Welcome to Croc Country

"You can swim at the beach," said our campground host, "no crocs here." Ok, cool. But there are stories of salties swimming past in the sea beside the beaches. Harmless enough, moving from one creek to another. Just last week, Cable Beach at Broome was cleared after a croc sighting.

Dampier Peninsula, north of Broome

Beach swimming, maybe it is over now, I thought. North of Broome is Croc Country: beware the Saltie. The signs at the start of the Cape Leveque, Dampier Peninsula road confirmed it. At our first campsite though, "You can swim at the beach," said our campground host, "no crocs here." Just as well, Middle Lagoon was a spectacular beach. Three beaches, a small lagoon in the middle. Good snorkelling, swimming, beach chilling, the beaches interspersed with rocky reefs and cliffs. As the sun set, the yellow rock in the cliff face turned the brightest orange.

In Broome I met a German backpacker, Beni, who I had met online earlier in the week. He would be sharing the ride with me up to Cape Leveque, along the Gibb River Road and onto Darwin. A keen photographer and fisherman he has made good company. On the second night on Dampier Peninsula we brainstormed how he could watch or listen to the Germany vs Ghana football match for the World Cup. No tv here, but we had phone service. From this we could determine it would be also be broadcast on SBS radio from Broome, but alas, no reception. He could have listened to streaming radio on my iPhone, but it is my last day of the billing cycle and my data allocation was almost all used up. The final solution? Someone from home in Germany phoned his mobile and set the phone by a radio which was broadcasting the game. It didn't work too well, so in the end he got a running commentary from a cousin who was watching it live on tv.

This peninsula, a little strange. Entry is by permit, it is Aboriginal land. The road from Broome to the start of the Lands, about 100km, is a rough 4WD road. In the Lands though, the 100km main road to Cape Leveque is bitumen. Figure that one out. Tracks to many campsites though are still 4WD. I think in 10-20 years though this could be a very different place. It is not so hard to seal the gap between Broome and the Lands, seal a couple of side tracks and suddenly the place is 2WD accessible. Could change the whole vibe I think.

There are many Aboriginal communities here, offering various tours and accommodation options. Kooljaman is downright resort-like (too high-brow for us), visitors flying in and out, most others though quite basic and affordable camping or beach huts. Lots of entry fees, albeit small, to enter communities.



A trip to the peninsula couldn't be complete without a visit to James Price Point, the proposed site of the Kimberley gas plant processing offshore gas. Quite a controversial proposal, the WA Govt has been spruking the wonderful benefits to the local Aboriginal community - improved healthcare and education - apparently something not every Australian is automatically entitled to. Some local Aboriginal people though claim to have not been consulted in the deal, and are launching legal challenges. The development threatens the habitat at the point, said to be a unique habitat for turtles. Even while we were there, we could see a boat conducting seabed surveys - this I was reliably informed of by a gas plant worker from Darwin.

Cape Rain

Cape Rain National Park, oops, sorry, my mistake, Cape Range National Park, is spectacular. The rains fell endlessly. The range meets the reef in the rain.

Cape Range National Park

A sign at the Visitor Centre in Exmouth announced that all campsites in the national park were full for the night. How did they know that when you cant book campsites? I drove out to the park anyway, keen to see the sights, albeit in rain. At the entrance station I was told there were a couple of sites at one of the camp grounds, so I hurried set out to check the situation. Sure enough, there was one free. Delighted with my find, I busied myself setting up the tent. A thought passed through my head, Robin Ide wouldn't set up tent here, this is a shit camp site. Most of the site is rocky, the sandy bit is the lowest part - it will fill with water. Nah, she'll be right, I'm so pleased I can camp in the national park!

I ventured off into the wider park, doing some hikes in the rain and exploring some beaches. Returning to the campsite at dusk, I found the tent in a large pool of water. Oops. Lucky it was an empty tent. I moved it to higher ground, but immediately realised this would be no better, if the rain continued, this too would fill with water. Almost instantly after that thought, heavy rain fell again. Sitting in the car, I realised I would be spending a second night trapped in my car, although I could sleep in it's dryness and comfort.

