Search Results for: Margaret River

What has been happening in the world of Mr and Mrs C? You may have read that after 64 weeks we finally escaped Western Australia for a holiday. The original plan was to visit Melbourne and the Great Ocean Road. Replacing the trip that got cancelled back in March 2020. The trip that was to kick start our world travels. We know how that worked out.

Best laid plans, and all that

We planned to finally do the trip, had the accommodation and flights booked and along came Delta. And again, the trip was binned. Looking at the state of the internal borders in Australia, and places we could travel to and return to fortress WA from without quarantining, our options were few.

And so we found ourselves doing a road trip around the very beautiful Tasmania. Something I would highly recommend. Thankfully we were allowed to enter Tasmania, and return to Perth without quarantine at either end. Something of a luxury in Australia at the moment. Tasmania exceeded all our expectations. We had been to Hobart previously, and this time we had a car and really explored this beautiful small island.

Will we escape from Australia?

The holiday blues were somewhat ameliorated by hearing that airlines will recommence international flights out of Australia by the end of the year. The Australian government has committed to a plan to have borders open once we reach 80% double dose of the COVID vaccination. This is slated to be November. This is every State Premier except one. Ours. McGowan is refusing to budge and wants to keep Perth in its little bubble. 

This will not deter us as we now start seriously considering when to finally start our overseas travel. If the international borders within Perth remain closed through the start of 2022 we will road trip to Adelaide, perhaps FINALLY doing the Great Ocean Road trip, and then fly out to Asia from Melbourne.

On the move again

In news that was rather less exciting for us, and rather a blow, we got notice that our landlords were returning to Perth and decided they wanted to move back into the house we had blissfully rented for a year. Knowing how horrendous the Perth rental market is we were not relishing trying to find somewhere new to live. Thankfully, our existing agents found an apartment on the same road and we have recently moved ourselves there. Literally, we moved ourselves. A few trips in a car. A few more in a ute and we are in. 

The week we moved turned into a bit of a nightmare. Last year, thinking we were only around in Perth for a short while, we chose to rent a washing machine rather than buy one. Day 2 of the recent move saw us having the rental company move the washing machine from the old house to the new apartment. The evening of day 2 saw us returning after a walk to find the apartment under water. Literally under water. With more of it gushing out of the tap that was supposed to be connected to the washing machine. The pipe had not been correctly fitted and had come off whilst we were out. We did not even have a wash running. Cue me furiously trying to bail the water out whilst we waited for the emergency tradesman to turn up.

Getting back to normal

Two weeks later. After many carpet blowers blowing. A weekend in a hotel to avoid the noise and smell of wet carpets. And a complete refit of the underlay through the whole apartment and we seem to be back on an even keel. Hopefully all the dramas are now behind us and we can see out the remaining 5 months of our lease in relative peace. Once this lease is up, who knows what will happen. Vaccination rates continue to climb, both here and internationally. Countries are starting to open up for travel again. And even Fortress Australia looks to be rejoining the world.

Daring to dream

Some two years after leaving our home in Sydney to travel the world on an extended sabbatical, the dream may finally be coming true. And as was the “plan” two years ago, we will have no real itinerary. We plan to head to Singapore first and then spend a few months exploring south east Asia. At some point we will head to the vineyards of Europe and the islands of the Mediterranean before heading to the UK for a long overdue catch up with family and friends. Life is too short to be away from our loved ones for so long. 

But, before we get ahead of ourselves, we first have a few action packed months. A birthday each to celebrate in November and December. Another Perth summer to enjoy. A couple of trips to our beloved Margaret Riverwine region and a holiday to another of my happy places, Hamilton Island in Queensland. 

All of course, subject to this pesky virus.

I take a sip of my steaming coffee, the strong smell of caffeine mingling with the aromas of the eucalyptus and rose gum trees I am surrounded by. Curious kangaroos have come out to graze, and every so often take a sneaky upwards glance at me, assessing whether I am a threat. Perhaps sensing my peace, they nonchalantly disregard me, and continue grazing. The only noise to compete with their munching of the leaves is the twitter of birds high in the canopy above me. A kookaburra’s laugh sounding as though he is mocking me. A poor human who has to come away from his “real life” to enjoy this side of nature. A human who has come to spend a weekend in Busselton.

We are spending the weekend at Tree Chalets in Busselton. Staying in one of two eco chalets nestled amongst hundreds of trees and with enough space between them to have you thinking you are all alone. Marketed as “simple luxury”, each chalet is well appointed, with a quality of fit out you don’t see in many high end hotels. On the back deck there is one of the most impressive baths I have seen, but more on that later. There is also a Tesla charger, and judging by the amount of Teslas we see driving around Perth on a daily basis, I suspect these chargers will be popular.

Exploring Busselton

Busselton is situated some 2 and half hours drive south of Perth, and is somewhere we have called in at on many occasions, with its proximity to the beautiful Margaret River region. In recent years the foreshore has been tastefully developed with the latest addition, Shelter Brewery, providing a haven for craft beer lovers and pizza aficionados alike. I see that a Hilton hotel is currently in development and I hope they keep the build to a low level, as at present the skyline is not marred by anything higher than the local pine trees.

On our first day we ventured a couple of streets back from the foreshore and had lunch at Rocky Ridge taphouse. The original farm and brewery is located at Jindong, with the traditional custodians of the land being the Wadandi people. The tap house in Busselton is possibly amongst the most picturesque breweries I have been to. Built in a converted cottage, with a large garden at the back and plenty of shaded seats at the front, we spent a leisurely afternoon sampling a paddle of beers, of which there were over 20 to choose from, and had a cheeseburger, which are made by the legends of Margaret River Burger Company.

