KALGOORLIE - PERTH (14 - 18 OCTOBER 2013)

How on earth could it take five days to reach Perth from Kalgoorlie the sage amongst you are thinking.  It didn't.  Our quest for wind assistance, or more to the point, an avoidance of head winds, meant that we left Kalgoorlie with a revised target for the day...Northam rather than Merredin.  This meant that we would now be well ahead of schedule.  

It also meant that by the time we had completed the 500 kms of this leg I was really feeling my age, and for once was prepared to admit it!  I knew that once we reached Fremantle things were likely to become pretty hectic (as indeed they did) and we both agreed that a spell in Northam was what was needed.  I even took a break from serious sightseeing and photography.  We did potter about a bit, but by and large we spent our time in Northam with our feet up for a few days.

Coolgardie was the first town through which we passed after leaving Kalgoorlie.  Although now completely overshadowed by the size and enterprise of Kalgoorlie-Boulder, Coolgardie, which is still sometimes referred to as 'The Old Camp', was the site of the first of the regional gold discoveries which saved the fledgling colony of Western Australia from economic ruin.  

News of the discovery in the mid 1890's brought thousands of struggling hopefuls from Perth and other parts of the country to try their luck.  In fact, by 1898, Coolgardie, with its population of just over 5,000, was the third largest town in the colony.  Whilst the amount of gold extracted from the Coolgardie area was significant, its real importance in history lies in the fact that it became the point from which prospectors struck out to subsequently make the finds which resulted in the WA Goldfields as we now know them. As can be seen from the shot of the main street, Coolgardie is very much smaller than its immediate goldfields neighbours but,

like them, does boast some wonderful old buildings which stand as testament to the wealth of its beginnings.

Beyond Coolgardie, on our route west to Southern Cross and beyond, we were accompanied for many, many kilometres by the great Perth-Kalgoorlie water pipeline. This is an extraordinary feat of civil engineering, about which I'll have a bit to say in the 'Kalgoorlie' blog. 

Our 220 kms leg to Southern Cross took us through the Goldfields Woodlands and Boorabbin National Parks (the pipeline track can be seen in the far distance to the right of the highway) for what seemed to be interminable kilometres

until we were finally in the (unremarkable) main street of Southern Cross.  This is probably an opportune time to explain that whilst 220 kms doesn't sound like much of a distance, in a normal car when travel at a constant 110 kph is possible, this is so.  But our average speed, taking into account rest breaks etc. is 80 kph, which obviously means our haul to Southern Cross took us nearly three hours. 

Whilst the town itself is of limited interest from what we could see as we travelled through, it does have a fine looking pub, which, despite the relatively early hour, I viewed with some longing!

No such indulgences for those on a mission. Southern Cross marks the end of the woodlands areas and the beginning of what is known here in the West as the 'Wheatbelt'.  As we discovered, it is just that, as we could see from this vantage point on a bridge over the East-West railway line.  In fact, from this point on we were very much reminded of the countryside in many parts of South Australia.

By the time we had reached Merredin, another 110 kms further to the west on the Great Eastern Highway, it was time for a lunch break.  We managed to snag a lovely spot under shade near the railway station where I ignored the marked parking bays and just propped in what were at the time of our arrival, largely open spaces.

By the time we had finished our midday munch, we were surrounded on all sides by locals in their correctly parked cars doing exactly the same thing.  A couple did give us the eye...I was beyond caring.....just blame the ignorant visitor is my newly acquired view.  Or, put another way, I have decided there are times when there is much to be said for the old maxim, 'ask for forgiveness, not permission'!

We did get a glimpse of part of Merredin's CDB from our parking spot.  From this, and what 

we saw entering and leaving, it appears to be a somewhat affluent looking country town of some size.  We have it one our 'return visit' list, but for the time being, it was onwards to Northam.


I recall sometime ago reading about the problems being experienced in the WA wheatbelt as a result of the clearance of the trees across the cropping land.  The result, over time, was a raised water table which in turn pushed corrosive salts to the surface with disasterous results.  We saw many examples of this as we travelled further west (still in company with the pipeline).






So, from Merredin we pushed onwards through the small grain towns of Kellerberrin, Tammin and Cunderdin, where the roadside grain silos and railway sidings reminded us both so much of many similar towns in the grain growing districts of SA, particularly in the Mallee.






Cunderdin did throw up one surprise.....The Ettamogah Pub (photographed very much on the run). This is the third reproduction of that icon of the old cartoon series 'Ned and His Neddy' we have found in our travels to date. The Herberton Village and the Sunshine Coast both host similar attractions.  I was sorely tempted to check its wares, but we had a schedule to keep, even if only self-imposed.



