet we got from the info centre. We also visited the Anglican church there, and was given a tour of that by a lovely lady volunteer, while her husband coughed in the back of the church, poor chap. This church was built by the same person who built the Perth Cathedral. I am sure there is some link between that church and that which my parents and sister were married in, in London. I became more convinced when I looked at the aisle tiles, which reminded me of All Saints in Margaret St, W1. I have to get on the internet before I can check… will add an addendum to this section.
Did you know the first dawn service on an Anzac Day was performed here at Albany? Also that it was here that many of those WW1 troops saw their last bit of Australia mainland as they were taken off in war ships from Albany to fight at Gallipoli. Sad sad times.
The church was wonderful, it had had additions built onto it as the congregation got larger, as the town grew. Good to hear of congregations growing rather than dwindling. There were also coats of arms of the various diocese to which it had belonged throughout the years – Westminster, Portsmouth, Bombay, Perth, Bunbury, all very interesting to this vicar’s daughter.

There were no free camp spots at or near Albany, so after a few hours exploring, then making our lunch at the car outside a café with everyone watching us, we pushed on to Parry Beach Camp Spot.

….Which was like a town! I think we had one of the last spots, furthest from the sea, but also furthest from the sea of people. We tucked ourselves into a tiny spot with bushes all around us at the end of the loop road of sites. When we walked to look at the beach there were people camped every few metres. This is a camp ground that was only $8 a night each, and had showers and toilets – an unheard of bargain in the world of camping, so we understood why it was popular.

So here they were, all the grey nomads, all probably out for a practice run of their camping equipment before the giant migration North in April. It was like a scene out of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang – no children (have you seen this film? I was freaked out for years). Clearly the terrifying child catcher had got them all and pushed them into school.
Yup, school holidays have ended and the geriatrics are reclaiming the beaches.

(Rounded off a great day by watching Last of the Mohicans. Sigh.)

Friday 5 Feb – My sister’s birthday – HAPPY BIRTHDAY BENEDICTA! – Miller’s Point through Albany to Parry Beach Camp Site (235 Kms / 146 Miles)

After we had, a little reluctantly, packed up to get on our way to Albany, we had been told that about 45Kms along the road there was a tiny petrol station with a toilet block with – wait for it! Free showers!
This was too good to be true so we went to investigate. Sure enough, at Wellstead, (apt name), the tiniest blip on the map, there was a petrol station, near it a fresh water drinking fountain (gold), and a public loo block, with a perfectly clean shower room, the size of our bathroom at home, with hot and cold water. Tra-la-laaaa! Dance and boogie for we shall be cleeeeean!
It is an odd thing to do, to get your shower things in the middle of the day, find your shampoo and comb, while watching trucks go by just metres away. But on this trip a real shower with walls and a ceiling is too good to pass up. In fact it is unthinkable to pass up.
People ask what I most miss on this trip – answer: my bathroom.

While Darren was transforming himself from Neanderthal Man to Metrosexual Man I was watching a bunch of black cockatoos that flew by screeching and landed in a nearby tree. There were loads of them, and the noise was terrific. Then another lot flew over. All I needed now was Tippi Hedren to come out of the Petrol station and drive away in a Chrysler Valiant. I would not have been surprised.

Thursday 4 Feb – Still Miller’s Point WA – An Eerie Cave and a beautiful evening

Today we took an expedition up the river to see how far we could go. The river got narrower and narrower, and at one point we nearly beached ourselves on a sandbank. There was mainly pastoral land on each side, and we would occasionally see a four wheel drive track. At one bend there was a steep sided rock face down into the water. The cuttings into the rocks were straight, making the cliff face look like it had been built with square and oblong building blocks. The river looked as though, at some point in past time, it had undercut the land creating a cliff with a huge cavern area under it. Darren got out to investigate, and climbed up; I (bravely) stayed in the boat. Suddenly Darren gave a screech and a huge white owl flew out from just above his head within the undercutting. The river was completely still there, and the rocks had eroded to display amazing patterns on their smooth sides. I could imagine this being a very sacred or special place for the aborigines way back when. It was almost eerie – I was glad, and had a bit of a shiver when we moved off again.

That evening was our last evening there, and we were treated to a beautiful sunset, with many birds on the water. Very peaceful… Zzzzzz

Weds 3 Feb – another MOUSE story, in which we meet Flaubert the Fishermouse (you are not going to believe this!)