The following morning, my tent and car were in a large pool of water. Much of the camp ground was in water. Mmm.



During a small break in the rain I managed to swim out into the warm ocean waters and view the fish of Ningaloo Reef.

When I had driven towards the peninsula town of Exmouth, I had wondered if this was a wise move. With all this rain the roads could close and I could be stuck out here. Driving back from the national park and Exmouth there was standing water everywhere. Rivers and creeks had flooded, water covered much of the road in many places, and sometimes the road was more of a causeway across an lake.

Rottnest Island

Listen up class, repeat after me. "Tourists, where ever they may be, do not rise before nine, and do not leave their accommodation until after 10. Therefore, tourist crowds will only be seen sometime after 11."

Rottnest Island, 30km west of Fremantle port

I thought I had the island to myself, until after eleven when other tourists arrived on the beaches by bike or by bus. I, of course, as are my ways, had started cycling the 30 kilometre circuit around the island at eight am. In that time time I saw almost no-one, beach after beach was all mine.

Little Salmon Bay was the pick of the beaches, small, white sand, light blue water, contained by limestone headlands. Complete with a snorkeling trail. Perfect. As I pulled up on my bike, a guy rode in from the opposite direction, my first sighting of anyone else today. He had his snorkeling gear out in no time and was prepping up in the water. It was all the encouragement I needed, I'm not always the keenest to set out snorkeling. Thankful for my wetsuit, I headed out, the other guy still messing about in the shallows. Following the underwater snorkeling trail, I saw many different fish, including salmon of course. Lots of colours and stripes, this area of Western Australia attracts tropical fish due to the southerly currents. Glancing back at the shore, the guy was still messing around on the shore, next time I glanced back he was back on his bike, the water must have been too cold for him. Having talked to him on the beach he seemed pretty keen, perhaps in him encouraging me into the water I discouraged him out of it.

Sitting back on the beach in the warm sun, the bikes and busloads soon turned up. Alas, it had been all mine for awhile there. Later in the day I found myself another deserted beach to call my own, up near the World War II ruins.

Rottnest Island is a curious one. For one thing, it must have little less than 1,000 holiday units, most seemingly identical built over a couple of generations. Almost all empty, indeed, the island is pretty deserted overall. It's not tourist season here anymore, in the unpredictable winter weather. For me though it was nothing but three days of beautiful clear sunny skies.

In amongst the holiday units are some much older buildings, some from the time of either of the prisons built here, others from later tourist development or war use. Many fascinating historical buildings. The general store and mall form part of the original prison. Much of the complex has been destroyed by fire or demolished so it is hardly recognisable as one. The second prison remains, although is a hotel now so cant be toured.

The original cottages are fascinating. Built of local limestone, they were rendered in the early 1900s and painted a cream colour to reduce the sun glare. The colour and building material theme has been maintained throughout the two major accommodation areas. The cottages originally had near-flat roofs, limestone supported by timber trusses. The timber trusses were each made from a single piece of timber, ingenious. Tiles were too expensive to bring in from Fremantle, but in time corrugated iron replaced the roofs as they were difficult to keep watertight.

The museum was interesting, detailing the many shipwrecks and the dark history of the island. The two prisons were built by and detained Aboriginal people, many of whom were sent here for the European laws that had been imposed upon them. Many prisoners came from the far north of the state, the cold weather must have been quite a shock. The conditions were cramped and the inmates mistreated. One prison governor though allowed them to leave the prison each Sunday between nine am and four pm. They were provided with no lunch or dinner, but instead could roam the island and catch their dinner, quokkas, snakes or whatever.