Looking Back on The Start

Back at the Tree Chalets, with my newly purchased growler from Rocky Ridge, I was able to have a cold beer on the deck, looking out to the trees, contemplating how much I had needed this break. I started 2022 with some clear intentions. Complete the work required to apply to be an Associate Certified Coach (ACC) with the International Coaching Federation, and finish my university studies. I have now done all I can for both and am awaiting the results. With this hard work behind me I am able to have a weekend with nothing on my mind. And it feels liberating. Sipping my drink, it hits me that I don’t have to be anywhere, or do anything, other than sit, relax and be.

And talking of relaxing, there is that bath. A huge, pristine enamel bath on the back deck of the chalet. A bath that fits two. With our chilled champagne, a self catered dinner of meats and cheeses, and a full bath, we spent the afternoon chatting through our last two years. The challenges everyone has faced, and what the next two years might bring. The world seems to be finally getting a grip on omicron. We are both now triple vaccinated. And borders are starting to open up. This is the most “certainty”, which I still say loosely, that we have had in a very long time. Dare we start to make plans?

As the sun slowly set, and the night sky appeared, it is easy to see why “dark skies tourism” is destined to be the next big thing in West Australia. With the majority of the population living in and around Perth, the regional areas have large masses of space with very little artifical lighting. The views of the milky way are quite astounding. Sit still long enough you are guaranteed to see at least one shooting star, and several satellites making their way across the galaxy.

Supporting Local Businesses

Back on earth, our immediate plan for Saturday was to explore the area around Busselton, and with that we found ourselves being greeted by Polly the kelpie dog, up at Whicher Ridge Wines. Cathy took us through a tasting of 5 wines each, a good mix of sauvignon blanc, viognier, shiraz, and cabernet sauvignon. We had agreed not to buy anymore wine on our travels across the state, simply because there is no way we will get through the stockpile we have at home. However, the wines were so good that we selected three to take away. 

Chatting with Cathy we got a feel for how tough the hospitality industry has had it, especially with the Western Australia hard border for the last two years. We have been described in various quarters as a hermit kingdom. It is hard to disagree. We have cut ourselves off from the rest of Australia, and the world, and businesses have suffered greatly as a result.

If you are going to have a weekend in Busselton, please get out and continue to support local businesses. In keeping with this, we headed down the road to have lunch at Hippo Lakes cafe. Another family run business, we were delighted to hear that they were BYO and promptly went to collect a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from the car. Hippo Lakes is in the process of obtaining a liquor licence and will eventually sell the very same wine, from Whicher Ridge. Businesses supporting businesses. 

The Busselton Jetty Swim

Our final day had us up early and heading towards the iconic Busselton Jetty. Today was the annual Busselton Jetty Swim, a 3.6km open swim around the jetty. Andrew at Tree Chalets had told us about how they start races “in the country”, which is with a shotgun. And he wasn’t kidding. We were there in good time to see a member of the local police force fire off his shotgun, prompting the 8am start to the race.

Some 38 minutes after that 8am start, the winner was leaving the water and crossing the finish line. A 19 year old local kid broke his own record. He has now won the race for the last 3 years, and apparently his preferred distance is 10k. Almost superhuman. I also had a personal connection to the race as my friend was participating. Not a swimmer, at least not until recently, Alistair had bravely entered the race knowing it would be far from easy.

Easy it certainly wasn’t, but I was proud to see him complete the race, achieving a massive personal milestone. He said that with his shoulder being in great pain, he swam the last third of the race with one arm. The lifeguards were doing their best to help and support Ali, perhaps even offering him an easy way out, but with a mental strength I am in awe of, he persevered, and he can now add this race to his impressive life CV.

Final reflections on a weekend in Busselton

My CV includes a long list of breweries I have visited in my life, and to mark the end of a great weekend away in Busselton we called back into the beautiful Rocky Ridge for a final coldie. Sat in the shade, we shared what we were both grateful for in life, and raised our glasses, toasting another great experience and planning for the next one.

A land of contrasts

Good day to you all. How have we been keeping since we last spoke? I suppose much of this depends on where in the world you are reading from. Our Southern Hemisphere readers have been warming up nicely as we count down to the festive season. And “oop North”? A lot chillier, I imagine. Seeing all the bobble hats and gloves at the Premier League just gives me the shivers.

To escape the thoughts of any shivers, we have been exploring more of WA. Somewhere that is a firm favourite for us (and thousands of others), and somewhere new for us. Last time we spoke I was writing about The Wheatbelt and Margaret River.

Rottnest Island

Today, we explore Rottnest Island and Ferguson Valley, two places that could not be much different to each other. Our visit to “Rotto” was to celebrate Mrs C’s birthday. Everybody who knows the island will not be able to think of it without bringing to mind small, little, furry marsupials. Quokkas have become world famous as everyone from me and Victoria, to Rafael Nadal attempt to get a selfie with them. Here is a shot from a trip a few years ago…

The Land of the Quokkas

When we first started visting Rottnest the quokkas were quite elusive and we had to cycle deep into the island to catch a glimpse. Over the years, this has changed a lot and now they meet you off the ferry and offer to carry your bags for you. OK, maybe that is stretching the truth a bit, but they are now ubiqitous and are very relaxed around humans. I did honestly see one eating a fried chicken drumstick. I am not sure what that will be doing to her tiny insides.