The last small town through which we passed before reaching Northam was Meckering, a name I am sure will ring a bell with most (of a certain age that is!)

At 1059 hours, on 14 October 1968, the town of Meckering was destroyed by an earthquake which measured 6.9 on the Richter scale.  Whilst this is a relatively modest reading in the earthquake scheme of things, the real sting in the Meckering quake's tail lay in the fact that its epicentre was only seven kilometres below the surface.  The 40 second tremor produced a surface fault some three metres high and over 40 kms long, parts of which can still be seen today.  The earthquake was of sufficient magnitude to be felt as far afield as Geralton in the north and Esperance in the south. Miraculously, no-one was killed, in Meckering itself, or in the nearby towns of Northam and York, both of which sustained building damage. 

I must confess that by now I was feeling somewhat shattered myself and very glad that Northam was but 35 kms further on.  The township lies off the main highway, and I was relieved to discover that the Northam Caravan Park was situated on the road into the town.

What a pleasure it was to heave to at the park office where the delightful surrounding gardens presented a real welcome.  

We soon realised that the park owners have gone to incredible lengths to beautify this park with wonderful displays of roses in particular.










It was interesting to later discover that many of the large and well appointed cabins in this park are on the market as permanent residences.  Apart from the natural gardening instincts of the park owners, the potential commercial advantages of providing such lovely surrounds were obvious to us.




But for now it was time to get on site.  We were originally offered a drive-through, but it proved to be a shocker...narrow and uneven...very much an 'overnight only' site.  Fortunately others were available.  My choice, based entirely on the shade on offer, proved to be challenging. 

One of the shade trees reduced the available width of the site considerably.  Coupled with the facts that the entrance roadway was narrow and did not allow much manoeuvring room, the cement block borders were unforgivingly high, and the van had to be precisely sited to allow room for the cruiser, we did have a spot of fun getting settled.  

And here I received another sharp reminder of the effects of travel weariness.  To my great embarrassment, and for reasons which I can only put down to fatigue, I initially directed Liz onto the wrong side of the site.  I am now a decided devotee of the maxim which proclaims that tiredness can have the same effects as alcohol when it comes to driving and similar functions.  

As it was, once I got things right and gave directions which actually made sense, we only just had enough room to extend the awning.  But after we had finally sorted things out, we found this to be a lovely spot in which to spend a few days. At least my judgement about the shade was correct, and with that and our own private walled garden, pleasant neighbours and an interesting town nearby, we very much enjoyed our sojourn in Northam.

Northam is a town of significant interest.  We intend to return later to properly investigate its historical import.  That being said, we shall now jump a few days.  Perth beckons still.




Our 100 kms journey from Northam to Fremantle took us through the Darling Ranges which lie to the east of the city.   As we drove through the rolling green hills we were taken by how much they reminded us of the Mount Lofty Ranges (with apologies for the unwanted effects of the bug ridden windscreen).









This similarity was compounded as we finally began to descend onto the Perth plains in increasing traffic.  A multi-landed highway, warnings of steep descents and arrester beds were all so familiar.





And, finally, after our two week, 2,700 kms journey from Adelaide, the skyline of Perth was in sight.

It had been quite some time since I had been required to tow the van through anything like a large city.  I must admit to being a touch tense as we made our way down the final stretch of the Great Eastern Highway into the maelstrom of Perth traffic.

God bless the co-pilot....she had programmed our trusty Tom Tom to perfection and 'Ken', our electronic navigator guided us with a sure hand off the Great Eastern Highway, along the Roe Highway and thence through the South Fremantle side streets until he announced in his usual measured tone,

"You have reached your destination". And indeed we had, the Fremantle Village Caravan Park, 25 Cockburn Road, South Fremantle, our home for the next ten days.










This is an interesting park.  As I drew breath in the arrivals lane and surveyed the office block and its large visitor's car park,  I knew this was to be a far cry from the rustic and often dry and dusty parks to which we had become used over the past months.

This was precisely so.  When I booked our spot many moths ago from Adelaide, and was asked the size of our van, I was promised a drive-through site on the basis of the fact that this would certainly accommodate us with ease.True enough. I couldn't believe the dimensions of the pad which awaited us. And there was lawn, lawn and more lawn.  I was in caravan park heaven. There was even room for another vehicle at the back of the van....we made good use of this later.

The lawn and slab proved to be of special benefit the day after our arrival, when the skies opened and Perth received a 15 mm dump of rain.  We remained relatively dry underfoot. 