After my cycling tour of the island it occurred to me that this island was missing a cemetery. I found a reference to one on the map, but could find little sign of it in reality. The cemetery was only used for the Aboriginal prisoners, and none of the graves is marked. Buildings and houses have been built over some of it, worse still, some of the cemetery has been used as the main camping ground. I had wondered why the camping ground, often called a Tent City, could only consist of 20 marked sites. No tent city that one. But it isn't the original camping ground, but a new one constructed in the last few years. I found the original sprawling camping ground, much of it on the cemetery. The only sign it is a burial ground is two signs near the township end, noting the site's importance and the future plans for removing all buildings and creating a memorial garden and marking the known burial areas.

Around the turn of the century the island started being used for tourism, with a few interludes during war time. During the Second World War several artillery guns were installed, and monitoring towers. 2,500 soldiers were housed here, protecting Fremantle Harbour from invasion by the Japanese.

I cant finish this entry about Rottnest Island though without mentioning the quokkas. I saw my first ones within a two of minutes of landing, and by the end of the third minute I had seen some copulating. Cute as they are they don't seem to sleep, constantly poking around my tent despite my food all being well sealed and isolated.

Download Google Earth KML file

Download kml file of Rottnest Island circuit to view in Google Earth or adapt to use as a navigational aid in a GPS unit

Stats	Rottnest Island circuit
	Thursday
	3/6/2010
Distance	31km
Moving Duration	2h30m

The Cape to Cape Track

Stretching 135 kilometres from Cape Naturaliste to Cape Leeuwin, the Cape to Cape Track follows the coast between the two lighthouses that mark the start and finishing posts. Wild isolated surf beaches, limestone cliffs and karri forest, all contained within the Leeuwin-Naturaliste National Park.

The Cape to Cape Track, Leeuwin-Naturliste National Park: 150km over 6 days

Leaving my car in Augusta, the closest town to Cape Leeuwin in the south, I caught a bus north to Dunsborough, near Cape Naturaliste. From here I could have hired a taxi for the 13 kilometre ride out to the lighthouse, but instead opted to walk the distance, in part because of a trail that went most of the distance, the Meelup Trail, and also because I saw a few stunning photos taken along this stretch. Setting out from Dunsborough early Tuesday morning, I walked along the coastal pathway through the lush green lawns, past the nice beachfront homes and people walking their dogs and those doing their early morning run.



Upon entering the Meelup Reserve, the trail commenced and the people all dissappeared, from here on it was only the occasional person fishing. The 13 kilometres turned out to be 16.5, but I was at the lighthouse for an icecream and an early lunch by 12.

At the Three Bears beach I sat at the lookout by the carpark, overlooking the surf and the many surfers. Clearly to be a surfer here, one needed a 4WD ute, and preferably a dog to keep you company, to access the sandy tracks to the remote beaches. The waves were huge, so it was with some awe that I watched the guys riding them in. Chatting with a local surfie, he didn't seem to think the waves were that special today and he probably wouldn't bother going out there.

My six day walk could easily be mistaken for a tour of the best surf beaches, so abundant were the beaches with enormous waves. It wasn't at all uncommon for me to be walking along an isolated beach and to see a car approach, the driver carefully selecting an area with good waves and heading out into the surf with his board.
Many beaches had names obviously influenced by the surfing conditions: Guillotine, Gallows, Left Handers, Suicides, and of course the Three Bears - Papa Bear, Momma Bear and Baby Bear.

At one beach I was gobsmacked to see the size of the waves. It was difficult to see if the surfers were out there for recreational surfing or were being pumpelled to death. Someone had scratced into the handrail on the beach staircase the words "This is Heaven." I think for a surfer without a high skillset though, it would probably be hell.

The limestone and granite rocks along the Cape to Cape Track made for some stunning scenery, from the potholes of Cape Hamelin, the cliff of Joeys Nose, the grottoes of Redgate Beach and the many submerged reefs or rocks that created large waves both close and far from the shore.