With the only traffic on Rottnest being the tourist bus, and having no natural predators on the island, quokkas are free to roam and basically do as they please. Which usually means running around your feet as you munch on your fish and chips in the pub.

Rottnest by (e)Bike

To burn off lunch, the absolute best way to see Rottnest is by bicycle. But not any old bicycle. On Victoria’s first visit to the island I told her, (which I thought was true from memory), that the island is relatively flat, and a normal push iron would do the trick. Well, it did. Until the first hill. And then the second. And third, fourth, and…

You get the picture. It wasn’t as flat as I remembered, and learning from that experience, we always hire electric bikes now. What a difference. Effortlessly gliding up the hills, and free wheeling down, the whole island is now your oyster.

An island that has to be seen to be believed. Imagine beaches and a sea that would only look real in a painting. Even that does not really do it justice. It is breathtaking. Perfect bays, secluded beaches, and a cobalt blue sea that looks very inviting. Inviting that is until you dip your toes in it. Even as warm as the day was, I was not ready to start experimenting with the Wim Hof method.

Sundowners on the Island

What I was happy to experiment with was the Happy Hour. There are not many things in life better than sat on a comfortabe seat, on the beach, sand in your toes, cold drink in hand as the sun sets. It is a gift that never gets old. A gift that gives you a pause for thought, to remind yourself to be grateful for this amazing planet.

We had two nights on Rottnest, once again staying at the exquisite Hotel Samphire. Two nights is never enough, but we can console ourselves that we are only a 30 minute ferry ride away. An island on our doorstep that always leaves you feeling you have been on an actual holiday. We will be back over in early 2024, showcasing the island to our visitors from the UK. When did you last ride a bike, Jane?

From Sand to the South West

In a land of contrasts, there is no contrast quiet as big as the island life of Rottnest, and the rural life of South West Australia. We were headed somewhere new for us. Described by a friend as a “small Margaret River”, we were very excisted to explore. Once again, Victoria hit the jackpot in finding us accommodation. We had two nights in “Minnie”, an off grid cabin on Skating Goose Farm.

I would have been happy just to sit on the deck with a bottle of wine, and follow the arc of the sun across the summer sky.

Wine Tasting in the Ferguson Valley

The bottle of wine would have to wait, we had wine tastings to explore. And we had some great wine tastings. The vineyards and wineries we visited were excellent. And busy. Driving around the quiet roads of Ferguson Valley, through towns such as Dardanup, you could be excused for thinking you were the only ones there. Where is everyone, you ask yourself? And then you arrive at a cellar door.

Ah, this is where everyone is. We braced ourselves for the inevitable question, “have you got a booking?” And we weren’t disppointed. We had no booking, but at Green Door wines we managed to get the only unreserved table for a lunch platter and a wine tasting.

Our second tasting was at Willow Bridge, just up the road. This was quieter, with us being the only visitors. I think Jules on the cellar door was just glad to have someone to talk to. We tasted the whole range of wines, with me being the designated “spitter”, as I was the skipper for the day.

In wine country, you will see signs asking “who is the skipper?”, conscious that when wine tasting it is all too easy to drink more than you should when driving. So, using the spitton, I was able to fully taste all the wines, without drinking them. Victoria seemed to be enjoying herself, and one hour turned into two as we were supplied with wine, and regaled with stories from Jules. She was hilarious.

Back for BBQ

Maybe it was a ploy by Jules, to ply Victoria with wine, so she purchased a few bottles. What Jules did not know was, Victoria will buy wines, regardless of whether she has been drinking, and we subsequently left with a box of 6 excellent wines.

On the way back to the cabin we called in at Wild Bull brewery and had a middy of craft beer each. I love these local breweries that you find in the country. Always so rustic. So welcoming. And a great range of craft beers. Wild Bull was no exception. But, one beer was all we could allow ourselves as we had a t-bone at home, waiting to be barbecued.

Gnomesville, Seriously

Can you imagine a tourist attraction that is just thousands of gnomes by the side of the road? In Ferguson Valley, Gnomesville is an actual place, signposted all over the valley for tourists. What started out as a bit of fun, and one gnome, has become one of Australia’s top 100 tourist attractions. I am not sure whether this is weird for Australia, or weird for the tourists. It has to be seen to be believed. Thousands of gnomes, brought from all over the world, all keeping themselves company in the forest. Some even have their own homes!

Farewell to Ferguson Valley

Like all good trips, this one was over way too soon. Two nights were a great taster of what the Valley has to offer and we are sure to be back. Before heading home we called into St Aidan’s winery for a tasting. That we got there at 10.59am, before they were even open, turned out to be a master stroke. Again, without a booking, there were few tables left. We sat by the window and as we waited for our wines, the cellar door soon filled up. Where do all these people come from?

The drive back to Perth was via Brugan Brewery, another new one for us, for a classic pub lunch of chicken parmi for me and chicken schnitty for Victoria. A great way to round out a great weekend.

Smell the Eucalyptus

Strolling through the park, as we started our usual weekend walk, the smell of eucalyptus was strong. There had been overnight rain. Heavy rain. The kind of rain that signals the changing of the seasons. The grass becomes a lot greener. The lake rises a little. The pelicans head north for warmer weather. Mating frogs call out to each other. A sound we haven’t heard in over a year. And the temperature has dropped. Oh yes, summer is slowly becoming a distant memory. 

