Beth and Mark's Gap Year 2014: Back to the beginning- 15 Nov to 22 Nov

The last time we were in Esperance was 15 years ago, and the time before that was 30 years ago. On each of these occasions I came away awestruck with the beauty of the place. Since then I have travelled the world, seen much more of Australia and am older and less impressionable. You know how you had a movie that you loved as a youngster, then you see it again in later years and it is not quite how you remembered it, in fact it is embarrassingly bad. Well I was half expecting that experience with Esperance, but no, the things which so enchanted me about Esperance way back then still do the same for me today. The coastline here is just magnificent, and certainly for me as nice as anything I have ever seen. What has changed about Esperance, and I am still undecided whether it is for the better or not, is that it has grown considerably and is no longer a little fishing town that just happens to have the nicest coastline in the world. Hyden I thought was struggling with its identity somewhat. Was it a farm town or a tourist town? No such struggle for Esperance, it is very clearly a tourist town, and there seems to be quite a bit of money being spent to ensure it maintains its tourist profile.

One of the areas benefittng from this largesse is a cycling trail along the coast, and Beth and I took full advantage of this for 10km (plus 10 coming back of course), only on two legs rather than two wheels. Mile after mile of stunningly beautiful beaches, so it really didn't feel like we had covered 20 km at the end of the day (the absence of significant hills possibly also helped). We also took a long walk through the Esperance wetlands which was quite interesting. The last two visits to Esperance we have taken a boat trip out to Woody Island, but this seems to have become quite popular, and this is reflected in the price tag, which even allowing for inflation seems to have risen sharply. We decided to give it a miss this time and rely on fond memories.

Beth was quite taken by a whale sculpture recently installed on the beautifully rejuvenated foreshore and decided to visit the gallery of the local artist who created the really interesting glass features for the sculpture. Needless to say she was also impressed with what was on offer at the gallery, but showed remarkable restraint by purchasing only a little. I asked the artist where the money was coming from to fund all the seemingly very expensive public works taking place in town. She answered "Royalties for Regions". To which I said "Ahh", and gave a knowing nod. Exactly why I did that I don't know, because I actually didn't have a clue what she was talking about, although I had seen that term used before in the context of regional investment. Clearly this meant public spending of some sort, so Beth's interest was piqued and out came the research tools (iPad and Google). It seems that through the Royalties for Regions program, 25% of WA mining royalties or $1b (whichever comes first) is allocated each year to fund regional improvement, essentially through grants. Since we have been in the west, we have heard the locals endlessly crying poor because only 40% of Western Australia's GST revenue is returned (this number varies depending upon who you speak to), while other states are receiving 100% or more, and this is seriously curtailing essential investment in infrastructure to cope with the growth of Perth. Sounds like the government propaganda machine has been very effective in duping its constituents. Make the Commonwealth the bad guy for the city votes, but keep spending big time in the regions (at the expense of city infrastructure investment) to ensure the country vote is secured. Methinks that the principles of an egalitarian tax system may have been misplaced in this neck of the woods. Oops!!! I am meant to stay away from politics and religion, aren't I?

After the luxury of tourist town Esperance, the wilderness again beckons and we head all of 60 km along the coast to Cape Le Grand NP for a couple of nights. But along the way we call into Stonehenge. Yes, you heard right, Stonehenge. But unlike the one in Amesbury, England, this one isn't tumbledown, missing bits and pieces and generally looking 5000 years old. It seems that a few years ago a Margaret River vintner decided that it would be a clever gimmick to set up an exact replica of Stonehenge (as it would have looked several thousand years ago) at his winery, so he engaged a granite quarry in Esperance to cut and supply the stones. All was going swimmingly until the winemaker realised that he really did not have the $500,000 required to transport these stones to Margaret River. Problem was that he didn't realise ths until after all the rocks had been quarried. I presume hat there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth, but at the end of the day a saviour came in the form of Farmer Brown (I can't remember his real name) across the road from the quarry. "Why don't we build Stonehenge here on my farm in Esperance?", said Farmer Brown, and that is what happened. So for the princely sum of $10 we got to see Stonehenge as it may have been many moons ago, including cows. Very weird.

