A green and shady park, lots of fish, beautiful beaches at our doorstep, and virtual isolation on a wonderful part of the south-east coast. This was what we had been promised at The Duke of Orleans Bay, initially as long ago as December 2013 (by a fellow we met in Busselton) and many times thereafter.
The only slight concern we had was that we had also been told that groups of Kalgoorlie miners often make this their playground over the weekends, and that things can become a little chirpy. It was therefore with a mixture of high anticipation tempered with a vague apprehension that we set out from Esperance for the 100 kms trip east to 'The Duke'.
The only slight concern we had was that we had also been told that groups of Kalgoorlie miners often make this their playground over the weekends, and that things can become a little chirpy. It was therefore with a mixture of high anticipation tempered with a vague apprehension that we set out from Esperance for the 100 kms trip east to 'The Duke'.
But first, as you would expect by now, some perspective! This aerial shot (from the Internet of course) hopefully provides just that. By way of quick interpretation, the Bay of Orleans is that appearing between the numbers 1 and 2 and the caravan park in which we stayed is where it is depicted at the southern end of the bay.
Nares Island is significant as you will later discover. The tiny strip of sand, between Nares Island and Hammer Head (the really small bit) is Little Wharton Beach. Wharton Beach, the jewel in the crown of The Duke, shows as the long crescent of sand which is the main feature of the shot. Beyond that, to the far left of the wide expanse of sand hills at the end of Wharton, is the beach of Victoria Harbour (we didn't actually get that far).
This was to be our environment for ten days. We had originally booked for a week, but soon after our arrival decided to extend. As it was, we could have stayed on almost indefinitely....it was everything we had hoped it would be, and, in some instances, more (except for the weather).
But before we could enjoy all that was on offer here, we obviously had to get there. The Duke of Orleans Bay lies east of Cape Le Grand, between it and Cape Arid some 70 or so kms east of Esperance. A good bitumen road carried us to the tiny town of Condingup where we turned south to travel the remaining 20 kms to coast.
But before we do so, let's take a quick look at 'Condy'. We had heard much of the Condy Tavern and the size of their meals, and did make the best of a very overcast day to visit this august watering hole later during our stay, but for the sake of convenience, I have included that and our town tour here.
As we turned into the street to the pub, we came across something we had never before struck on our travels......a Tourist Waste Transfer station. What a very good idea this is. East of Condingup, facilities of any kind are limited in the extreme. In fact, even the bitumen runs out 60 kms beyond this point. Those visiting the Cape Arid National Park, and the isolated beaches of the area do so on dirt roads and camp in bush camps.
With the provision of these bins, the Shire authorities have provided little excuse for those who are not keen on taking their rubbish with them when they leave these wilderness areas.
Down the road we came to the famed tavern. We were clearly not alone. The 4WD enthusiasts belonging to this line up were happily making the most of the back beer garden for a break in their adventures. I chose not to intrude on their privacy by photographing the beer garden area, but can tell you it is very inviting.
This whole part of the coast is a real playground for those for whom the only holiday worth having is one spent bashing through the scrub on sandy tracks to nowhere or seeing just how long it does take to become bogged on an impossibly soggy beach or the slopes of a ridiculously challenging sand hill. Each to their own...at least there is safety in numbers, and I have to say these off road devotees were seriously well equipped for what they were doing (and they were a great bunch of blokes as I soon discovered).
And at the back of the tavern and general store, what else, more 4WD's. This is a spot where those who pull in driving anything else are the decided exception. Having said that, I would hate to give the impression that this is red-neck country. Not so. The vehicles merely reflect the nature of the area and the necessary type of vehicle required to work and play in it.
For new arrivals, a little uncertain of exactly where they should go, this unique method of posting directions solves the problem. Most we saw veered to the left!
The interior of the tavern is fascinating. As I was photographing the dining room, mine host, Kevin, who not only owns and runs the place, but actually built the tavern himself a number of years ago, was quite keen to have a chat. He was quick to point out that all the wooden furniture which graces the dining room and the bars came from one single huge log of wood which was found cast up on a local beach. A monster piece of driftwood no less.
I had already notices that some of the tables had interestingly rustic edges. Kevin told me that, after some investigation, including an assessment by relevant experts, it was established that the timber was Brazilian. How on earth it made its way to the waters off the south of WA is anyone's guess. The best bet is that it fell overboard from a freighter, but where and when remains a complete mystery. In any event, apart from the retrieval (no mean feat in itself) and the milling costs, good old Kev had acquired a great source of timber and a yarn.
We chose to eat in the bar area
where, apart from all the wood, local stone is another featured building material. The overall result is striking. We could just imagine what this place would be like on a cold and wintry evening when the fire was blazing in the hearth and the conversation robust. And robust is a word which more than adequately describes the lunch time burgers with which we were presented. They were huge, and very tasty. The accompanying chips we both agreed, were the best we had ever sampled, even better than those served at the Adelaide Oval on day one of a Test Match, when everthing tastes good! The food reputation of the Condy Tavern is well deserved.
And so it was that with full bellies and the reputation of the Condy intact as far as the Mobile Marshies were concerned, we waddled back to the cruiser for a quick look around town. In response to another question I put to Kevin, he told me that Condingup existed as a service centre for the local grain farming industry.