When it rains, it rains

At home there has been a wardrobe change. Gone are the oppresive days of 40 degree heat. There is less need for shorts and an increased demand for the jumpers and hoodies that hibernate through the oppressive Perth summer. The flip flops get little use. It is time for boots. Long trousers. And a rain jacket.

When it rains in Perth, it rains. Torrential. Our apartment is on the upper level of two and is the first line of defence against the downpour. The sound is deafening. So much that we can’t hear the TV. It becomes a sound track all of its own. 

Makuru in Perth

This morning’s soundtrack is dominated by the cockatoos, congregating on the edge of Lake Monger. Squawking. It sounds like they are making great demands of each other. It sounds almost violent. Perhaps it is, in the bird world. They could learn a lot from their friends, the pelicans. Majestically gliding across the lake.

As we continue walking around the lake, we can feel the dampness in the air. We can smell it. The “white fellas” would call this Autumn. Arriving on boats from England, the colonists tried to replicate what they had at home. Forcing nature into the four seasons they called Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. Tried to grow the same crops. Perturbed as to why they didn’t take. Not considering that they were in a whole new world. A new land. A land that has been home to people for over 60,000 years.

And over those thousands of years, these First Nations people had worked out how to partner with the land. Work symbiotically. In harmony. They weren’t “in nature”, they were nature. Not for them the imposed four seasons of the colonists. The indigenous people of Australia align to a six season calendar. The changing weather, and changing landscape tells them that we are now in the season of Makuru. Represented by the colour blue, symbolising rain and cold weather. 

Makuru runs through June and July, at which point we will have Djilba, in August, symbolising the growth of wildflowers and plants. Our “winter”, or Makuru, will be spent in the Northern Hemisphere, hopefully enjoying a traditional summer. Although, from what I am hearing from up there, summer has yet to arrive. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty in thinking I will be living in shorts and t-shirts.

Exploring the Back Yard

Before embarking on our bi-annual trip to the UK and Europe, we have been doing more exploring in our own part of the world. I got to spend 4 days in Sydney. Unfortunately, not as a tourist. I was over for some coach training and spent most of the time in a classroom with a passionate group of coaches from across Australia. That said, our training was over at Manly Beach so each day I had the pleasure of the world’s best commute, crossing over on the iconic green and gold ferry.

Exploring Australia’s South West

A little closer to home we spent a long public holiday weekend in the South West. For once, we didn’t get as far as our beloved Margaret River. Home for the weekend was an eco cabin at Southcamp, a large brewery located just 30 minutes north of Margaret River. This was our first stay in Dunsborough, as we usually just pass through. And we got to see a lot more of this small town. Scratch the surface and there is a lot to enjoy.

Being lovers of good food, we thoroughly enjoyed our dinner at Blue Manna bistro, which I now know is named after a crab. Makes sense, for a seafood restaurant. Victoria had a delicious blue swimmer crab linguine. I also had linguine, with fresh seafood. After a period of 5 weeks of sobriety, this weekend we allowed ourselves a couple of glasses of wine. The chardonnay was a perfect accompaniment. 

Morning walks along the oceanfront, trying to spot the migrating humpback whales, in vain. Breakfast in one of the many excellent cafes dotted around town. Afternoons were spent in the cabin, reading. Isn’t this what long weekends are for?

Football comes to Perth

We also got to, finally, visit Optus Stadium in Perth. And I was underwhelmed. We were there for the football. An Italian extravaganza with AC Milan taking on AS Roma. Sadly, Optus Stadium was built for Aussie Rules so it is a round stadium. Not ideal for football as you are so far from the pitch. An Italian dinner was the obvious choice pre-match, and probably one of the only times I have had a night out, and gone to the football, without having an alcoholic drink. Our holiday health kick continued, with us indulging in non alcoholic Peroni.

Looking after body and mind

Part of the health kick has included reigniting our love for reformer pilates, something we did for a few years in Sydney. Having a studio so close to the apartment here in Perth was the perfect excuse and we have really loved getting back into it. I had forgotten quite how hard it is. But, great for my aging body. Regular gym sessions, weekly pilates, weekend walks, and the best part of 8 weeks of no alcohol and I’m feeling in fine fettle.

How long the fine fettle will continue is up for debate. Next week sees us head overseas to escape winter. Some long overdue family time, and then a few weeks exploring the best of Puglia and Sicily. I can almost taste the pasta and wine already. Apart from a long weekend in Bali, this will be our first overseas holiday in over a year. We are ready.

Ciao, ragazzi!

I was trying to remember whether I had heard of this place.  I have eaten at a lot of great restaurants in Sydney, but somehow, I found it hard to recall any memory of Berowra Waters Inn.  If I am totally honest, which I like to think is my default position, I don’t think I had heard of Berowra, or, as it turns out, its very pretty cousin, Berowra Waters.  I feel I should have read of it, being so close to home, and housing a restaurant that gets glowing reviews all over the world in various travel and food publications.  I do have a vague recollection of being passed a magazine article, whilst on holiday in the UK.  Somewhere I was told I would enjoy.  Of a restaurant in Sydney that you get to by seaplane.  

Now, there can’t be many restaurants in Sydney, fitting this description, even though I do know that the seaplane, based out of Rose Bay, does serve several restaurants up in the Northern Beaches area.  At over $600 a trip, it is somewhat of a luxury.  As we were staying on the water for the weekend, our arrival was a little less dramatic, yet still highly memorable.  At 1.30pm, a full hour after we were initially told to be ready (river time, apparently), we spotted Andy, our water taxi, in his little boat, coasting towards our mooring.