Apart from its caravan sites, of which we later discovered we had one of only four drive-throughs, The Freo Village offers both short and long term accommodation in rows and rows of these oddly shaped cabins.  Many were occupied with folk who were obviously going to work each morning and who had made this park their home.  Great for the cash flow.






And I have to say, the area in which campervans and smaller mobile homes are ensconced is one of the best designed we have ever seen.  Each site comes with its own wooden picnic table and bench set.....what an innovation this is.  




The only real drawback with this park, in common with the vast majority of Perth city caravan parks......NO PETS! Poor old Max....it was off to the cattery in Canningvale for him.  Frankly another drive through Perth traffic over the 20 kms to Max's place of temporary incarceration was the last thing I felt like after we had set up, but we decided that was a better option than tempting fate and having him discovered overnight. 

And so, after a relatively quiet weekend, a highlight of which was a visit from one of my oldest friends, 'JFJ' of Brighton B2 hockey team fame (John Finlay-Jones, who now holds the position of Vice-Chancellor (Research) at the Edith Cowan University in Perth, was the assistant Dean of Medicine at Flinders Uni for many years), we began the week our my UN reunion. What a hoot. Highlights (tastefully edited!) in my next post.

   

NORSEMAN - KALGOORLIE (10 OCTOBER 2013)

As you have no doubt gathered, our push across the Nullarbor and beyond to Perth has been somewhat frenetic.  And once we were there, our days were full.  Clearly I am way behind with this travelogue.  As I mentioned previously, I have decided to make our Kalgoorlie/Boulder adventures the subject of a separate missive, unrelated to real time.  For one thing, it will probably take me a good half day just to edit the nearly 400 photos I took during our four night stay there.

So let's just get on with the business of reaching Perth. 

This highway sign on the approach to Norseman is considered something of a milestone in the east-west road trip.....the end of the Eyre Highway at last.  Suddenly a choice of alternative routes presents itself, both of which run north-south.  Which is it to be?  The goldfields or the coast?

Now, as you know, we had chosen to pop into Norseman for a couple of nights so we grabbed this shot on the way out for the sake of continuity.  And I have to say, after two trips across to the west, I can confirm that this highway junction is a spot one remembers.  New horizons beckon.

Immediately out of Norseman the road traverses the end of the huge saltpan which lies to the north-west of the town

and, some few kilometres further on, travels past the vast watery expanse of Lake Cowan. This is a significant lake.  It was impossible to properly capture its entire expanse as we drove past but believe me it extends as far as the eye can see.  The dark strip in mid shot is actually the raised bed of the railway line which crosses the lake at this point.  Clearly the levels in Lake Cowan do not vary much.

   

Beyond the surprise of Lake Cowan our road again took us into another tract of the Great Western Woodlands and on towards distant hills.

And here we had our first glimpse of the famed Western Australian wildflowers.  It was an admittedly small sample, but enough to whet our appetites for more. Based on what we have subsequently read, we realise that we have arrived a little too late to see any area at its best, but we have plans for next year.

But of course, as I have always maintained, there is no such thing as a free lunch.  My penalty for the pleasure of seeing these floral displays is serious hay fever.  Pass the antihistamines, please. Needless to say I was less than impressed some time later to hear on a local news bulletin that the hayfever season in WA this year is forecast to be a doozy....and if one were sceptical of that advice, the ads for pharmaceutical relief of this affliction plastered all over many chemist shop windows is testament to its veracity.  Joy, oh joy!  They should also advertise boxes of tissues.

In the course of our various travels we had become use to sharing the road with cattle, avoiding emus and kangaroos, but as we approached Kalgoorlie, we were joined by a herd of goats who seemed to totally ignore our presence. Needless to say we slowed rapidly during transit just in case they decided to behave like sheep (or bloody emus!)

There can be no mistaking the approach to Kalgoorlie-Boulder.  The tailings heap of the 'Superpit' gold mine stands out on the skyline from kilometres away.  As we shall see later, there is a reason for this.....it's not called the Superpit for nothing.

And then, at last we were here.  









This had been and easy day by comparison, a mere 190 kms by the time we arrived at The Prospector Holiday Park.  We chose this as our 'home away from home' for a few nights for two reasons.  Firstly they take pets and secondly, this is one of a chain of WA parks which offer increasingly valuable discounts for those who use them extensively.  We have Esperance in our sights for an extended stay...you guessed it..it is also part of the chain.