The long, isolated walks were punctuated, almost daily, by small coastal towns set by idyllic beaches. Some were calm swimming bays, others rough surf beaches. At Yalingup, the submerged reef invites tropical fish to their southernmost location.

The hike could also be a walk through history. There is the discovery history, the geographical French names by Baudin and the English names by Flinders in 1802-3. Due to the many headlands and submerged rocks the coast has laid claim to many shipwrecks. In one ten year period there were 80 ships wrecked. The larger ships coming from across the world dropped anchor in Albany, and the many smaller ships carried the loads north to Perth, around the two capes. Names like Gracetown comemorate the efforts of a small girl and her brother who saved so many people from the surf after they had been shipwrecked. In Hamelin Bay just a few pylons remain of the jetty that once loaded much local felled karri timber, the jetty a victim of rough storms. In a single storm four ships had been wrecked in this harbour, many lives being lost. The telegraph line to the north to Bunbury was out, with no less than 351 trees having fallen across it. Shipwrecks aside, there was not one, but two rusty, calcified waterwheels to be seen along the way - one at Ellensbrook Homestead and another at the very end of the walk at Cape Leeuwin.



A small section of the trail heads inland to pass through karri forest. Heralded as the western most karri forest in the world, I think this is one of those absurd statements people make to draw attention to something's uniqueness. Statements like "the tallest main-made free-standing structure in the southern hemisphere" - there are a lot of sub-clauses there. So too with this western most karri forest. Endimic to the south west of Australia, of course the karri forest has an extreme at each corner of the compass. The forest could hardly have been growing any further west since it had run out of continent on which to grow itself upon.

That said though, it was still a very special day to walk through the forest. The deeper I went in, the narrower and more overgrown the track became, but also, the louder and broader the number of bird calls.

The weather, so much a part of the traveller's life, was for the most part superb. The first three days were in stunning sunshine - hot days marked by a cool breeze and refreshing ocean swims. My choice to walk from north to south was in large part incidental, but I came to realise my good fortune as the sun was always behind me. The fourth day things began to turn, locals warned me of storms coming. Nothing much but grey cloud showed, and it wasn't until dusk that the first rain fell and thunder could be heard in the distant west. It was a slow moving thunderstorm, it wasn't until three am that the thunder reached me. The following day, the fifth day, was downright miserable. The surfers were gone, and the fishermen packed up their gear at the first sign of rain. The towns and beaches were empty, but I battled on, anticipating finer weather for the last day. Finer it wasn't, overnight the wind picked up, which left me walking into a headwind along an eight kilometre beach.

The campsites weren't outstanding, compared to those on the Bibblumun Track or Victoria's Great Ocean Walk they were downright miserable. I think the settlers and surfers got in first to choose all the best sites, most of the campsites seemed to me to be poorly sited. They had difficult or no beach access, and were often viewless. The facilities were minimal: flat ground - well mostly, a park bench, a toilet and some rainwater. These are all good, indeed very much needed, but what was glaringly lacking was a shelter of some sort, somewhere to retreat to in the rain and meet other walkers. Well, okay, there wasn't much in the way of other walkers, but in the rain it certainly would have been nice to have that focus point of a good campsite. The campsites were good in that they were hiker dedicated, you could only walk in, there was no vehicle access, so rubbish and nuisance campers are kept to a minimum.

It is possible to avoid the campsites altogether, instead opting to stay in caravan parks along the way. Literature suggests most people do this hike between five and eight days, and the many accommodation options along the way allow for lots of possibilities. I hiked some long days, usually between 24 and 29 kilometres a day. Faced with a short 20 kilometre day, followed later by a 30 kilometre day - in an effort to avoid paying caravan park fees - I decided to even out three days, converting from 20-27-30 kilometres to 26-26-28 kilometres. I did this by camping in a nice spot near Kilcarnup Beach, a distinctive place called Joeys Nose. Surfies had made vehicle tracks every which way here, and many campsites too.