At least we guessed it was Andy.  With each house having its own private mooring, if somebody was heading in your direction, there was only one place they could park.  Outside our house.

A bit of a character, sporting a bedraggled pony tail, and a shaggy, somewhat out of control beard, Andy had the air of a man who has never had to don a suit for a work interview.  Quite a romantic notion for me, who has spent all his adult working life in this manner, toiling at various large, faceless corporate organisations, to earn the funds that feed my insatiable travel appetite.  A kind of modern troubadour, signing for my supper, to anybody kind enough to listen.

Transferring to the Berowra Waters Inn took us all of 5 minutes, quite an improvement on the 20 or so minutes it had been taking us to pass it when out, bobbing on the water, in our own little tinnie.  For the uninitiated, as I was before this weekend, a tinnie is a small boat that you can drive without a boat licence.  That turned out to be an adventure in itself.  Today’s journey, in a much faster boat, consisted of Andy regaling us of tales of life on the river, and the various occupants, which include no other than Cate Blanchett and Paul Keating.  In different houses.  Obviously. 

Other than the 3 private moorings the restaurant has, one of which was currently housing a boat that would set you back a cool $2m, and cost up to $20k to fill up with fuel, the Berowra Waters Inn is a very unprepossessing place.  No signage giving any hint to what is behind the floor to ceiling windows that stretch the length of the restaurant.  It is the smartly dressed guests sat at smartly laid tables, drinking flutes of champagne, that hint of the wonders inside.

We were greeted on the pontoon of the restaurant by the manager, and whisked through a very large brown wooden door, up the 12 or so stone steps, and into the restaurant.  With today’s lunch service only doing 16 covers there felt a kind of serenity that you don’t usually associate with restaurants that have a very open plan kitchen, as the Inn has.  The chefs appeared almost graceful, perfecting their works of art, before sending them out to hungry diners.

Our menu, as was everyone else’s, was a set 7 course degustation menu, and was presented like a little origami puzzle, so perfect that it felt wrong to open it.  As we were perusing the food we were about to experience, and that is the right word, experience, we reflected on degustation menus.  Different to the a la carte type of dining, the degustation menu forces you, if force is the right word when discussing world class food, it forces you to try things you probably wouldn’t ordinarily order.  I know for a fact, one of our party of two, and it wasn’t me, wouldn’t have ordered oysters, even though it was an amuse bouche, and definitely would not have ordered the “hapuka, mussels & herbs”, not being much of a fan of mussels.  What she wouldn’t have known beforehand, was that this would be her favourite course of the whole afternoon, and the “mussels” were dehydrated, if you can get your head around what that is.

Even before we had a morsel of food, we had our first drinks.  And it might possibly have changed my life.  The restaurant sells a selection of 3, custom made signature cocktails, in little inviting bottles that are hard to resist.  It was even harder to resist, nay, it was futile, once I discovered that one of the 3 cocktails was made on a base of single malt whisky, aged in Pinot casks.  Adding some lemon, and paperbark, (I still don’t know if this is an actual thing.  I would appreciate your input), a drink was produced that I will remember for a very long time.  The whisky was subtle, yet distinctive.  And whether it was the lemon, or the paperbark, or the combination of the two, I need to know how to make this drink.  My afternoon was made, and we hadn’t yet started on the food.

Over the course of the next few hours we had spanner crab, the afore mentioned hapuka and mussels, pork with apple and bacon, wagyu beef, goats cheese, and a frangipani sponge that took my breath away.  A 2015 Walsh & Sons Cabernet Sauvignon from the Margaret River in Western Australia was an excellent accompaniment.

Whilst time had been passing blissfully, the sudden arrival of the seaplane, coasting down the river, to the restaurant’s pontoon, brought into sharp relief that it must now be past 4pm, and almost the end of lunch service.  A lunch service that I was very lucky, and very grateful to have experienced.  Sadly, it was time for us to leave

As Andy whisked us home we were left reflecting on an experience that will live long in the memory, and long on the waistline.

Saturday – Day 1 – Perth to Cervantes (211kms)

Excited, we woke early and after a light breakfast we got an Uber out towards the airport. No, we weren’t flying today. We were headed to Apollo campervan rentals, on the outskirts of the airport. Being confined to the state of West Australia for the whole year, it was obvious many locals, known as sandgropers in these parts, had the same idea as us, and we all patiently waited our turn to get out and hit the wide open spaces.

On previous road trips we had always booked the “hi top” campervan. Small, but with enough room for two people. When I saw the van we booked this time I thought “good lord”. It looked much bigger than I imagined. Much bigger. It turns out we had booked a motorhome. 

The first day was one of our shortest in terms of driving distance, yet we managed to break it up as we eased into the holiday. Cruising up the Indian Ocean Road we had a stop in Lancelin for lunch. Apparently, Lancelin is “addictive” if the local tourism board is to be believed. I’m not sure I’d agree. After lunch at the Lobbster cafe (spelling intended) of a lobster wrap each which cost as much as a small deposit on a house, we were back on the road, headed to the fabled Pinnacles.

It wouldn’t take us many more days to understand that every National Park we entered would cost us $15. It was no different at the Namburg National Park, home of the Pinnacles. And it was worth every cent. A must visit on any road trip from Perth to Exmouth.

