It's probably not the best way to start a blog, that is by saying "please ignore my last".....well, the last paragraph of my last, at least!
As you will have read, I initially planned to skip our first Carnarvon experience and go straight to the North-West Cape, but I have since realised that will throw me completely out of kilter, and I have enough trouble maintaining equilibrium as it is without adding unnecessary impediments. And there is a very interesting and significant change in the countryside between Kalbarri and Carnarvon, so let's take up the journey from there.
Our trip out of Kalbarri, of necessity, took us back through the Kalbarri National Park along the road we had travelled a number of times when visiting the inland gorges and on our return from Hutt River Province. I find it strangely frustrating to have to travel over old ground just to reach our next highway, but from here we had no choice.
Some 60 kms or so later, we rejoined the Brand Highway and turned our heads northwards once again. It was not long before the countryside changed quite markedly when the low scrub of the Kalbarri plateau gave way to the much large trees of the area north of the National Park.
As we progressed further north, the quite dense bush on the sides of the highway began to thin out somewhat and we could see a subtle change in the colour of the soil.
Large tracts of the bushland along this stretch of the highway were showing obvious signs of fire. Whether this had been a deliberate burn-off or the merely nature at work I am unsure, but the end result was pretty bleak.
Now here is something we hadn't come across for quite some time. We could have been back on the Bruce Highway in FNQ. No, it wasn't like the Bruce.....we were only held up for five minutes!
By now we were into the red dirt country
and, about half way into our journey from Kalbarri to Carnarvon, we took a break at the Overlander Roadhouse,
where, as you can see, we were anything but alone. This roadhouse lies just south of the junction of the Brand Highway and the road into Denham, and beyond that, the famous Monkey Mia on Shark Bay. From what we saw during our relatively brief stop-over, it is a place where printing money is fully licensed....it was buzzing.
I had planned to refuel here, but it was just too crowded. Vans were coming and going at the rate of knots, on both sides of the road, and it was wet and muddy. I decided to push on and take a fuel break at the Wooramel Roadhouse, some 75 kms further north, where, as it turned out, everything was much more convenient, including access to the bowsers.
Leaving the Overlander we were now well and truly into grazing country. Low scrubby bush somewhat reminiscent of the saltbush country of northern SA was eventually replaced by a welcome surprise in the otherwise flattish landscape.
This group of the WA version of the 'jump-ups' contains one particular hill from which one can see right out across Shark Bay. It is with some anticipation that we plan to spend a night here at the Gladstone free camp site on our way back south to watch the sun set across the bay and enjoy a quiet glass or two under bright stars.
One of the touristy type slogans which is applied to Carnarvon reads "where the outback meets the coast", and indeed it does. As we neared this coastal port town we could have been anywhere in the cattle country of outback Queensland or the Northern Territory.
Here we are at last. One of the hallmark features of Carnarvon was within sight.....the OTC dish which played a significant, but widely unknown, role in US space exploration. Much more of this later.
Five minutes later and we had pulled into what we then thought at the time was going to be our home in Carnarvon for a week only, the Big 4 Plantation Caravan Park. Of course, we all now know better.
I'll deal with this park and Carnarvon in much more detail in due course (which is another way of saying when I catch up!), but I must share just one small arrival disaster with you before we move on.
It had been a pretty longish day. I was somewhat less than impressed on arrival to find that the large, drive-thu' site which we had been previously been allocated and which would have been a mooring doddle, was still occupied by a couple who had decided at the last minute to extend, ostensibly on the pretext of a mechanical problem (I have a very good reason to suspect this was just not true...however). So, after finding then that the alternative site to which we were directed was also occupied, I was becoming a touch short.
Of course, given Liz's current role, we now know what had happened, and in all fairness it was nothing to do with her (now) office colleague. Irrespective of the cause, I then had to choose an alternative site, and pick something where the Vogts could pull in next to us, preferably, for them, with a slab. After one false start, I made a selection and we dropped anchor.
By now I was over all this. Six hours on the road and an arrival stuff-up was not my idea of a relaxing day. And then the final highlight.....whilst banging in the tent pegs to hold firm our portable clothes line, I felt a slight resistance before a muddy geyser erupted beneath my hands and I was drowned in a shower of clay brown water. You guessed it, I had gone straight through a water pipe.
I'll leave my reaction to your imaginations. So, with Marshie madly trying to stem the flow (and it was pretty spectacular I have to say) and Liz scampering off to the office to 'fess up' and seek help, I spent the next few wet, muddy and miserable minutes sitting like the boy with his finger in the dyke. Strangely enough I concluded that our arrival in Carnarvon could not have gone much more badly.
Fortunately from that point on it did get better. The cavalry, in the form of Matt, the owner, and Andrew, the manager, arrived at the gallop and we had things under control in short order. Thank goodness the pipe was plastic. The cut and sleeve repair job did not take too long, and at last I got to use the branch lopping saw we carry to cut through a stubborn tree root which was impeding progress. Thank goodness I could do something to help.
To their credit and my relief, both chaps could not have been more understanding or dismissive of my concerns. As you can probably imagine, I was mortified by my mistake, more so because I was only using short pegs. But as it turned out this unfortunate introduction developed into a much more positive relationship, with the end result that Liz was offered her current job.
"Ah,such is life on the road", he sighs philosophically!
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