The days may be long in kilometres, but not so long in duration. There is never much gain in elevation or climbing, so long kilometres are easily possible. I usually walked 16-18 kilometres before lunch, and finished hiking around 3.30pm. Sunset was just after five, the winter solstice being just weeks away.

The track is marked, good topo strip maps are available from the Cape to Cape website and Lonely Planet's Walking in Australia guide. The Lonely Planet guide was immensely helpful, not for the maps but for the track notes. The trail markers have no arrows, so often they will guide you into a carpark or town, but you are left there scratching your head. It isn't until you have walked a few metres down the correct track, that you see another trail marker confirming your choice. Often there was no confirmation, which is where instinct and the Lonely Planet guide was so helpful. The guide would mention things like "take the second - not the first - staircase off the beach," or, "at the Y-junction take the right fork" and so forth. The towns weren't such a problem, or matterred that much if you take a wrong turn, as you can figure out how where to exit the town from the detailed town maps inset on the topo strip map. Beach exits were particularly troublesome, often there would be a large sign reading "Cape to Cape Track", but sometimes not. Following the footprints in the sand seemed to be the key, except in cases of tracks between carparks and beaches where the footprints could lead you astray.

In towns I kept detouring the local general store in a bid to find some duct tape, my Thermarest Neoair, or should I just say neo, air mattress wasn't lasting the night. Generous use of some duct tape should remedy the problem until I can fix it at the end of the trip. No-one seemed to sell it, after a 1.2 kilometre walk to a store and back on the third day, I gave up.

Incidentally, if anyone is interested in purchasing a state-of-the art piece of plastic, drop me an email. Upon reaching camp you consume all remaining energy blowing into it to inflate it, topping it up just before bed time as your warmed air has now cooled and condensed, and you have a very comfortable bed for at least two hours, and some air in it for at least six. Extra light and compact, thin bits of plastic to sleep on were never so comfortable. Upon finishing my six day hike, I spent twenty minutes searching everywhere for the source of the leak. This aint no finding-a-puncture-in-a-bike-tyre experience let me tell you, the holes seem to perform only under a wriggling body, I could find no sign whatsoever of a leak.
My Exped Vela I Extreme tent went very well. I have only used it briefly in New Zealand, and on two nights of the Bibblumun Track last week. I was able to test both packing up and setting up in the rain, as well as cooking in the vestibule - it excelled at each task and I was most comfortable in the spacious tent and vestibule - and importantly - me and my gear remained dry.

I had planned to walk from Cape Leeuwin into Augusta to my car, but decided, in part due to some hip pain (oh goodness here's a new one), to call a cab. Having done so, it allowed me to get to the supermarket to restock with food before it closed for the day at 1pm (it was a Sunday), if I walked into town I would be buying some foodstuffs at a servo and/or eating out for dinner. My car seems to be mouse free, the mousetraps untouched in the last seven days. The car does smell rather though, as I read somewhere that mice hate mothballs, so I had bought some and placed them in the cabin and engine bay before catching the bus north, having removed them now smell still lingers somewhat...

My photos, for the first time, I have geotagged them using some fancy software that matches my GPS unit's track times with when the photo was taken, so in Picasa each photo includes a map which shows exactly where it was taken.

Download Google Earth KML file of Western Australia's Cape to Cape Track

Download kml file to view in Google Earth or adapt to use as a navigational aid in a GPS unit. The file has been modified from the one displayed in the map above, I removed my various detours and getting lost moments, so it should be quite an accurate record of the track (the path through some towns isnt quite right).