What a sight the Pinnacles are. Reaching up, out of the ground, like soldiers erect in the face of the blazing sun. Opting for the walk amongst them, we were able to get up and close to these limestone wonders that have been here for over 25000 years.

The town of Cervantes (population 527) is named after a ship that came to grief off the coast. The ship itself is said to have been named after the legendary Spanish author, which cleared up my confusion upon being greeted by Don Quixote and Sancho Panza on arrival. There are nods to Spain all across this small town with streets named after cities and rivers from the Iberian peninsular.

We stayed the night at the RAC Cervantes camp site. With a perfect beach front location, we ended our first day with a cold beer, sat on the beach as the sun slowly set on a great first day of the long road trip ahead.

Sunday – Day 2 – Cervantes to Kalbarri (378kms)

After a simple breakfast of Weetbix and a strong coffee, we were back on the road. A short time later we pulled into Jurien Bay (population 1761). Another little town that hugs the coast. We had a walk along the new jetty, completed in 2011 to replace the old jetty that was destroyed in the storms of 2003.

Leaving Jurien Bay, en route to Kalbarri, we drove past Pink Lake in Port Gregory. We had been hoodwinked into visiting a “pink” lake previously, in Esperance. That particular lake had not been pink for a long time, if at all. This was very different. Spotting the bright pink water through the bush we pulled over, following the lead of some other travellers and took a few pictures.

Some four hours after leaving Cervantes I was spotting as Victoria backed up the motorhome on the Murchison River Camp Site. A site that sits right on the Murchison river, with views across to the ocean. After plugging the van into the power, the first order of business was to get a cold pint and our thirst was slaked at the Kalbarri Hotel. A pub typical of small Australian towns. A front bar with a great choice of cold beers and a back “bistro” selling everything from “gourmet pizza”, to steak, seafood, and even a selection of Asian cuisine. These small towns must have a disproportionately high number of quality chefs. 

Dinner for us was at Finlay’s Fish restaurant. Thankfully, Victoria had the foresight to book ahead as we were greeted with a hand drawn sign at the door telling new arrivals that they were “fully booked” for the evening. Rustic and down to earth, Finlay’s is a fully outdoor restaurant. I use the term restaurant lightly as country pub is more the vibe. Live music rocking you through the Sunday Session and an “order yourself at the bar” kind of service.

And what would you eat being this close to the ocean? The fish and chips were quite possibly the largest I have ever seen. I had the fish basket which included some of the same battered fish, but also some giant prawns and calamari. With a bottle of Larrikin Chenin Blanc from Margaret River, we had a very good evening.

Monday – Day 3 – Kalbarri

A good sleep, breakfast, and coffee, and we were soon on the 30 minute drive to the new Kalbarri Skywalk, opened in 2020. The park entry fee is $15 (what did I tell you?) and on paying I was advised to drink lots of water as “it is expected to get up to 50 degrees out there today.” What we weren’t warned about, but soon learned, was how many flies there would be, and how insistent they would be that they set up home in your ears and nostrils. The cheap fly nets we had purchased some weeks earlier were a god send.

The new Skywalk comprises of two platforms that jut out imperiously across the gorge. Looking down upon what has taken millions of years to create is quite a humbling experience. Reminding us how short our visit on this earth is. No road trip from Perth to Exmouth would be complete without a visit here.

For those walkers amongst you there is “The Loop”. A walk that you must start before 7am due to the heat, and you have to carry at least 4 litres of water each. People have sadly perished on this hike so it is to be taken very seriously.

A  5 minute drive from the Skywalk car park is the entry point for “Nature’s Window”. Walking the 800 or so metres, down a fairly precarious path, I can only imagine the line of “instagrammers” had we been living in a COVID free world. This is the kind of sight I have seen people queue a long time for, just for their chance to get the perfect shot for the ‘gram. Today, we were able to walk down and plonk ourselves right in the window for the perfect shot. 

Back at the campsite, sitting under the awning of the van, we had a simple lunch of pasta and wine. With the warm breeze, the sounds of birds all around, and the ocean lapping the shore not far from here, life couldn’t get much better.

Tuesday – Day 4 – Kalbarri to Carnarvon (448kms)

Tuesday started with the pelican feeding on the Kalbarri foreshore. The pelicans have been coming to this spot since the 1970s when a local fisherman used to throw his leftover catch to the waiting birds. As if they all synchronised their watches, the pelicans waddle over at bang on 8.45am each day.

Following a short, very interesting talk about the pelicans by one of the volunteers, who knew they had hollow bones and could fly for 24 hours, they were rewarded with small fish, thrown by an eager line of children.

Our destination today was Carnarvon. A very long drive, on very long straight roads, was broken up with a stop at the famed Billabong roadhouse, taking advantage of some of the cheapest diesel we had seen, $1.17 per litre. Also, I must confess that I have a thing for roadhouses. Maybe gleaned from my very first backpacking trip when I traversed the country on the long distance Greyhound buses that pulled into roadhouses at some ungodly hour. Whatever time of the morning it was I always found myself hungry and hankering after a meat pie. Not much has changed, but it was a bacon and egg roll this time. 

My love of roadhouses is not shared by Victoria, so once both the van and I were refuelled, we were back on the road to Carnarvon. 

Sometimes, you just need the simple things in life. Woolworths, a bottle shop, and a big banana. Thankfully, Carnarvon had each of these, as it didn’t have much else. Described as the fruit bowl of Australia, it is a sadly uninspiring town.

