Turning the SW corner of WA

How do we deal with medical issues Down Under? Here’s a pretty good story. For a couple of months I had an increasingly ugly lesion on my arm. A few of weeks ago we met Julie, a Perth doctor, and her medical student daughter Lauren camping at Cape Range National Park. One thing led to another as things do, particularly over a glass of wine at a campfire. She wrote the required medical referral on a scrap of paper. We arrived in Perth in time for surgery and biopsy (yes, skin cancer). Further, Lauren happened to be filling in for an absent employee that day so it was a jolly reunion. And Mad Dr. Art was thrilled to remove the 8 stitches a week later.

A few days is all we country mice can take of a city, appealing though Perth and Fremantle are. You may wonder where we spend our nights. We’re always curious about that ourselves. You would either be impressed with our ingenuity or else want to call the cops. Caravan parks (we Yanks call them private campgrounds) give us the willies because it feels like we pay $20-25 to park so close to our neighbors they can hear us if we hiccup. Therefore we’re always scoping out scenic picnic areas, overlooks, remote tuck-in spots, etc. In cities this can be a challenge. Here’s where we slept for a couple of stormy nights on the waterfront in Fremantle. Wind-driven waves actually washed through the holes in the high stone wall!

Oh, and cleanliness. Sometimes there’s just nothing more wonderful than an actual hot water shower. Generally caravan parks permit a shower for a couple of dollars. At this public park we must stoke the water heater with wood and wait an hour for hot water first!

Stormy winter weather follows us south down the western coast. Whipping winds and rain squalls drive the sea to spectacular heights and frenzies day after day. Although we’re chilly and damp most of the time, we’re constantly agog over the wild coast and lacy limestone formations. Nothing dissuades the surfers at Myalup. We spend the night in the carpark overlooking this show.




From Cape Naturaliste to Cape Leeuwin in the far southwest we walk along the craggy coastline, spotting humpback and southern right whales. This whole corner of Oz is known for its riotous wildflower displays (not unlike Vermont’s fall foliage), but we’re just a little early in the season. Still, we have had some previews, and the upside is that we pretty much have the area to ourselves. Anyone with any sense (that excludes us right away) is still enjoying the warmth of the north. Then finally, from the Cape Leeuwin Lighthouse, we find the junction of two great oceans.

From here we must swim or point our compass eastward. Soon we discover forests (yes, actual forests! Are we still in Oz, Toto?) of mighty, white, smooth Karri trees. For such a long time it seems that nothing (except termite mounds) has grown higher than our knees. And here’s something we haven’t seen since New Zealand: a swing bridge spanning a raging river and waterfall.

Down the road we bend our necks further at soaring Tingle trees. An offbeat characteristic of these long-lived trees is that they are inclined, from fire, fungus, and bugs, to be missing their interiors. No matter; their growing parts are around the outside, just under the bark. These trees are so lofty that we treat ourselves to this Tree Top Walk which takes us on a stroll 40 metres above the ground.


Other curious trees include: marri, jarrah, sheoak, banksias, and of course the ever-popular grass tree. But the all-time winner for name alone has to be … the SNOTTYGOBBLE!


Colossal granite rocks are the featured attraction along the Southern Ocean landscape. Mt Chudalup is such a huge block we have to hike to its summit hundreds of feet up and then hold our breath not to fall off. And when you see one of us perched on an edge, consider where the other of us may be clinging to take the photo!


Now here we are at Albany, and we can’t seem to leave. More granite! Glorious hikes! Clear weather! Laid-back citizens. A wind farm which supplies 75% of the city’s power. Free showers. A defunct whale station, now converted into a fascinating history-of-whaling museum where they show their documentaries in the old whale-oil storage tanks. Whale and dolphin sightings off-shore. And friendly Bar Cino coffeehouse with delicious coffee and free wireless internet (Hi, Martin & Annette)!

But still no wombats….

Central West Western Oztralia

How can we not go to a place called 14 Mile Beach? And we are not disappointed although the amenities are pretty much only those offered by Mother Nature. To keep the area environmentally acceptable, all campers must have built-in or portable toilets, and there’s a sullage tip a few kms away. Also there’s a well with brackish water, too salty to drink but fine for dishes and bathing. We park and set up our shower tent right on the beach. We’re just in time for a big bocce tournament. Art nearly wins—and we forgot the camera! After a couple of nights, with the full moon approaching, we are surprised in the morning to find that the surf has come up, through, and beyond everyone’s campsite! Since most people have tent annexes, mats, and whatnot, there is a flurry of precautionary moat-digging, in case the horse tries to escape the barn again.

Carnarvon is a tropical haven for produce, especially bananas. At a farm we are shown around and educated in banana production. If you double-click on this photo you can see the purple blossom close-up. Baby bananas form under each petal (kind of marsupial!), which curls up and falls off when the offspring are big enough.

Shark Bay is a World Heritage Site because of its ecological significance. Other sites include the Grand Canyon and the Great Barrier Reef. It’s a pretty exclusive club. Here the water is super-saline, having to do with shallow sandbars and the curious Leeuwin Current which flows in the opposite direction from most ocean currents (well, what else would you expect down under here?). Consequently there are surprising sea creatures here, huge prairies of sea grass (as opposed to seaweed which is not affixed to the sea floor), prehistoric strombolites which generated enough oxygen to permit higher forms of life, and a particular mollusk which has produced enough shells to fill entire beaches. The calcified shells were even quarried to cut into blocks for buildings. Once again we find an incredible camping spot. Do you see our little Troopy at the edge of the water?


Nearby is a place called Monkey Mia. Mia means ‘place,’ but what the ‘Monkey’ part means we can’t guess. It’s known for the wild bottlenose dolphins who visit daily for a hand-out. They’re only given a small percentage of their daily fish requirement so they remain self-sufficient. We must admit it’s quite a thrill to have such close contact.

As the sun sinks into the water, we offer a toast to the wonders of Shark Bay.





So much for the fine weather. As we travel down the coast to Kalbarri National Park, winds kick up into a frenzy, promising (and delivering) rain. It is definitely dramatic, with huge, crashing waves beating against the rocky shore.






We don’t have to travel far inland to find the peculiar limestone pinnacles of Nambung National Park. Aha, so THAT’s what inspired the termite architecture designs. Running through the sandy fields is a narrow track for small vehicles to actually drive around the pinnacles. Somehow this feels more than a little bizarre.





But no more bizarre than the latest natural offering: the grass tree. Peculiar to southwestern Oz, it appears to be a type of yucca. In any case, it was designed by Dr. Seuss.



And finally we arrive in Perth, the only Big Act in Western Australia. It’s said to be the most remote capital city in the world, and having traveled thousands of outback and bush kilometres we’re here to tell you we believe it. Nearby is coastal Fremantle where Art’s antics landed him in the local pillory for a while. Hey—put that rotten tomato down!