Australia - Perth to Exmouth
Finally, Australia. First back to Singapore then forward to Perth where our flight landed around midnight. Even though we had to pass customs and security we were outside in the cold after just half an hour. The temperature was at least ten degrees lower than Bali. For the first night we booked the family room of a backpacker’s hotel, with 3 bunk beds. Sara was still full of energy and even though it was the middle of the night we found ourselves drawing Philippes and Caroles at 0130 in the morning, Sara’s obsession from Thailand that keeps hunting us. The next day we contacted Larry who arranged for us to stay at his brother’s house, Gerard, for a few days. We took the train to Fremantle, or Freo as it’s called by the Aussies, where Larry picked us up at the station. Big sports fan as Larry is he had his car radio on the sports channel, his TV at home broadcasting the Olympics on Channel 7 and his laptop turned on non-stop for the less important sports. He had offered us to stay at his brother Gerard’s house whom we’d also met back in Tioman without asking him. A man of few words but very hospitable. He made his living renovating and building houses and selling them with profit. Fremantle was a nice place to stay, and although the sun was shining during the day, nights would get very chilly. Since we only had summer clothing with us we used the money we saved on accommodation to buy some warm clothes. Sara played with the toys of Larry’s kids or cuddled Zebra, Gerard’s dog, and walked around the house as if she owned the place. Meanwhile Brigitte and I were in doubt on what to do with our travel itinerary. Our original idea to drive from Perth to Sydney was not recommended because of the temperature this time of year. The route itself would be quite boring as well. After lots of hours of surfing internet at Gerard’s we finally decided on Saturday afternoon: with a campervan from Perth to Exmouth than back down to the South of Perth, flying to Melbourne to eventually fly to Cairns for another campervan adventure to Sydney. This way we would see a diverse and substantial part of Australia.
Meanwhile Larry invited me for an Aussie rules football game, the derby between East-Fremantle Sharks and South-Fremantle. Their level is comparable to the highest amateur level of football in the Netherlands. We arrived at the oval stadium between first and second quarter and walked straight onto the pitch to listen in on the tactics of the Sharks’ coach. At the start of the second quarter we ended up at the ‘Shark-pit’, the part where the diehards cheered for their club. Not a cage filled with aggressive hooligans, but a bar with men in their forties who would unintentionally push each other away with their impressive beer bellies. It looked more like a nice afternoon with the lads than a serious game of sports. Still I was witnessing a rather historical moment since the last time the Sharks won was at the end of last century. Long after the game had finished, Larry’s life-long friend Stocky joined and pitchers with beer were next. I don’t know if it was because of all stories about their childhood or the beer but the schoolboy came out in Larry and he refused to go home after the final whistle. Not walking fully straight anymore we went looking for a bar and our craving for a beer was so big that nothing was off limits anymore, not even the East Fremantle Bowls Club. For the ones that don’t know what this is, it’s a game mainly played by very old people, dressed in white who try to roll oval balls as close as possible to a small ball on perfectly maintained lanes of grass. The British equivalent of ‘petanque’ but then a lot duller. You can imagine the resentment when 3 loud blokes including myself, wearing a Sharks cap entered the Club house and walked straight to the bar. The man with the whitest hair of all, apparently the chairman, took a deep breath and asked the one question to which we already knew the answer as slow as he could: “Are you boys members of this establishment?”. Hilarious!
Our home for the next 3 weeks was a brand new Toyota campervan and after the mandatory instructions we went to the nearest supermarket after which we made our first campsite stop in Lancelin. The campsite was situated right behind the dunes and the Indian Ocean and after yet another amazing sunset we went to bed early. The next planned stop, Kalbarri was a 500km drive. Driving in Australia is something different. We were lucky that the wildflower season just started so the highway views were colourful instead of dry and grey. The road kill was impressive. We counted dozens of dead kangaroos who were mainly hit in the early morning or late afternoon when most active. So far we haven’t seen one alive yet unfortunately. After driving for a few hours you can actually dream about the few traffic signs you see: stray animals, floodway, grid, floodway, grid, etc. You get excited when entering a curve, because it’s something different to do while driving, but the moments were the monotony is truly broken are the fuel station stops at the road houses. Born in a tiny, overcrowded, slightly cramped country it’s amazing to cross this vastness of nothing. Our destination was situated between coast and National Park and turned out to be a beautiful place. Where we thought winter would be low-season, it turned to be high-season meaning that it was very busy on all campsites. We obviously didn’t consider the ‘grey-nomads’. These are pensioners that have paid their mortgage and that leave their cold homes behind to travel through Australia for a few months a year. They are fully equipped from generators to satellites and form one queue travelling from South to North and than back again, strictly adhering to the butter test (according to Larry they take a package of butter with them, when butter is too hard they go northbound, if the butter is too soft they head south again). In the evenings they all gather, fully equipped again, at the free campsite bbq’s, where the men grill the meat holding a beer in one hand and a fork in the other and women discuss the weather and the itinerary of the day. A bit hesitant at first, we decided to join a bbq one evening. It turned out to be a great night. They were all grandparents missing their grandchildren, a void that was filled with Sara presence. It’s a shame she doesn’t speak English, if not we would have had a campsite filled with babysitters.