Using the town simply as a place to break up two long travel days, we stayed at the Winter Sun Caravan Park. A large site but relatively empty, we pitched and spent a relaxing day reading and sharing a cold bottle of wine.

Wednesday – Day 5 – Carnarvon to Exmouth (365kms)

The best way to start the day on a road trip? A homemade bacon, sausage and egg butty. Delicious. A couple of coffees and we were on our way. A fairly short drive today, just 3 and a half hours. Refuelling in Carnarvon, at $1.27 a litre, we drove to Exmouth in one shot, apart from switching drivers.

When I travel and finally arrive somewhere, places never look how I imagined them. First impressions are a big thing, and sometimes, like Kalbarri, I am immediately charmed. More often, I feel like I felt on arrival in Exmouth. An undercurrent of disappointment after looking forward to being here for so long. 

I envisioned a small, bustling town. Somewhere nestled amongst would be the RAC Exmouth campground. Exmouth is on a peninsular with the town side on the east. This does protect the town from the worst of the wind that rattles towns up and down the west coast. The camp site had been impressively upgraded in recent times. A brand new, large camp kitchen and a lagoon style swimming pool. I can imagine that it will be even better in a few years when the newly planted trees have grown large enough to provide some shade from the unrelenting Exmouth sun.

In the absence of trees we decided our best option for shade would be the Froth Brewery. A great choice as it turns out. A short 10 minute walk from the campsite, albeit in intense tropical heat, we were soon sat with one of the many craft beers brewed onsite, swiftly followed by a tasting paddle each. Lunch at Froth was Spanish mackerel and chips. Mine beer battered, Victoria’s grilled. Both delicious. 

The afternoon heat saw us taking a swim in the new pool on the campsite. This was going well, until someone’s mother turned up, complaining that someone had deposited a turd in the pool. With thoughts of the water that had gone into my mouth as I had been swimming, we beat a hasty retreat.

Pushing thoughts of turd infested swimming pools aside, in the evening we headed to Adrift Cafe. Such is the power of Instagram, despite being over 13 hours drive from home, I already felt I had been to Adrift. I had been following their posts for a while and was looking forward to trying it out for ourselves.

Sharing a few entrees, we had the tempura battered prawns, the calamari with a nam jim sauce, and a bruschetta. A bottle of Pinot Grigio and lemon meringue for dessert completed a great evening.

Thursday – Day 6 – Exmouth (124kms)

After breakfast in the van we drove the 45 minutes to Turquoise Bay, paying $15 to enter the National Park (sound familiar?). As you would expect on Ningaloo Reef, the snorkelling was excellent but despite spying a turtles head popping up for air we were unable to locate her in the water.

Lunch was on the beach, Victoria popping back to the van to make us a picnic of a ham and cheese sandwich. Simple pleasures. Simple life. Very enjoyable.

In the evening we called at Whalebone Brewery, a short walk from the RAC Exmouth camp site. On the way there Victoria made me smile by saying, “I hope they have aircon”. When we got there she discovered it was just a large converted shed with nothing but outdoor seating areas, some of which were thankfully in the shade. 

A very rustic place, but again so very enjoyable. We each had a couple of very cold beers. I tried an excellent NEIPA and a pale ale. Victoria quaffed a couple of the Lighthouse Lagers.

A short walk from Whalebone and we were at Whalers for my much anticipated birthday dinner. And what a success it was. A lovely outdoor restaurant, part of a resort, serving great food. Chilli mussels were followed by an excellent seafood spaghetti. Delicious. 

Victoria had scallops to start and “reef and beef” for main, enjoying them both. Having started the meal with a glass of bubbles we soon moved onto a bottle of Riesling. 

An amazing evening was put to bed with the last of the whisky I had brought from Perth in my hip flask. I drifted off to sleep wondering how Santa would get into the van in the night, and what he might leave for us.

Friday – Day 7 – Exmouth (Xmas Day)

Celebrating my birthday somewhere new has almost become a tradition. And with it comes the happy ritual of Victoria cooking up an excellent bacon, egg, and mushroom butty for breakfast. Who knew good black pudding would be so hard to come by in Australia?

Following happy video calls with family, and after opening a couple of birthday presents, we had another ritual to complete. The “beer on the beach” picture we always take on Xmas day.

For this we drove to Bundegi beach, a long stretch of sparsely populated sand. Hats on, Emu Export at the ready, and smile! Emus are obviously a thing in Exmouth and they became a common sight for us around town. There was even a family that casually strolled through the camp site each day.

Knowing all would be closed on Xmas day we had stocked up and had plenty of food and drink for us to while away a pleasant day. Grazing on food. Drinking cold beers. And cooling down with dips in the, newly cleaned, pool.

After a dinner of steak and halloumi cooked on the camp BBQ, I had my new birthday whisky to enjoy. A customary nightcap preceded an early night, ending a perfect birthday.

Saturday – Day 8 – Exmouth to Coral Bay (153kms)

An early start, and a quick refuel of the van and we were back on the road for the one and half hour drive to Coral Bay. Sadly, we were now on the return journey, heading back south.

On arrival, I was immediately charmed. Coral Bay is the kind of place you dream about. The kind of place that lots of places were like before becoming “discovered”. A single road in and out, passing the one pub as you slowly make your way into a coastal settlement with a population of 207. Yes, 207. I must have met most of them through daily visits to the bottle shop, bakery and small supermarket that make up the “town”.

Coral Bay is what I expected Exmouth to be, but wasn’t. Despite hearing from people how great Exmouth was, Coral Bay is the place we would definitely return to.