Stats	Cape to Cape Track, WA
	Tue	Tue	Wed	Thu	Fri	Sat	Sun
	18/5/10	18/5/10	19/5/10	20/5/10	21/5/10	22/5/10	23/5/10
	Dunsborough to Cape Naturaliste	Cape Naturaliste to Mt Duckworth campsite	Mt Duckworth campsite to Moses Rock Campsite	Moses Rock Campsite to Joeys Nose	Joeys Nose to Point Road Campsite	Point Road Campsite to Deepdene Campsite	Deepdene Campsite to Cape Leeuwin
Distance	16.6km	10.2km	24.2km	26.6km	26.7km	29.1km	16.0km
Start Time	8.10am	12pm	8.10am	8.00am	7.45am	7.45am	7.45am
End Time	12pm	3.30pm	3.30pm	3.10pm	3.15pm	4.05pm	11.30am
Moving Duration	3h13m	2h7m	5h13m	5h25m	5h19m	6h13m	3h15m
Stationary Duration	56m	52m	2h8m	1h47m	2h8m	2h10m	30m
Moving Average	5.2km/h	5.2km/h	4.6km/h	4.9km/h	5.0km/h	4.7km/h	4.9km/h
Overall Average	4.0km/h	3.7km/h	3.3km/h	3.7km/h	3.6km/h	3.5km/h	4.2km/h
Oodometer	16.6km	27.8km	52.0km	78.6km	105.3km	134.4km	150.0km

You know French?

Well, most definately not. Dorothee's name was pronounced D-oh-ro-tee, not the Anglicised Dorothy. This was the same with the French couple's names, not Andre by Anne-dray, not Janette but Sch-aah-nett. At Shelley Beach I met for the second time the French speaking Belgians - Vincent and Dorothee - who I had first met at Le Grand Beach a couple of days prior.

Week 2: Esperance to Walpole, Western Australia

Vincent and Dorothee were travelling around Australia in an orange Vee-dub camper van. Almost everything is original, so it is a beautiful specimen. Complete with pop-top, this is the original Sharee factory fit-out camper model made specifically for Australia. There's a stove, table, bed and second bed area in the pop-up. There is also a barometer and thermometer which confirmed that our fine weather was to end very soon.



In the first week I travelled some 2,900 kilometres from Adelaide to Esperance (2,220km direct), in this second week I slowed down covering only some 1,120 kilometres from Esperance (650km direct). I camped for two nights at Shelley Beach, it was here on the second night that Vincent and Dorothee and myself met up. This campsite was a Kate and Tim special, and it was certainly worth coming to. Accessed by a winding dirt road, the campsite is on a beach in a small bay, surrounded by high hills. On my first night here, when there was only one other camper, a hang-glider dropped in just as the sun was setting. As he walked past me with his glider rolled up he asked, "Is that champagne you are drinking? That was my first flight!"

I drove out to the Stirling Range National Park and hiked up southern WA's highest peak - Bluff Knoll. The relatively compact Stirling Range rises high above the surrounding plains. The path up Bluff Knoll is wide and well made, but it is still a 650 metre gain in elevation. The hike up took me under and hour, return was about 40 minutes. I quite like peak climbs and hiking, so this was quick, the official recommendation is 3-4 hours. It was a very clear day, and the views rewarding.

On Wednesday I drove over to Walpole, checking out some of the local beaches along the way. Leaving my car secure at the caravan park in Walpole, I rode my bike some 32 kilometres back down the road to Peaceful Bay. It was quite an enjoyable ride through the forest, and there was not much traffic around. I camped at Peaceful Bay and was treated to a nice sunset, followed by hours of intense rain. I was pretty thankful I had brought my four-season tent along with me. The following day the rain had eased, and I set out on a three day trek along a small section of the Bibbulmun Track.

The Track stretches some 1,000 kilometres from Albany in the south to near Perth in the north. I walked 60 kilometres, a mere three percent of the track. The section I covered was through the Walpole-Nornalup National Park and included some coastline consisting of beaches, dunes and clifftop walking and some forest walking. It reminded me, as many hikes somehow tend to remind one of another hike, of the beech forest walking of Victoria's Great Ocean Walk.