The camp ground at Lucky Bay in Cape Le Grand NP was superb, with wonderful coastal views, shady sites, gas barbecues and even those most rare of commodities in national park campgrounds, flushing toilets and showers. But given that we had only 4 of each to share amongst about 80 people we weren't getting too excited. The showers were also solar heated, so tended to be coolish at best in the mornings. Oh well, still better than the flannel wash with a thimble full of water in the confines of our trailer which is our normal fare in NP campgrounds. The other wonderfully surprising treat at lucky bay was a trailer cafe (The Lucky Bean) parked on the beach serving quite acceptable coffee. Quite a concession by the National Parks folk I think to attract tourists who might not otherwise come to a National Park. Another less welcome concession is allowing vehicles onto the beach. The beauty of this gorgeous beach and the joy of a walk along it is diminished somewhat by the stream of traffic whizzing back and forth. Oh well, those folk are probably bemoaning the fact in their blogs that you cannot get away from coffee shops even out here.

Lucky Bay is situated almost in the middle of a coastal walk trail running from Rossiter Bay in the east to Le Grand Beach in the west and claimed by the NP folk to be 15km long. But mysteriously, the NP folk also suggested 10 hours be allowed to complete the walk one way (1.5 kph is pretty slow going). Our mission of course was to complete the walk both ways (ie 30k) in the two days at our disposal. Turns out this was a mission impossible. The walks were tough going, but the distances were also significantly understated. We think that the 15k distance quoted was as the crow flies, and there were very few straight lines on the tracks we took. Nonetheless we did our 30k of walking, which I think covered about 70% of the track. The trail took us along beautiful beaches and up and over ancient granite headlands and really did provide us with a new and sensational vista at every turn, and again we were treated to magnificent displays of wildflowers. We had a ball, the only downside was that Beth discovered that she is not quite as impervious to ticks as we thought. She is now sporting two bites from the nasty little critters, and there are two less ticks in the world after they were pulverised once found.

We continued our habit of coincidentally catching up with new friends we have met along the way. Our Swiss friends from Fitzgerald River were at Lucky Bay as were our Newcastle friends from Stirling Ranges, and a young English couple we befriended at Esperance were also there. It was a nice little international campers reunion.

Really on the homeward stretch now because we are about to head across the Nullarbor. We toyed with the idea of taking a 4wd "shortcut" from Esperance to Balladonia, but reports were that the road was pretty bad, and the weather looked a bit threatening so we chickened out and went the long way through Norseman. Nothing terribly interesting about Norseman, another WA gold mining town which has seen better days. I thought the story of how Norseman got its name was quaint though. Evidently back in the late 19th Century, a prospector was making his way through what is now Norseman when his horse pulled up lame. Upon inspection of the affected hoof, the prospector found that a lump of gold had become lodged behind the shoe (and there was plenty more where that came from). The horse's name was Hardy Norseman, and the rest is history. I often get stones in my shoes, perhaps I should check them before flinging them away.

Our first stop on the Nullarbor is Balladonia, which is not very exciting, just a roadhouse with space out the back to park your van, but it was comfortable enough and the showers were hot, so no complaints. Just as we were finishing our setting up for the night we heard a roar coming from the west which sounded a bit like a fighter plane. The black clouds in the distance indicated an approaching storm, but the roar sounded much closer. As I was pondering this irregularity, a huge dust storm, which was the source of the roar descended upon me and left behind a thick coating of fine dust on everything it passed over. As I shook off my dust blanket I could tell from the anguished noises coming from inside the trailer that Beth also had been caught unawares. The open mesh windows of our trailer did very little to hinder progress of the dust and in no time at all dunes were forming on the bed and kitchen benches (perhaps I exaggerate a little). Whilst I was pondering how to clean this all up the real storm snuck up on us, and in a trice the dust in the air was replaced with enormous rain drops driven almost sideways by the wind. Luckily Beth was less inclined to ponder and more inclined to act, so she had already put up the barricades against the storm when the rain hit, thereby preventing the conversion of sand hills to slurry heaps. Despite the storm persisting we managed to clean up and even prepare a hearty meal (barbecued vegetables peppered with grit). As we ate our dinner we marked Balladonia down in our little book of places that there is no real need to visit again.

