The Ocean Road Home

As fun as it is to rattle one's innards and car alignments on endless, unsealed, washboard gravel roads, we needed a see change for the last days of the trip. So this includes gritty mining port cities of Port Hedlund and Karratha. They seem to exist totally for the export of mined iron ore but I do applaud the permanent residents (as opposed to the fly-in,fly-out workers) efforts to improve quality of life. Art programs and art galleries featuring Aboriginal artists work, community programs and Target stores. I'm afraid their greatest offering to us was real beds, real showers and a chance to do a bit of laundry. We stayed at the holiday home of the CWA (Country Women's Association, see 3-28-09) a pleasure and a bargain at $40 in a city where a basic box hotel is $200 a night.

If Port Hedlund exists for mining, Exmouth exists for tourists. Ningaloo Marine Park is such a wonderful change from the grit of the interior. There are beautiful bays with snorkeling amongst the coral almost at water's edge in shallow, moderate waters. A squall followed us in, so it was two days before water activities became fun or even recommended by park staff. Of course, this did not stop Mr. Intrepid from giving it a go each day anyway. I don't know how our tent, anchored into sand, didn't blow away...even with us in it. What we didn't get to do was swim with the sharks. Whale sharks, that is. They eat krill, not people, and winter in Exmouth. They're a big draw, understandably, but expensive also. The official operator asks $380 for the couple of hours worth of thrill. I'll just feel my heart speed up looking at stock photos.

Carnarvon, the green stop of the vacation. Another CWA unit, no where near as homey as Port Hedlund, but an excellent base for exploring as it is located right downtown. Carnarvon has just the right conditions to be able to grow crops year round. In fact, 80% of all winter produce for the state comes from this area. We toured a banana plantation, which grows relatively few bananas compared to other crops, and learned heaps about how farming is done from underground water sources which are alloted by a shire water scheme. Very interesting. We visited every produce stand open on every farm hoping to stock up on farm fresh fruit, vegetables, herbs, eggs and ice cream. We hiked along a one-mile jetty and strolled through a sheep shearing station museum.

This really ended the exploratory part of the vacation. We had already visited some of the spots between Carnarvon and Perth ( see The Old Pearler, 2-13-09) so we broke up the long ride home with a stay at the Old Priory hotel. It's an old convent school that functions as an upscale country pub on beautiful old-growth property. Kind of a halfway house back into civilization as Kevin watched rugby in the pub and I lazed in a heated room drinking Baileys and watching Christmas movies (Christmas in July, the southern hemisphere's answer to Hollywood's northern version) and each having a good time.

Random Photo #1: Bound and determined to make the most of every possible experience this trip, Kev spits in the eye of Fate (or was that his own eye?) to stand at the very edge of a gorge eating fresh prawns. He would have called his stockbroker if we could have gotten cell phone reception. (OK, not really. But it sounds good, anyway.)

Random Photo #2: OZ has a thing for giant tourist landmarks. Meet Mr. Egg, a bit larger than Mr. Prawn, more colorful than the giant Guitar, but not as colorful as the giant Banana but not as sweet as the giant Pineapple. etc., etc.

Random Photo #3: Not to be confused with the giant landmarks in Photo #2, but there are oodles of these giant termite mounds in the Pilbara. Somehow, I hadn't associated termite mounds with this continent before this trip.

Random Photo #4: The Faithful Steed. Coated in red dust and now missing a tailpipe. Kev's coworkers had bets that the old jalopy wouldn't make it to the end of the trip. We're kind of amazed ourselves. Had a Plan B if the old gal gave up the ghost along the way--it entailed looonng hikes with whatever we could carry on our backs.
Advanced aged and creaking parts never seemed to deter Kev from driving 120 kph on the most wretched of roads. Hail Mary, full of grace...

North for the Winter

Headed north for warmth during a winter vacation--that's southern hemisphere talk for you. Headed to the Pilbara, where the romance--and grit--of the outback starts to come alive. It takes about ten hours of driving through nothing to start seeing widening in the roads that are/could-be ghost towns, endless brown dirt turns to endless red dirt, medium brush turns into small brush and lonely roadhouses are prominently marked on maps.

Pretend for a moment that you are Jed Clampitt aiming your gun at a critter, pull the trigger and discover gold. Red gold. Iron ore and jasper rock.

This part of the state-containing little more than kangaroo and a few "black fellas"-- could have been sold off for a few bucks and some bright beads had not a couple of geologists come through and found their idea of a playground. Iron ore makes big bucks and madmen of all who toil in the hot sun (one area had 160 consecutive days over 100F in the 20s) in the industry that keeps this state financially viable. The LARGE earth moving equipment and vehicles seem to fit in with the sharp spinifex brush. Good thing, too, as it is quite a fact of life here, even usurping generals-on-horseback statues as a favorite piece of community art at the visitor centers. We toured an open pit mine and gawked in amazement. We posed for photos by 10 foot tall ($30K) Goodyears like all good tourists.

And we collected some of the rocks that make this land unique.

You can't help yourself, its much like collecting pretty shells at the beach. Marble Bar is unbelievably exotic in the way it plainly and precisely demonstrates how strata developed on the Earth's surface. It's actually jasper rock, but throw water on it and indeed it looks like a marble worthy of any fancy palace. But look, don't touch. The extreme age of

this rock and Aboriginal importance of the place make it a protected

aspect of the area, so deemeth the federal government.

Oh, that red dust is fine and insidious. Who knew there was enough gap around the door handle to allow this earthy powder to spread out like a bouquet around it? Our clothes and hair appear to be permanently recolored, I don't even bother changing. And other than the windshields, the car won't get cleaned either. You and I need to visit a few national parks yet, as well as take an ocean drive, before real life and rain change the vision.