Installment 7 Perth - Exmouth

Just an aside before I continue diarising.
There are about 4 prominent camper van makes, with the most flamboyant being the Wicked camper vans. Each one has a distinct theme. Currently from where I am sat I can see a rolling stones one, a Michael Jackson one, and a Hurtz (Play on hertz) They are painted in a street art way with lyrics or sayings adorning the sides.
For about 4 days from Perth upwards we seemed to bump into the Queen one. This had resulted in unprecedented airplay of Queen on the I-Pod and various queen songs being stuck in our heads. We haven’t introduced ourselves to the crew of said van yet – 2 English girls, and I’m terrified of offending them as I stroll around whistling “Fat bottomed girls”

To Monkey Mia…
Each day specific dolphins are fed 3 times a measured amount of fish. Girl dolphins, as boys are a bit rough, and limited fish so that they still have to hunt for the majority of their food. Anyway about ten of these creatures wander into shore, in about a foot of water and members of the audience are picked out and get to feed a fish to these creatures.
Man, I wanted to be picked badly. In my head I wanted to put my arm around it and get towed out to see, but under the circumstances feeding will do just fine.
I obediently followed all the criteria, regretted desperately not being cute and about 10 years old. I believe this was Sarah’s tactic when her and Bruce were there and she got picked. Almost the last fish in the bucket and I was selected. I must have looked like someone straining for attention in class, but without my hand in the air.
Anyway I gave her the fish, the video camera failed, but who cares, I fed a dolphin.














We drove up to the end of the cape of the Francois Peron national park. The sand was very deep and it was the first time we’d really had to sand drive in earnest, and it was a whole lot of fun.















Once again we had our own private beach, and I had my first crack at fishing. Due to the fish being incredibly intelligent and agile in these parts I was out witted. Though everyone I have told that I didn’t catch anything from that spot is incredulous. I suspect I need to do something slightly differently.















We walked up to the point first thing in the morning and had it to ourselves. We could see dolphins and spotted a Dugong in the water.














We called on an historic farm, and came away singing bohemian rhapsody.
Shelly beach and the stromotalites were knocked over, its time to get to the Ningaloo…















We are now 3 months into our holiday and have approximately 3 months left.
There is just that much to do, and we don’t have time anymore. Its time to get ruthless and this was the first time we’d been in weather that we could sit by the beach, a component normally considered essential whilst on holiday in Australia.

So we motored up to Exmouth with the intention of getting there early the following morning, this would give us time to sort out Siobhan’s PADI course, swimming with the Whale sharks, and most importantly finding a television that got SBS and would be open at 3 am for the England Vs Trinidad game.

PADI and whale sharks were easy, football however…
All of the rooms with a TV and SBS were gone. The pubs shut at 1am, and we were told that SBS needed a special arial.
In a panic we booked into the campsite and tried to find someone, anyone, who knew where it was being shown.
The evening drew on, and I was starting to get nervous and in a panic we tried our TV, and it turns out our aerial is the right aerial. Whilst fiddling around with it in the kitchen we got speaking with a Brazilian named Roberto, and he had hired a full size coloured TV with good reception, game on.
I ended up watching the match with a Swedish guy taunting me about what it was like being unable to score against TandT, so it was a bit of a relief when we scored. However it did give me license to stay up and taunt him and another couple of Swedes about not scoring as their game with Paraguay stretched on.
The next morning Siobhan somehow coaxed me out of bed and we went snorkelling down at Turquoise bay. It was probably best that I was still a bit drunk when she spotted a shark and encouraged me to jump in the water and swim after it.
Ended up seeing a number of sharks amongst a wealth of other things.
Next up, whale shark watching.
Picked up at 7.30 am and bussed down to a jetty on the edge of the park. The group consisted of:
Jacques Cousteau and his daughter, both who for some reason needed a knife on their legs before they would get in the water, a couple of families, 4 young Europeans and a Japanese mother daughter combo, which seemed a little ironic as Japan has just managed to persuade the world that whale hunting should be started again.
The daughter blew up a rubber ring for her mother before they got in the tender, and then they went snorkelling both also wore life jackets.
The sea outside of the reef was exceptionally rough and a few people started to turn green. We spotted 2 whale sharks that immediately dived before finally finding one that we could get in with.
About 8 of us stood on the back of the boat with a guide, the idea being we would jump in and the guide would locate the fish and stick her arm in the air, and signal its location.
We jumped in and spread out, then the guide signalled over we swam.
Good lord, this is one big fish, this one was around 8 Metres long. In a high adrenaline swim we powered after it, and I was desperately trying to take photos at the same time. We were all in a line, about 3 metres away from the leviathan. Suddenly it decided to turn and was heading towards us. In mass panic all I remember is flippers, bubbles and limbs, I looked down and all I could see was whale shark as it went under us.
From here on, my heart was beating incredibly fast every time I got in the water.
The Japenese pair having been hooked from the water were busy puking in the corner.
We then swam with another one that was about the same size, and this time I was told to go to the other side. I wasn’t sure how far, and so I was by myself looking underwater when this enormous mouth came out of the gloom towards me. I scrambled further over and let it swim past.
Next up was a baby one about 2 metres long, and we were in the water for about 20 minutes with this one. By now only about 6 of us were getting in the water as sea sickness was taking over. The last one was the absolute monster, around 10 metres.
Because he was about 3 metres deep we swam almost directly above him as he gently descended to the bottom about 12 metres below. He was however going at quite a pace and I was swimming almost flat out before giving up.
The buffet lunch was absolutely magnificent and by now most had recovered in the more serene waters in the reef, and everyone was getting along famously.