The second day I walked through the Valley of the Giants - the forest dense with tall red tingle trees and karri trees. It is not uncommon to see tingle trees with hollow bases, the centre of the trunk being burnt out by bushfire, but the outer living bark layers remaining. The trees are up to 60 metres tall and some hundreds of years old. It cant all be believed though, I pondered, as I walked past the site known as Douglas' Lookout with nothing but very dense forest to see. I skipped the Tree Top Walk as it sounds far too much like a scheme designed for me and my money to part ways. Much nicer to walk through the forest by oneself for three days.

The campsites are very well set up and I enjoyed staying in one at Frankland River, which included a pergola looking out over the river. This walk is detailed in Lonely Planet's Walking in Australia, but is included as a four day walk - 12km-18km-13km-18km. I walked 22km, 21km and 13km (the last day would have been longer only I miscalculated).

I didn't see or talk to anyone for these three days, which is quite an odd experience - especially in an eerie forest. A couple of times I was scared half to death by large, rapidly moving forest creatures, only to discover them as passing cars on nearby parallel roads. I would have liked to have someone else to walk with, if only to walk ahead of me thereby clearing all the spider webs.

On the final day I caught a few glimpses of patchie sun in the forest as the sun struggled to shine through the clouds. Walking into Walpole it finally shone brightly for the first time in three days.



Three days on the Bibblumun Track

Download Google Earth KML file

Download kml file to view in Google Earth or adapt to use as a navigational aid in a GPS unit

Driving Esperance to Walpole

View Magnetic North - Week 2: Esperance to Walpole in a larger map

Good Things Come in Threes

I met Andre and Jeanette on the Nullarbor at a roadside camp, we were admiring the sunset and anticipating the sunrise in such a fantastic spot. Andre and Jeanette were a couple of Germans (or Deutschers as they would prefer!) also travelling west. We were to travel together for the next three days.

Adelaide to Esperance via the Nullarbor - 7 days

I had stopped here early, I was overcome with the beauty of this desert meeting the sea just here. Whilst in South Australia the road follows the close to the sea, occassionally one catches a glimse or gets a better look at a rest area. At the Head of the Bight the white sand dunes suddenly give way to sharp cliffs.

Some things struck me about the Nullarbor, it is not treeless or featureless, the end-of-the-world abrupt meeting of the desert and sea is breathtaking, the road is not particularly straight, the plains not flat, and frankly, the drive not that boring. Every Australian should do it once (but maybe not twice?) Also, it is not one plain, but two. Beyond Eucla, at the WA/SA border, the road descends from the main plain to the lower coastal plain.

I started out from Adelaide on Monday, almost reaching Port Augusta. I slept in the car - which was hot and a little claustrophopbic - woken several times in the night by passing trains. Since then I have always slept in my tent which is so much more comfortable and, so far, well worth setting up.

On Tuesday I spent half a day in Port Augusta getting the transmission fixed, there was a minor fault which was causing some dramas, my car people in Adelaide thought it was fine but the Pt Augusta mechanic found and fixed the problem. As a result, I didn't have time to reach Port Lincoln by sunset, instead camping in a free campsite near Port Neil. Wednesday, after a morning swim and a chat with a local walking his dog, I set off into Lincoln and beyond to Memory Cove Wilderness Protection Area. After a 35 kilometre sandy 4WD track into the cove, I was presented with a magical cove. Scratched into a rock at the end of the beach is a sign made in the 1800s by whalers, they left messages here for each other - it was their post office. The offical parks brochure is interesting though, it notes the rock inscription as being "1.2m ^" rather than "4ft ^".

I decided not to spend further time on the Eyre Peninsula, eager to spend time instead in the south-west corner of WA, the Eyre Peninsula being relatively close to home. So on Thursday I skipped Coffin Bay National Park, stopping only at a few monuments (why not?) and a look-out over some cliffs - our very own Great Ocean Road coastline. I couldn't resist stopping by Locks Well, a favourite beach of mine.

