Going West
We’d pulled over to the side of the road by the Perth-to-the-left, Darwin-to-the-right sign and weighed up the options. Given the uncontrolled rise of Covid cases on the East Coast, we reckoned Queensland would be the next to fall and we didn’t want to be stuck there once the the wet season started. The Oodnadatta Track was tempting but we felt the options open in the timescale to get back to Victoria for my sister-in-law, Roberta’s, birthday at the end of November would mean rushing, which we didn’t want to do. So we turned left and headed for Perth.
Before leaving SA we wanted to visit a couple of places we had heard of that just happened to be on our way. Just north of the Eyre Peninsula is a free camp nestled in the shadow of Pildappa Rock. Standing above the surrounding fields, Pildappa is an enormous granite inselberg thought to have formed some 1500 million years ago deep under the earths surface and exposed as a result of the softer surrounding rock being eroded over thousands of years. We arrived after dark and found it’s impossible to judge the level of the ground with a torch so just set up the Kimberley in the first space we came to which was at a bit of a tilt. This proved problematic when we came to close the top down as the mechanism relies on everything being vertical so we had to tow it to a level spot before it could be packed up. The Rock was spectacular at sunrise and, as it is visible for miles around, this monolith would have been a significant place for indigenous peoples long before the land was farmed.
As we were leaving, we saw another camper with their bonnet open. This reminded me of my late father saying “never pass an open bonnet without asking if they need help”. When we did, we found the owners had a flat battery on their car. This gave us chance to unpack one of the many purchases we made in Adelaide, jump leads, both we and the other campers were pleased to do so. Engine started and RAC call out cancelled, they then offered to “eat our dust” on the gravel road back to the highway.
The second spot, Perlubie Beach, is an informal camp with basic facilities funded by donations that we had seen on the blogs of other travellers. It sits between the more well known campgrounds in Streaky Bay and Smokey Bay on the SA coast. Perlubie is a white sandy beach with a very gentle slope creating a knee-deep expanse of crystal clear water for maybe 50m from the shore before a sudden sharp drop to deeper water. We had our first sand driving experience getting onto the beach which went well until we chose to drive into the softer sand at the top of the beach where we got bogged. A bit of shovelling, less air in the tyres and the encouragement of a fellow camper saw us right and we set up with our door just 10m from the waves. We were fortunate to have picked a totally still day so the sea was like a mill pond and stayed like that till well after sunset when we cooked dinner over the fire.
Our plan for the whole trip is to travel an average of up to 100Km a day, knowing some days we would do a longer journey but would also be in some spots for a few days. We considered slowly working our way to Perth to keep our average down but we chose to get to warmer weather as quickly as possible then slowly work our way back to Victoria as the South of the country heated up. It felt good to have a plan, especially one that included the outdoor living we were keen to do.
Three of my four brothers have lived and travelled extensively in Australia and I could hear their voices in my head saying, in a variety of ways, ‘you do know that’s a bloody long way?’ The journey we were about to undertake was about 2500km and, whilst I was not dismissing their cautionary advice, I was also recalling driving to Italy and thinking, this is only a bit further, how hard can it be? Well, it really is a bloody long way and the big difference is that there is very little on the way. No villages with shaded cafés selling frites and Orangina or a lazy river to camp beside. Nope, just miles and miles of totally straight road, one stretch is actually 90 miles with not a single bend. You could be forgiven for thinking this would be dull but strangely, and to our surprise, it’s not.
The sheer breathtaking vastness of the space, gently patterned by soft colours of red soil and repeating bush plants with their simple leaves and intricate flowers, combine to be totally awe inspiring. My mind frequently wanders to the lives of indigenous peoples who shared this land and adapted alongside the other living things for thousands of years. The reciprocity they demonstrated maintained a balance with nature such that there was enough to meet their needs without damaging things for future months, years or generations. They lived in harmony with the seasons and the natural rhythms of changing life around them. Much of that knowledge has been lost in just a couple of generations due to the intervention of white settlers who ravaged this wonderful land and exploited pretty much everything that inhabited it. Of course time can’t be turned back but an urgent change of behaviour has a chance of perhaps halting the destruction. This is happening in some areas on a relatively small scale, with land being ‘returned’ to its natural state or ‘ownership’. I use inverted commas here because it feels like it is a stained and dirty wrung-out rag being returned to the previous wearer whose spectacular ball gown had been violently ripped from their body.