Installment 6 Freemantle - Northampton - Perth

My friend Emu Bitter

We received news that Neil (Hamburger) and Wayne (Wayno) my HP colleagues where in Perth on Monday night on some kind of junket, so we decided to stay and see if we could swap entertaining beard stories for a feed.
Getting to Perth was a piece of cake from Fremantle, but I decided to leave the mobile on the temporary connecting bus, notice it was missing at the first stop on the train, run back the 3Km to try and catch the bus before it left, made it just as it pulled away, translated my mistake through a fence that inexplicably blocked my access, had the bus searched (to no avail), rang the number (sadly the phone was set to vibrate), the bus left and a conductor gave me a number to call, his radio told home the phone was found, the bus was stopped about 200m’s away, and a chap ran back with the phone saying that he had seen it poking out the lady in front’s ass. Phone returned, and it was nicely warm to the touch. So, I got back on the train to go back to the first stop, no sign of Siobhan and realised it was not the correct stop, waited to next stop and realised the first stop was the one, ran back 3 Km to this stop, sat on platform confused, and then another train turned up with Siobhan on it, so off we went having only really wasted about 1 and a half hours.
Anyway, it turns out Burger and Wayno were having no better luck and had been stuck in Melbourne airport by fog, something of a rarity, and so we were far from late, and spent an entertaining evening despite duck being off the menu.

Next up – time to get down on the farm with Jo’s sister Donna and her husband Todd (and Daughters) So we headed up North via the Pinnacles and some other stops and camped by Coronation beach.
This one was slightly more popular than others we have visited and the old boy in his mad max style motor home and trailer next to us, actually had a satellite receiver propped up with bricks. I wanted to ask him about it, but he beat me to it in the morning as I set off for a quick run up the beach I was passed by said gipper heading in the direction of the toilets.
“Morning”
“G’day mate, can’t hold it in forever aye?”
On returning from my run and swim he enlightened me to my madness, and then as Siobhan stuck her head out of the tent, which admittedly is front opening and triangular and as such could me construed as a canine abode;
“She don’t bark, do she?”
Unfortunately his generator was stuffed, and after checking that:
“You’re not a certified Nissan generator engineer are ya?”
He packed up and moved to another site, because his back up generator was unsociably loud.
6 Years they have been on the run / move.

Next up was time to get down on the farm. Jo (Malane’s) sister Donna and her husband Todd and family have a farm about an hour and a half north of Geraldton. We got up there and spent a really nice time being shown around the farm and were fed a roast from a freshly killed lamb, which after our fairly limited menu (chilli > curry > steak > chilli etc) was manna from heaven. Fascinated by the goings on of the farm, it’s certainly a world away. Unfortunately the all important rains had not yet come, and were close to being the latest rain they had ever known. They looked like being at least 2 weeks away. Up until the realisation of the absolute dependence of things like the weather I was thinking that it really looked like the life for me (It’s in the blood – but I suspect farming in Wales has more rain (good) but is also cold wet etc, etc, etc) so methinks I’ll stick to bits and bytes.

