DENMARK - BEACHES AND WINE (PART ONE) (3 NOVEMBER 2014)

The frenzy which had been Anzac Albany was over. The advertised delights of the Denmark area now beckoned. We were tourists again. Where to begin?

During our remaining four nights at the Rivermouth our 'must do' list included a visit to some of the local beaches, a trip to the Valley of the Giants at nearby Walpole and a tour of a selection of local wineries. The latter were to be of Liz's choice. I had promised to be 'the skipper', the WA term for the 'designated driver', as repayment for the number of times on which she had driven me to and from the Carnarvon RSL during our stay there. Whilst she would not admit it, I retain a strong suspicion that she did not really think this would come to pass, but, as I have noted before, a promise is a promise, even a rash one!

But before the co-pilot can revel in the delights of Bacchus, let's get our feet sandy. The highway in and out of Denmark is littered with signs pointing to various beaches. In fact the entire coastline in this part of the Great Southern is a continuing series of marine nooks, crannies, pools, inlets and, in some cases, sweeping expanses of white sandy beach, most of which are backed by rocky cliffs or scrub covered hills.

We visited many.  All had their own attractions, and it is fair to say that the locals are spoilt for choice, but as has often been the case in the past, I have exercised some significant editorial restraint in presenting a few which we through were stand-outs.

In many cases the bitumen roads off the main highway soon give way to unsealed tracks through the ubiquitous low coastal heath.  This approach to Waterfall Beach is typical.







Another thing I had noted about this part of the WA coast was that, notwithstanding the fact that it directly faces the Southern Ocean, a patch of water not know for its benign nature, the power of the surf did not seem as great as that we had constantly seen further north where the coastline abuts the Indian Ocean. 

Waterfall Beach is typically picturesque with its white sand and turquoise water. And the name?








Not far from the car park the reason become obvious. If you peer closely just to the left of

centre of the shot of this crevice in the low hills which back the beach, you will spot the stream of water which constantly gushes forth from its feeder spring. It is hardly a waterfall as such, more of a shower, and is used for just that purpose by those who make Waterfall Beach their own.

I suspect the temptation to test to see if the water is actually fresh in situations like this is as irresistible as checking to see if the 'wet paint' sign is genuine. 

It was. Sweet and crystal clear. What a treat it must be to be able to rinse off under this natural stream after a salty dip. 












The next cab off our rank for the day was the locally famous Greens Pool, reached by wandering down the relatively short track from the broad expanses of the car park














and descending the set of stairs at the end of it.  From here we could look out across the western end of the pool, enclosed to the seaward side by a line of protective rocks and fringed by fine white sand.


  





Today was not what I would describe as 'swimming weather', but this did not deter a few kiddies who were frolicking with a verve reserved for the young at the eastern end of the pool. The surf of the Southern Ocean is kept well at bay here by the natural rock barrier, and, 




as can be seen in this photo on a hoarding in the car park, this can be a very busy place during the summer.

Greens Pool is the venue for local swimming classes and any number of organised social activities during the warmer months. With spots like this on offer less than a twenty minute drive from Denmark, is it any wonder that the entire south coast becomes a mecca for Perth holiday makers over Xmas. Similar to places like Port Elliot (a popular beach side town south of Adelaide....for my interstate readers), many sites in the caravan parks of this area are the subject of permanent summer bookings.....they turn over only in the event of death or bankruptcy!




Within a five minute walk of Greens Pool is another well known coastal attraction, Elephant Rocks. So with the pool in the background, we were off.








Before we had reached 'The Rocks', others of a different nature attracted our attention.

Granite outcrops are not unusual in this area, but what drew these to our attention was the stark difference between these sharply pointed skyline sentinels and the rounded shapes of those nearby. There is always something new here.




Liz and I both agreed that the name 'Elephant Rocks' does demand some use of the imagination, although from this angle it was possible to imagine we were looking down on the bulky backs of two seaward facing pachyderms.





  






Another flight of steps....steady knees....I am sure it will be worth it.

At the bottom of the steps the entrance to the cove is guarded by huge lumps of grey granite













which seem to almost reluctantly allow access to the beach through the narrow cleft between them. Again, at the risk of alienating interstate readers, I have to comment that this reminded us both of the entrance to Stokes Bay on the northern coast of Kangaroo Island 












Any conjecture about the name of this tiny cove soon faded into complete insignificance as we emerged from the gap to be greeted by this scene of serene coastal tranquillity

where the calm, crystal clear waters of the cove fleetingly flirted with the bulk of their rocky protectors before languidly flopping on the shore. 

And just to complete the picture, this shallow, fresh water stream meanders down from the background hillsides casually skirting around the barrier of these two huge rocks as it makes its way to the ocean.





At the risk of waxing a shade too lyrical, I have to say that this is one of the most completely captivating coves I have ever seen. I am sad that the photos do not do it justice.

How on earth do we top this?  A visit to a well know winery, fortuitously located between Elephant Rocks and our caravan park, seemed like a good idea....and it was on Lizzie's list.

The rolling hills, vines and tall trees of the approach to Somerset Hill were in complete contrast to the low scrub and the sand of the coast we had just left.

The fact that we were only one of two vehicles on the green sward of the car park did little to inspire confidence that the cellar door was open, but Liz was a woman on a mission. Not to be easily denied, off she went to investigate. She shortly emerged from the entrance to the large galvanised shed which housed not only the tasting room but also maturing barrels of wine and stacked pallets of cartons of the finished product, to beckon victoriously (or was that wave imperiously?)

We were lucky....the owner had opened to accommodate our fellow sippers who, from what we could gather without obviously eavesdropping, were relatives of some sort. Mine host waxed eloquent about the quality of his sparkling whites. It would have been churlish to have refused to taste. Liz quaffed, whilst as 'skipper', I merely swilled and spat. I then did my best to appear interested whilst Liz made her way through the other wines on offer. And, no, I didn't sulk or look at all petulant!


We later agreed that one of the two proffered drops of the much vaunted bubbles was not too bad, but with an asking price of just under $50 a bottle, it did not have that degree of appeal. Liz did quite enjoy a couple of Somerset Hill's other product and we departed with the first two bottles of what was to become a replenishment of the 'under the bed' cellar. Given that we were not moving for some time, the weight was not a problem.

As a footnote to our view of the bubbles, we noted, somewhat sniffily, that it did not appear in the recently published 'James Halliday's best 100 Australian wines'. Amateurs sometime get it right!