The Kalbarri coast was ideal for cycling. Sara sat in a bike seat at the back and loved it. The coast was filled with deserted bays, shell beaches and the waves so high that only few surfers dared to enter the cold sea. From Kalbarri we drove to Denham, a small but sleepy town that only served as a stopover for visiting Monkey Mia, 25 kilometres further ahead. Monkey Mia is a protected national marine park where dolphins swim to the shores in the morning to be fed under professional supervision and of course in presence of many tourists. There was only one campsite at Monkey Mia but it was fully booked for the month of August. We had to leave Denham at 0700 in the morning to make it in time for the first feeding of the dolphins, so no use knowing our morning schedule. We took it easy and went to Monkey Mia around noon and rented a sea kayak. We took a few beers and some bread rolls with us and peddled to a deserted beach. If the rhythm of our kayak would equal the success of our marriage, we’d have to file for divorce immediately. We went from left to right and splashed at each other without noticing. Sara loved it and even fell asleep on the kayak, a nap she finished at the beach. While I was chatting to the relaxed guy that rented out the kayak over a game of frisbee a curious dolphin suddenly popped up right next to us in the water. Apparently it was quite unusual for them to show up in the afternoon so there was practically nobody left at the beach. Brigitte followed the dolphin along the shore until it took off and swam back into the big blue. So, at the end we did get our private encounter with the dolphin.
Our first wedding anniversary came closer and we didn’t want to celebrate it in dull Denham. We took our campervan and drove to Coral Bay, a hefty 550 km but according to many absolutely worth it. After a long drive through a whole lot of nothing but flatness and every now and than a termite hill we arrived at Coral Bay. There were only 2 campsites, both fully booked and a few ugly hotels. Back into the campervan to drive another 150 km before reaching Exmouth. After more than 700km and 8 hours in the van it was time to pull the plastic credit and we decided to check in at the only nice hotel in the area, the Novotel Ningaloo Resort. Our long day and patience was rewarded with a beautiful hotel room and a delicious dinner. We ordered a second Australian pinot noir bottle at the restaurant and went back to our room. It turned out to be a wonderful evening in the end.
Exmouth used to be part of a former American marine base, communicating with submarines in the Pacific. The bizarre landscape in the dunes covered with antennas is nowadays still used by the Australian marine. Apart from this, it’s in the middle of nowhere, 150km away from civilisation. What makes Exmouth so very special is its situation next to the Cape Range National Park and the Ningaloo Reef. The sea is beautiful and very clear and you can discover the reef snorkelling, straight from the beach. We were a bit late for the whale shark season, but did see a few humpback whales just behind the reef. We thought about going on a boat trip to see them up close and personal but we wanted to save the money for a sailing trip on the Whitsundays at the East coast. We made a stop at the visitors’ centre of the Cape Range park first. These stops are always a delight for Sara since there always a kids corner somewhere for her to play. We hired some snorkelling gear and went to Turquoise Bay. You can guess the beauty of the bay by its name already. The water wasn’t cold and after hundreds of tropical fishes and small rays I suddenly saw two black eyes from underneath a flat piece of coral following me. I stopped to see what kind of fish it was and at that moment he came out to introduce himself: a young but midsize white tip reef shark. After checking me out, he went back to his coral shack and disappeared. A little bit shaky I quickly found my way back to the beach. Meanwhile Sara discovered the jelly fish that were lying on the beach. Before we knew she came running to us, holding a jellyfish in her hands: “Look, jelly!”. Fortunately, these ones weren’t harmful and just looked like dumped silicon boobs. The beauty of idyllic spots like these is that they are never crowded, since most grey nomads stay on the campsites. Furthermore, there aren’t that many places to stay overnight and it’s too far away from civilisation for a daytrip. On our way back we had to make an emergency stop for an emu with youngsters, who picked the road for some afternoon sunbathing. A special place this was indeed.
Our plan is to drive all the way to the Southern coast to Denmark in a few days to eventually drive back up to Perth. It’s still quite chilly down South (15-20 degrees during the day) but the scenery is supposed to be very different and beautiful. After that, we’ll fly to Melbourne for a five day visit where we’ll hopefully meet Sarah again and also an ex-colleague (Rachel Curran). We also look forward to Brigitte’s goodbye gift: dinner in Vibe on Smith.
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