You may have noticed in the last entry I nonchalantly slipped in that we were buying a mouse trap. Be not deceived! This was a hard fought purchase! Darren wanted to get it, and I, of course, did NOT.

Back at Lake Quillilup I had thought I had heard a mouse in the caravan. Yes, well this one was not getting a name from me, was not going to be adored by me, and certainly not filmed by me, only to be eaten by some predator, or murdered by Darren. No-Ho this time I was gonna find it, and help it escape.
While we were still there I started to look for it, and in the storage area under one of the seats I saw it scuttle away down a hole towards the other seat.

Yes, we had a mouse.

Darren wanted to get a mouse trap, but fortunately, no mouse trap shops being near the lake, he was unable to get one until we reached Bremer Bay. I hoped against hope the little chap had got away before we took it on a 300 km journey (what would it’s family think?)

Unfortunately we had an inkling that he was still with us when we arrived at Miller’s Point. I talked Darren into postponing the placement of the trap (KILLING DEVICE), for a couple of days to see if I could get him out. I swept everywhere in the storage areas under the seating to get rid of the few mouse droppings, so I could work out if we did still have him or not.

But then DARREN WENT FISHING… … …

When he returned I went to meet him, and he was clutching his shoulder. Thinking he had hurt himself I anxiously asked if he was Ok, and he explained that while he was out there he had got a little chilled so had put on his hoodie that he had dumped in the bottom of the bot from the caravan. Later he had felt something around his neck, but just swept it away with his hand thinking it was an insect. It happened again. Darren kept fishing…
Suddenly Darren felt something SCUTTLE down his ribs towards his waist. With far more presence of mind than I could have mustered, he grabbed what was moving. He felt something small, soft, but firm… a mouse?
Using only one hand he immediately pulled in his rods, started the engine and headed for home.

Hearing this, I grabbed the camera, and he then revealed this intrepid mouse which was now around his collar area.
Again, so CUTE, even Darren was pleased he had not used the mouse trap on it. The mouse was very self possessed, and looked back at us, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to take a trip in a caravan, then go fishing with his host. He was quite happy climbing around Darren’s jumper.
Darren rushed off to show our French camping neighbours. I hoped that she was not going to be terrified of mice and set upon it with a hammer. After Darren had shown our little friend around, and after I had dubbed him ‘Flaubert the Fishing Mouse’, we let him go into the bushes, with many cries of good wishes and prayers that he may not be eaten, but find a comfy hole to survive in.
There just has to be a children’s book in that.

Still Mon 1st Feb Quick visit to Bremer Bay

Somehow still feeling spritely after a 300km trip , we decided to go and visit Bremer Bay, which is supposed to be very pretty. I think we thought it was closer than it was, as it proved to be a 100km round trip.
We visited the shop there, where one of the world’s most grumpy women works. We were the only ones in the shop, and you would think we were doing her a disservice being there. I can’t remember what we needed – ah yes, a mouse trap! (of that later…). I think we might have gone crazy and bought a couple of other things too, but boy was she crab central. And that’s not fair on crabs.
We scurried from there as though we had been burned by her icy stare, and made our way, for a MASSIVE treat to have a drink. We were making for the sports club – apparently where the 850 inhabitants of bremer Bay like to drink, but on the way passed a restaurant / bar, on a hill with ‘sea glimpses’ and an alfresco area. Sounds posh? It was very, which we discovered after we had bought a wine and a Guinness for a princely $16. Just as we were sitting down to enjoy our eye wateringly expensive drinks (this is not Manly you know, or London for that matter), when Darren remembered he had not bought bait, so had to rush off to Mrs Grumble-Bum’s Emporium, while I sipped a dollar a time on my wine. I had nothing much else to do, so took a picture of the Guinness – I think our 3rd drink in a bar since we left (when we weren’t staying with people). See above.
We took a drive to look at the beaches, which we eventually found, Bremer Bay apparently being on an inlet to the sea, either that or we got lost. It was quite pretty, but apart from a large caravan park, Mrs Grumble-Bum’s Emporium and the restaurant with most expensive drinks list outside Manly, we did not discover much. Probably should have gone to the Sport’s Club.
Shoulda-coulda-woulda.