At one stage we contemplated a leisurely week long crossing of the Nullarbor, but now that we are here we have abandoned that thought and determined to travel our agreed maximum 500km per day, which means that our next stop is Eucla, with a stopover at Cocklebiddy for coffee and a driver change. No real excitement to report regarding this trip. We saw people taking selfies at the sign indicating the start of the longest straight stretch of road in Australia (90 miles), which I guess makes sense because that sign is probably the most interesting thing to see on that stretch of road. Like most of the fuel stops on the Eyre Highway, Cocklebiddy doesn't really have a lot to recommend it. It is not the vision splendid, and the food will never win any awards, but it is lovely to have somewhere to stop and rest and enjoy a dreadful cup of coffee. A funny thing happened whilst we were sitting enjoying such a break. A lady came in and asked the attendant in a thick Germanic accent whether they sold hot dogs. Quite a reasonable question you may think, and the answer was yes. Good, I will have two please, they are for my dogs. Ok, now it is getting a bit weirder. The attendant then offers the suggestion that they also have beef sausages which may be more suitable, to which the German lady replied, "but are they good for dogs?". Why an attendant at a Cocklebiddy hamburger bar would know the relative health benefits of hot dogs vs beef sausages for dogs is beyond me, as is how anybody could think that there is anything less healthy than a hot dog. After a bemused look as response from the attendant, the German lady decided that hot dogs must be the answer. The attendant (I think in jest) asked if she would like sauce on the hot dogs. Oh goodness me no, scoffed the German in disgust at the very thought, but could I please have mustard and mayonnaise. She wasn't joking!!!! What a bizarre transaction, but splendid theatre for us, we almost stood and applauded.

Eucla gives us our first glimpse of the ocean for quite some time and is actually relatively picturesque. The caravan park is also very nicely appointed (certainly compared with other stops along the way), and our stay there is very pleasant. Not so pleasant though that we consider extending our stay. We were tempted to wander down and visit the old telegraph station half buried in the dunes, but we have seen this several times before, so chose instead to get on our way to Cedna. Along the way we made the obligatory stop to view the 100m high cliffs of the Great Australian Bight. We have seen these before as well, but I never cease to be amazed by these soaring cliffs which continue for as far as the eye can see. Beth seems to have taken the role of lead driver these days. She warms the tyres, sorts out any little niggles with the car and then works her way up to a steady pace. She then hands over to her co-driver (that would be me) who brings it home to the finish line. This generally works ok unless I am called upon for navigation, whereupon I sometimes get things wrong. Luckily we are crossing the Nullarbor which boasts just the one road, so even my navigational shortcomings are unlikely to cause us grief. Our only pit stop today is at Nullarbor, where we finish off the last of our fruit and vegetables before we get to the quarantine station at Ceduna. Carrots, tomatoes and oranges (I refused to even think about consuming six onions - which is lucky because they were allowed through quarantine) eaten on the side of the road before being washed down with Nullabor's finest coffee in their salubrious dining hall. It did the trick, but is likely one of those dining experiences which don't live long in the memory.

Ceduna, despite a not so nice reputation was a pleasant enough place to stay. Not particularly attractive, but very friendly people and a comfortable enough caravan park. We even managed to get in a decent walk along the coast, and as reward for our efforts over the last few days we shouted ourselves dinner at the local hotel, which was very nice (local seafood) and a welcome break from our Herculean task of vegetarianism in recent days to ensure we disposed of nothing at the quarantine station. It is easy to make the mistake of thinking once you reach Ceduna that you have crossed Australia, but really you are not even halfway there yet, so still a lot of driving ahead of us. From Ceduna we travel to Port Augusta (5th largest Sth Australian city) and it feels like we are getting back into civilisation. Two nights in Port Augusta to do some washing and shopping and take a bit of a break from driving then we will spend a couple of days at Mt Remarkable NP to do a bit more walking. From there we will visit Adelaide then work our way back along the coast to catch up with friends in Anglesea, then family in Geelong and hopefully land at home around 3rd December.

I don't think that I will post another blog between now and home, so this is the last instalment in our amazing gap year adventure. Beth tells people that there is not much in my blog which resembles the truth, but she is wrong. Everything in my blog resembles the truth, it is just not always a perfect replica. We have had a wonderful time, and I hope that this blog, despite its exaggerations, omissions, ramblings and occasional rantings has to some extent brought you along on the journey with us. I have certainly had fun writing it.