Our site at the rear of the park (where those with pets are banished!) turned out to be much better than it first appeared. We had oodles of room, and until the last day (when I took this photo) had no immediate neighbours.  Elbow room is always something to be cherished in caravan parks.

Notwithstanding the somewhat bare appearance of our patch, the heavy gravel meant no dust and there where areas in the park where serious efforts had been made to green things up.  The pool area was just such a spot, and we did spent a bit of time here.

As we did in Kalgoorlie-Boulder.  Four nights in fact, and three very busy sight-seeing days. This is a fascinating part of the country.  Apart from the enormity of the local goldmine, the architecture in both towns (which are really one geographically) is extraordinary. The camera just clicked away, and, as I mentioned earlier, I need some days to do blogging justice to our visit there.  For the time, let's skip the next four days and hit the road again.

But before we do, another in the series of editorial disclaimers.  The astute amongst you will note that portions of the text in this post are not right aligned, as is my want.  All my efforts to correct this anomaly (which has now automatically fixed itself!) have been in vain.  There are times when I really feel like making this little laptop the first ever to achieve a near space orbit!

NORSEMAN (8 - 9 OCTOBER 2013)

As I mentioned in my previous blog, Norseman appears to be one of those towns which has fallen on hard times but is fighting back.  By sheer coincidence our park neighbour, who did like a chat, was raised in the town during the heyday of the local gold mine.  He was quick to point out that in those days it supported a population of over 7,000.  Now the figure is more like 700.  I have to say that this was more than evident to us as we strolled around the CBD and part of the 'suburbs'.

We set off down the wide, tree lined street on which our caravan park was situated, a street which is typical of those throughout Norseman.  And as you can see, it is dry despite the fact that the town is connected to the Perth-Kalgoorlie water supply.

The scarcity of water has not deterred the town fathers from making valiant attempts to beautify civic and other areas of the CBD.  If ever proof was needed that roses, and delightful roses at that, will thrive in a dry environment, Norseman provides it.  These in front of the town hall were but one of several large public plantings we found in on our walk.

Norseman began life as a gold town, and it remains so to this day.  Gold was first discovered at nearby Dundas in 1892.  In 1894 Lawrence Sinclair made the find at Norseman, which, believe it or not, is named after his horse 'Norse-Man'. 

The Norseman lode proved to be the second richest in WA after that at Kalgoorlie.  The Central Norseman Gold Corporation continues to mine at the site which can claim to be the longest continuously running gold mine in the country, but overall, mining in the area has declined dramatically with the resultant effect on the town's population.  This, in part, explains why the locals are turning more and more to tourism.

Camels played a major role in the development of Norseman and surrounding areas.  Huge camel trains of up to 70 beasts managed by 4 Afghan handlers would haul all manner of goods to and from the area.  In addition to this general haulage, camels were used extensively on maintenance patrols along the East-West telegraph line until the late 1920's.  They really are extraordinary animals.  It was not uncommon for them to travel 20 to 25 miles per day carrying loads of up to 600 kgs.  Much of the development of the early Nullarbor wool industry was also reliant on the services of these camel trains which were used to cart the clip to the railhead at Norseman or to the port at Israelite Bay. 

The wide main streets of Norseman are a direct result of the need to be able to turn these huge camel trains, very similar to many outback towns where bullock teams did the same work.  The importance of these animals has been recognised with the erection of these wonderful galvanised iron statues on one of Norseman's main roundabouts.

Beyond this roundabout stretch the town's Memorial Gardens, where some of the lawn was real

but, as I looked more closely, I realised other swathes of 'turf' were artificial.  No need for sprinklers here!

We then turned off this street, which parallels that of the main CBD, and made our way in that direction, where, at the next roundabout, the Norseman Hotel provides a background to the  large 'town clock'.  

The second pub, The Railway Hotel/Motel, has clearly seen better days.  It remains an imposing building with a decor which seems strangely incongruous in a town such as this, 

and if this sign on one of its wall is any indication, it must have been a very busy place in its heyday.  I understand it is still functioning, but on a very limited scale.

The main CBD is relatively compact, but provides all the goods and services which the locals and travellers are likely to need.

On our jaunt through the main street we did note this sign on one of the buildings. What an eclectic mix of wares on offer here, we thought.  Strangely enough, the shop was no longer in business.....we also wondered if the fancy dress outfits and adult novelties came as a 'package deal'.

But just beyond the boundary of the CBD it was sad to find obvious signs of commercial decay. This former accountant's office appeared abandoned,

whilst this facade was all that was left of whatever had previously stood here.