I know that the very road on which I travel and the fossil fuel I am burning is all wrapped up in this system in which I am embedded. I also know that walking and wearing a hair shirt isn’t going to change that but a sense of reciprocity and understanding of what we need to do to unravel the system so we can live in harmony with life around us might just help us move in the right direction.
The road crossing the Nullarbor Plain is often quite close to the dramatic coastline of South Australia where free camp sites shelter behind the dunes just back from the cliff edge. With the next stop over the ocean being Antarctica, I think it’s probably almost always windy in these spots but the sunset from the clifftop campfire must be beaut. We picked camps on the inland side of the road where we could drive down a short track away from the nighttime travels of the road trains and pull up amongst the trees. The first was on the Cook Road where we could have an outdoor shower from the back of the Kimberley without the need for a curtain and the second at Newman’s Rocks, which had the added bonus of resident kangaroos.
With the exception of the occasional headlights, there is no light from anywhere for hundreds of miles so the stars are unlike anything I have experienced. I had only ever seen pictures of the Milky Way, the side-on view we get of our universe from Earth, and had no idea it could be so bright and clear without a telescope. Even being unable to identify individual stars or constellations, it is magical to gaze up at these twinkles that may not even still exist.
The boarder crossing from South Australia to Western Australia has been pretty strict for some years in order to protect the unique flora and fauna from invasive species, diseases and pests which are so troublesome elsewhere. This means you have to cook, freeze or eat all fresh fruit and vegetables and remove as much dirt from shoes and vehicles as possible. The checking process by the biosecurity inspectors is rigorous and hefty penalties apply for failing to declare stuff. When I saw the signs saying seeds could not be taken into WA, I feared for the giant bag of muesli I had just made but fortunately these seeds are not a concern.
More recently, the travel restrictions imposed in Australia as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic have added a further dimension to the boarder checks. At the time we crossed and as I write, WA doesn’t have any Covid cases and they are very keen to keep it that way. Only SA, NT and TZ are currently all considered very low risk areas so we were allowed to cross the boarder provided we had been in one of these states for the previous 14 days. We had to complete a declaration detailing everywhere we had stayed and provide evidence of this in the form of receipts, bank statements or similar. Thankfully the Up Bank account app detailed this really clearly and the boarder police officer let us through. We subsequently had an email request to add this in PDF format to our on-line declaration and Ian even had a call from a copper because the account was in my name. A little invasive but understandable I suppose. I have to say, it’s nice, if a little weird, not to have to wear a mask.
We booked into the Wave Rock caravan park which, after our bush camps, really felt a bit cheek-by-jowl. We had been ‘squeezed in’ because we only booked a couple of days in advance and had guessed (incorrectly) at the size of our rig so our awning almost touched the van next door and our bed pod went over the power stand. The advantage of getting up close to your neighbours is that you get chatting which is all part of the travel experience. We added to our knowledge of off road driving and got hot tips on places to visit learning from the experiences of other campers and were very warmly invited to call in to visit a couple from Bunbury when we head South.
Wave Rock is exactly that, a rock that looks like a breaking wave, the sought you might see on Hawaii 5-O. The geology of the area is really interesting and the massive rock formation is breathtaking both from ground level and up on top. One of the features is a section that has been shaped by erosion and is aptly named Hippo’s yawn. There are lots of such rocks standing proud of the surrounding land, Uluru being the most well known, many of which, like Pildappa, are not well trodden but just as impressive.
About 16Km from Wave Rock is another one called The Humps which was surrounded by some of the most beautiful Salmon Gum trees, flowering shrubs and wildflowers we have seen so far. The whole bush was yellow and loudly humming with insect life. This time of year is perfect for seeing wildflowers in WA; other travellers told us that further north the displays are even more spectacular. We are a little late in the season to see them at their best before the heat brings their beauty to an end but we have noted to be in the area next spring.