Coincidently their farm bordered the hatstand ‘Prince Leopold’ lording over his divine kingdom – The Hutt River Province. Due to a constitutional loop hole, Prince Leopold decided to make his farm an independent country. Basically the Australian government tried to break him, and after he was almost bankrupted the government conceded that he was harmless and let him become independent. This done, he was free to create his own set of laws, and instead of setting up a casino, or any other money spinning ventures he built a post office and a church, the church being adorned with paintings in which the Prince and his family are depicted in a number of biblical scenes.
One Friday afternoon, perhaps after a can or 2 of Emu Bitter, he phoned up the ministry of Defence and declared war on Australia. Perhaps due to lack of resources against the might of the RAAF he wisely withdrew the declaration on the Monday. Presumably he is now an ally and I must check to see if he is considered a member of the coalition of the willing, and hence and Al Queda target.
Anyway we did the done thing and sent a postcard, bought a T-shirt and sat in the ceremonial throne.

We headed up the coast a bit and dropped in to the Kalbarri national park to do the Loop walk. I think both of us were a bit surprised how nice this was, basically a gorge walk following the river in a loop. We met our first feral goats and had a bit of a swim, all terribly pleasant.

At this point we did a bit of a U turn and headed back to Perth. A few reasons – Melissa was coming over from Melbourne for the weekend to see a mate, and we needed a TV for the world cup. We pretty much knocked over the drive in a day and cruised into Perth for early Friday evening. We checked into a backpackers and headed into town to meet Mel and her mate Jamie. I think we were a bit behind them in the drinking stakes and in Jamie’s own words he doesn’t get out as much as he’d like to and hence led the charge. By the time we met them Jamie was running around using a Kenny Everett gag that he’d seen on DVD the night before.
This involved running up to a woman, normally in mid conversation, and yelling in their ear;
“Do you like cocktails?”
“Sorry?”
“DO YOU LIKE COCKTAILS?”
“er, yes…”
“WELL, I’ve got one for you.”
By the time we’d got to the, (we are after all technically backpackers now) the elephant and wheel barrow, he had acquired a group of 3 women who had the uncanny knack of appearing 10 years older for every step nearer you got, and close up resembled salamis.
Anyway we watched some of Germany Vs Costa Rica and called it a night.
The following day we met up with Mel and Jamie at the casino for the Richmond Kangaroos game. I enjoyed recounting the nights events to Jamie‘s horror. Goodness it was a refreshing change as you well know, as normally it’s me running around like a headless chook
Richmond won and all we had to do was stay conscious for a further 6 hours in the pub and then we could watch the England Paraguay game. Despite listing badly we managed to stay up right, and I even managed to get through to Prys in the stands.
You can ask Siobhan what happened the next day, use “ceramic mug” as a reference.
Any way we managed to get out on Monday and drove to Denham near Monkey Mia, getting in about 8.00. Anyone would think the campsite hadn’t received visitors after 4 pm the way they kept referring to the lateness of the hour.
This is what we then discovered:

1. It is Australia V Japan, the first game Australia have played in the world cup for 32 years.
2. No pubs in Denham are open beyond 9.30 tonight.
3. The game starts at 9.00
4. Our portable television (purchased for just such occasions) does not pick up SBS in this spot.
5. The radio is only giving out the score every 30 minutes after the news.

So we sat and wondered what happened when at around midnight several caravans started making a lot of noise.
Turns out Australia once again prove their sporting prowess and genuine desire to win against all odds etc.
Come on England!
Oh and I eventually got too upset with my beard, and so off it came, but not before I shaved it into a religious Belgian for Bruce.

Installment 5 Karlgoorlie to Freemantle

Right o, instalment number 5…
Having spent another day in Kalgoorlie trying to overcome technical difficulties with websites and the like we took a quick look at the Super Pit.
Originally I’d thought the whole of Kalgoorlie had an enormous highway passing through it's centre that led to the constant ambient hum, similar to living inside the M25. It turns out the largest open cut mine is about 2 blocks off the high street. It’s a bit like when you see the Grand Canyon for the first time, you sort of know it's there, but on reaching the view point the sheer scale of the thing is breath-taking. It looked like little tonka trucks were slowly going in and out, but then an enormous Landcruiser went past one, or indeed underneath it. They had a couple of spare wheels lying about and they were in diameter about the length of our car.