A wide, pristine beach slowly meets the sea that has colours that have to be seen to be believed. Even more impressive than Turquoise Bay. We spent the afternoon snorkelling. Walking in from the beach, side stepping the sting rays lazily resting in the shallow waters, we were immediately immersed in a living aquarium. As the sandbank falls away, and pockets of both cold and warm water wash over you, you are immediately snorkelling over the nearby coral, with an abundance of marine life. 

Sunday – Day 9 – Coral Bay

After a simple breakfast of Weetbix and coffee at the van, we had another day in the water. Choosing to snorkel in a different location on the beach we found more coral, and even more fish. The GoPro performs very well in the water but a lot of the photos do not capture the majesty, and colour of everything you see under the water.

Being by the seaside means fish for lunch. At Fin’s cafe I had an excellent battered snapper burger and Victoria had battered snapper and chips. As Fin’s is BYO we took a couple of cold beers from the van. Simple and heavenly.

With an early start on the road in the morning we enjoyed another glorious sunset, had a BBQ on the camp for dinner, complemented with a few glasses of Riesling. Over my whisky nightcap, Limeburners Peated Cask, I contemplated what a great couple of days we had in a paradise called Coral Bay.

Monday – Day 10 – Coral Bay to Shark Bay (Denham) (556kms)

Up and off for 7.15am, refuelling and getting the 6 hour plus drive underway. Victoria started the day as skipper as I finished my second coffee of the morning. After a couple of hours we switched drivers, refuelling at the BP service station in Carnarvon, not far from the camp site we stayed on not too many days earlier.

A final switch of driver just 90kms from our home for the night, saw Victoria driving us into Denham, population 754. A small, cute, seaside town, right on the seafront. The campsite was in a great location, as was our pitch, even if the van seemed a little too big for where they put us. It could be fun driving in and out, amongst all the tents and utes parked around us.

With our tummies telling us we needed lunch, we took ourselves off to the Waterfront Hotel, securing a couple of well needed cold beers. We would need to make alternative arrangements for lunch as we had missed the kitchen by 6 minutes, getting there at 2.36pm. A packet of Nobby’s nuts and a ham and beetroot wrap (minus ham) from the service station next door had to suffice.

The evening saw us with cold beer, a takeaway pizza and a prime spot on the beach for the sunset. We sadly contemplated how close we were to the end of a great trip, but talked about things that we were grateful for. We have a daily gratitude practice and even reflecting on things that may seem insignificant helps with our overall well being. 

Tuesday – Day 11 – Denham (50kms)

If you have heard of Shark Bay, you will have heard of Monkey Mia. We woke early with a sense of anticipation, driving the 25 minutes to Monkey Mia National Park, ($15 EACH this time), for the dolphin experience. Along with over 200 others we were there for the first feeding at 7.45am.

There we were, quietly hoping for a morning of oohing and ahhing over lots of frisky dolphins. Then, we waited. And waited. And waited some more. At 10.30am, with no dolphins in sight we called it a day and headed back into Denham.

Whilst at Monkey Mia we discovered that the dolphins had been rather elusive recently, with only one turning up the day before, and a run of 3 days without any being spotted.

I am not sure how they calculate the 99% success rate of dolphin “attendance”.

The evening made up for the disappointment, with a fabulous dinner at The Old Pearler restaurant. Of the places you eat on your road trip from Perth to Exmouth, this is a must visit. The only restaurant in the world made from coquina shell, it also has an interesting booking policy. No website. No booking app. Just Wayne’s phone number that you have to call and see if he has room for you. We even saw a lot of people speculatively walk in and ask for a booking on future nights. 

“Call Wayne”, was the stock response for everyone.

Thankfully, Victoria had called Wayne the day before and we had a great evening of seafood and BYO cold wine from the bottle shop conveniently located just across the street.

As Wayne came out to help clear some of the tables in the small restaurant he was asked, “do you make everything yourself, Wayne?”

“I do,” he proudly replied.

“Do you?”, said the daughter. “I thought you bought the cheesecake.”

Wednesday – Day 12 – Denham to Geraldton (420kms)

Our penultimate day of holiday, and one that we knew wouldn’t hit the heights of the ones that had gone before. Nothing against Geraldton, I am sure it has a lot to offer, but we were just using it as a stop over to break the long journey back to Perth up.

Heading out of Denham we made a very short detour to Hamelin Bay, home of the stromatolites. The oldest fossils in the world, dating back some 3.5 billion years, Hamelin Bay is one of only two places in the world to see these living marine fossils. I would recommend a visit as you are in the area.

We were soon back on the road and when we finally got to Geraldton, it wasn’t just the van that needed refuelling. Walking through the heart of Geraldton we came across Cafe Fleur, and had a fabulous lunch.

Our home for the night was the Double Beach camp site, slightly out of town, in Cape Burney.

Thursday – Day 13 – Geraldton to Perth (420kms)

After a breakfast of a muffin, hash brown and a strong coffee we were on the road for the final time. 

Our drive was just over 4 and half hours, and by lunchtime we were back at Apollo Motorhomes near Perth airport. It certainly was strange being back amongst city traffic. For long stretches of time over the last 2 weeks there was no one ahead of us, or behind us on long, dusty stretches of road. On the wide, often empty stretches of road up north, you often forget how big the motorhome is.

With a tinge of melancholy we bid farewell to Bessie and promised we would be back in the future to take her on another long road trip.