Notwithstanding this, as I have mentioned before, the local authorities are making significant efforts to beautify the CBD and to encourage custom from those passing by.  We saw the master plan for the redevelopment of the main town area.  

Work has already started with plantings at all the intersections.  From what we saw the end result looked very promising.

Mind you, there are already established gardens to be found as can be seen here, both around and beyond the post office, one of the very few 'heritage' looking buildings we could find.

Norseman is decidedly a mixed bag when it comes to residential housing. We did find one or two where effort and pride were an obvious part of the occupants' view of the world

but I'm afraid they were the exceptions amongst many others which looked more like this.

We decided that no visit to Norseman would be complete without a trip to the local lookout. This takes sightseers past the mine workings

and on past the huge tailings dump (which is sometimes promoted as a feature of the town!)

The lookout does provide a spectacular view over the town and the land beyond although it can be tricky seeing between the trees.  On the day of our visit a significant storm was brewing in the south-west as can bee seen from the clouds.  

A major feature of the countryside around Norseman are the huge salt pans. flats.  It is possible to drive across them on a causeway.  We were keen to have done this but the weather was against us.  

The threat in the clouds proved not to be idle.  Just as we returned to our park the storm clouted us with some vigour. Fortunately we did not have any canvas hanging off the van so we just tucked up until it passed.  At least the rain settled the dust!

But that night did not pass without incident.  I woke at about 0300 hours to pay a visit to the en suite end of the rig when I noted that our power was out.  This is always a worry until the cause has been determined.  After checking our trip fuses I donned my kit and ventured out to our park power post where I found our power cord had been well and truly removed from the socket.

As you might imagine, I was less than impressed.  Stumbling around a muddy caravan park in the dark at that time of the morning is not my idea of fun. Fortunately the fridge and freezer were still well and truly cold, so we lost nothing, but it is more the principle of the thing.  

My none too subtle enquiries the following morning revealed that a neighbour had tripped over the lead whilst making her way to the nearby loo.  To my significant annoyance the offending woman and her husband were just pulling out as I identified the culprit.  At least I had the satisfaction of asking their travelling companion, who was still on site, to point out that if that happens again there is a well established park protocol that one replaces the lead...a protocol we would all be better served if they learnt and practised it.  I somehow suspect the message will be delivered.

Ah, the little vagaries of caravan life.  It probably goes without saying that the co-pilot absented herself from that conversation which I have to admit was somewhat terse!   

As I have done in the past I have to offer apologies for the format of some of this post.  I am hoping that the inability to align text with the photos in the latter part of it is nothing to do with the bug with which we were inflicted a few days ago.  Fingers crossed.

Let me conclude with another quick real time update.  We have now been in Fremantle for the past ten days, much of which has been taken up with our UN reunion.  That is now over and the Marshies' life is resuming some semblance of normality.  

Most of the group have now returned to their various states after what was a fantastic four days of fun and games. We were treated to a luncheon boat trip on the Swan, a winery tour of the Swan Valley, tickets to the Maritime Museum and the Freo Gaol, a civic reception and lunch and, finally, a formal dinner/dance at the Fremantle Hotel.  I suspect there is some serious drying out being practised all over the country as I speak...I know this is the case in the Marshies' van!

We did entertain one of the reunion organisers and his wife at a BBQ last night.  We had become friends during the last reunion two years ago in Darwin but obviously had little time to catch up during the past week...Greg was a tad busy.  

We had a lovely evening held in defiance of one of the most ridiculous caravan park rules we have ever come across.  A notice in the office declares that ALL VISITORS MUST LEAVE BY 7.00PM...NO EXCEPTIONS.  What bloody nonsense.  As you can imagine we took absolutely no notice of this rubbish.  We were a little concerned when the duty manager toddled past a couple of times in his golf cart, but nothing eventuated.  As I am sure you would expect, we were behaving impeccably.

Today is our last in Freo.  We are planning a long walk along the seafront to the Little Creatures Brewery followed by fish and chips at the marina.  How very tourist is that?  An almost embarrassing admission for two 'knights of the road'!

Tomorrow we'll arrange parole for the Black Panther and head about 100 kms north-west into the Wheatbelt again to the historic village of Toodyay (pronounced we discovered yesterday as Toojay).  We are planning four nights in this little Avon Valley town before moving on to York and our Medieval Banquet and other associated jollies.

Beyond that, our plans are nebulous to say the least.  This is the beginning of the real gypsy part of our travels.  We have already received a number of suggestions from local friends, some of which have great appeal, but at this stage it is a matter of 'where the road takes us'.

Hopefully I'll be able to catch up with this blog during our stay in Toodyay.