We figured we should probably get down to the south coast and work our way up to Perth, so we cut across country. The Tigers were playing Geelong and the narrow but (an) historic victory caused me to turn off the radio a few times with nerves, and swerves.
Saw a Mallee Fowl sauntering about as well.
The plan was to get near to the Stirling Ranges, but just before it got dark we passed Wave Rock, so we dived in to have a quick look. It does indeed look like a wave in the same way that the beach defences in Portsmouth look like a wave, and it is my belief that the same contractors constructed both. Took the customary “surfing the wave” photo and carried on.














We rolled into a campsite about 8.00pm into a small agricultural town and the owners kindly turned on the kitchen camp light for us. Bit of a feed and a couple of glasses of box monster and the owners came out and asked us to turn the light off as it was getting late. Though I suspect our heated debate about some rubbish or other was probably the reason, and once more we were in bed asleep by 9pm.
Fuelled up the next morning, and the theme of going into a servo in the middle of “Butt F***” continued, as once again I was served by a young girl with a welsh accent.
Drove down to the Stirling Ranges and climbed Bluff Knoll, about 1,000 metres, but amongst the completely flat pastures provided a marvellous view. As usual a middle-aged bloke on his mobile phone was calling his disinterested family to tell them where he was. West Coast were playing – what was he expecting?














Drove on to Albany, a cute port/ holiday town, climbed the look out and then spent around 4 hours on the phone.
We scuttled north in the dark and found a bush campsite by the sea, and then it started to rain.
Next day – more rain, and more rain, and more rain. Looked at the giant Tingle and Karri trees and had a coffee in Denmark. As is my way I took a quick squizz at the notice board in Denmark, to try and get a feel for the town, and its fair to say that if you wanted to learn the mouth organ, Denmark is the place.
Once again our aged guide book ( You know, lonely planet that I bought on the way home from V2000 to plan the adventure that calls itself the Sydney Olympic addition) provided entirely conflicting information about backpackers in Pemberton. Ended up in a freezing “log cabin” , with a couple of welsh blokes and 2 East German Girls that were working in the rain to cut vines without any wet weather gear. I’m not sure it was what they had signed up for when they came to Australia. Also a mother daughter combo were the daughter stayed in bed the whole time whilst mum told us loudly that normally her husband paid for her to be in the Hilton, but this was O.K. She then kept borrowing our coffee and milk and sauce pan, despite there being a shop next door.
Next day we struggled with the internet again, and bought ourselves up to date with news on Rooney's foot.
We approached a couple of the fire look-out trees and attempted to climb them with varying success.


















Time for some luxury, so we got to Margaret River and got a self contained unit for a couple of nights, turned the heating up high and watched tv.
The next day was the “Wine Tour” with bush tucker tours.
I believe we led the charge and were suitably smashed about 11:30 am. We were then fed bush tomatoes, kangaroo and emu. The group was made up with 2 other couples like ourselves and 3 couples of retirees, and mysteriously a couple that consisted of:
Bill – a dinky dye Aussie in his 70’s who swigged from his bottle of wine on the coach, and was happy to impart his opinion on all and sundry.
Laura – an 19/20 year old French girl.
No one French has elderly Aussie relatives, and it appeared they had met in Sydney and were touring around together.
Siobhan tried asking Laura what the deal was, but got deflected.
We continued to ponder with the others that evening in the pub.














Open-mike at the local pub, and Ned one of the guys on the tour got up and banged out 4/5 numbers very impressively, and it turns out that its what he does for a living in Edinburgh. We must have been drunk because we promised to look him and Kimberly his girlfriend up when we go to Vicki's wedding in November. Stumbled back to the campsite with Dan and Louise. Good way to make albeit brief friends I reckon.
And my beard continues to grow.
Back to bush camping as we headed up towards Perth, with Siobhan nursing a hangover.
So we’ve just spent a couple of nights in Fremantle, seeing museums and got to the Subiaco last night to see Richmond make a mess of things in the last quarter against the Dockers. Still losing was probably safer as we got in the train with my Richmond Gurney a yellow island in a sea of Purple.














So, where next?
The end for now………