Beyond Ceduna I camped in Point Bell Conservation Park, the drive out was a bit of a 4WD experience, not so keen on them I think. Beautiful beach, absolutely no-one there, although the mice kept me company all night long running over my tent (exactly what was so interesting about the tent to them?)

Friday was all new territory, I had only been as far west before as Ceduna. Fowlers Bay was interesting, I enjoyed reading all the history boards. Eyre made a four month expedition from Port Augusta to Albany droving sheep, the first crossing of the Nullarbor by Europeans. Can you imagine four months? There are monuments dotted along the way.

After the windmills of Penong - it was not art but function for all those windmills to be in one place - I succumbed to turning the iPod on. So far I had swapped between Triple J reception where possible, and silence, saving the tunes for the long Nullarbor drive.

The Head of the Bight was special, it is where the dramatic cliffs of the Nullarbor begin, ending the huge white dunes from Fowlers Bay. It was here I saw something I have not seen in a national park before. Someone saw a snake near the visitor centre, immediately the two ladies manning the counter ran out with a piece of polypipe and hit the snake. After several strikes, the lady asked the person if they minded her killing the snake. Not waiting for a response, she continued with, "hang on, let me finish the bugger off."



There were no whales to be seen yet. All the brochures say May to October is the whale season, but the sign on the road says June to September! Just to get you there...

My friend Kev has joined me for my four month trip. He was feeling a little deflated at first, but when he sat up front he perked right up. He was distraught at seeing so many of his friends on the side the road (roadkill), well to be frank, he is feeling a little let down by the whole experience. So he has retreated to his little pouch behind the front seat. I'm sure he will get back into shape soon and enjoy himself.

The price had petrol had been steadily rising from $1.23 per litre in Adelaide to $1.41 in Penong. The next roadhouse, at Nundroo was the same, but at the next one, Nullarbor Roadhouse, it was $1.71 per litre. The border was cheaper at around $1.61, but further west it rose again past $1.71, not falling to the $1.41 level again until Norseman. Ouch. But what can you do? None of them advertise their price on the roadside, why bother, where else are you to buy it? You just need the stuff. The Nullarbor provided ideal economy testing conditions, straight flat bitumen road with constant speed abilities.

Here I discovered that my car uses three litres per 100 kilometres less when driven at 100 km/h compared with 110 km/h. Upon leaving Adelaide I had resolved to limit my speed to 100 km/h, in four months what difference would 10 km/h faster make? None I'm sure, but the petrol bill will be smaller.

After spending the evening with Andre and Jeanette, we bid our farewells the following morning. Not for long though, I went off the main road at Eucla to check out the sand dune overrunning the telegraph station ruins whilst they ate their breakfast outside a nearby roadhouse. Here we met again. From here we were both going to be driving as far as we could, until almost sunset.



I reached Norseman, pushing a little further south to Esperence. I pulled over just before sunset at a rest area, the first one filled with other campers. After dinner who should pull up but my two German friends! We sat around and chatted and made plans for Sunday.

We rose early, driving south through the fog to Esperence. After a quick fruit and veg restocking - oh the grief of having it all confiscated at the SA/WA border - we drove out to Cape Le Grande National Park. Here we walked the 15 kilometre Coastal Track, well most of it. We walked from Le Grande Beach to Lucky Bay, maybe some three to four kilometres short of the full trail. Somehow we still managed to walk 14.8 kilometres though! The park is spectacular, it is mainly low lying but interspersed with huge granite mountains rising some 200-300 metres.



The beach sand is white, the water azure blue. I had seen photos in magazines, but in real life, with the sun shining, the sand is white and the water azure blue! We ate lunch sitting high above Hellfire Beach, watching four dolphins play in the surf.

We shared a bbq meal together that night, the following morning we parted ways again. So sad, but nice to meet such travellers!

Now I have done some 3000 kilometres of driving, it is time to slow down and enjoy the south west corner of Western Australia.



Coastal Track, Cape Le Grande National Park

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