Many of the homes in the town housed farm workers and their families,
and the large steel sheds we had seen enclosed the engineering equipment used for heavy machinery repairs.
Obviously the social thirsts of the local community we were catered for at the Tavern. We were not entirely sure if the same could be said for spiritual succour....the Church of the Good Shepherd had clearly seen better days.
Like so many of the small WA country towns we have visited, the local oval was very well grassed,
was situated in an area surrounded by access roads (the only place to yell for a country footy team is from your car)
and was complemented by a large club rooms building. As we drove into the 'Lions Den' [sic] we noted that the CWA logo shared space on the gateway sign, from which we could only assume that the large club rooms building serves as the meeting venue for a number of town organisations. What a very practical idea and such a good use of limited local facilities.
So much for Condy.....it took less than five minutes to fully circumnavigate its few streets before we were on our way down the road southwards towards 'The Duke'. The narrow strip of bitumen was barely wide enough to accommodate the width of the van, but after our experiences on the 'developmental' roads of far north outback Queensland, in Normanton territory, this presented no problems (unlike others in the park who were somewhat vocal in their criticism...we just smiled politely and maintained a tactful silence!)
There was no doubt that we were still in broad acre cropping and grazing country,
country which had attracted world wide investment attention some years ago when the Esperance sand plains were fertilised and farmed productively (you may recall that this had been a joint venture between a large American consortium and the WA Government of the time).
Well, as we could see, a few other well heeled Yanks had also gotten into the act. This sign did stir some long forgotten memories. Surely not the same bloke I remembered from TV.
Indeed it was. The redoubtable Kevin confirmed that this property on the Condingup - Orleans Bay road had belonged to Art Linkletter, the host of many US radio and television shows. The most well known in Australia was 'People Are Funny', a show in which contestants were sent off to complete all manner of outrageous tasks. He also later hosted a children's interview programme in which he demonstrated an incredible talent for eliciting hilarious, spontaneous responses to questions he posed (and reacting accordingly) I am old enough to remember both, fondly!
This was not the only property into which Art had sunk a deal of his hard earned cash. He owned a number in the Esperance area, and one or two cattle stations up north, all managed on his behalf, by all accounts, very well. This was indeed, for me at least (the co-pilot just looked blank during my conversation with the publican on this subject...after all I was talking TV of the late 50's and early 60's) an extraordinary 'blast from the past'.
Beyond this little piece of topographical nostalgia, large stands of roadside trees shield the countryside from view for some distance
before giving way to sandy rises along the road edges and the stunted coastal scrub they supported. And then, in the distance we could see the hump of what we later knew to be Table Island.
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In no time at all we could see the long awaited sign
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and were making our way along the park entrance roadway.
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to the entrance itself.
I had previously read that the Duke of Orleans Caravan Park is more like a village than a normal park. We agree. Given that this is the only establishment of any kind on the bay, this is not entirely surprising. The relatively unpretentious park office building,
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complete with fuel pumps out the front,
gives little hint of the cornucopia of goods on display inside.
The park store here at The Duke of Orleans Bay caravan park is, without a doubt, the most complete in its range of goods we had ever seen, and by now we had seen plenty, from one end of the country to the other, literally. Grocery items of all sorts, frozen foods, fishing rods, tackle and bait, beach wear, hardware goods, drinks and snacks, vehicle lubricants and spares....it just went on and on. These photos do not fully capture the incredible range of goods on offer.
To top it all off, a cafe service caters for those in need of hot chips, hamburgers etc etc. For all who make the trip to the relative isolation of The Duke, there is no need to panic about running short of essentials with the exception of fresh fruit and veggies (we had brought oodles in any event). It is all there.
Greeting us on our arrival was Chris, one of two brothers who work 'front of house' and who are members of the Royle family, the park owners. As we later pulled on site we met Wendy, the family matriarch and indefatigable park worker. In the course of our stay we had a great deal to do with Wendy, a genuine Aussie character about whom I'll have much more to say later, including a revelation which was made for one of the most extraordinary coincidental meetings of our entire trip to date.
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Entry formalities completed, we cruised slowly on past an area of camp cabins, through the boom gate
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and into the park proper, where it soon became obvious that there were many who made The Duke a place in which they spend a great deal of their lives. Roads off both sides of that we were taking to our allotted patch
.JPG)
were studded with the evidence of permanent or semi-permanent occupancy.
.JPG)
At this point we noted that some of these park edifices were much more significant than others
.JPG)
and clearly reflected their owners' individual tastes. For me, this one, 'The Bull Ants Nest', was a winner, but it had many rivals as we shall see later. I even saw its owner hand mowing his small front lawn....now that's taking domestic amenity really seriously!
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We cruised on past the playground and tennis courts
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and this array of personal fireplaces, all available for hire,
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before turning left towards our site on the wonderful, dense, short lawn which surrounds the camp kitchen,
.JPG)
and settling in under the large and shady trees. Now, a small confession....this is not exactly how things were on our arrival...I did my camp photos some days later. Remember, we arrived on a Friday. Within no time the apparent space and serenity of our patch as see here,
.JPG)
was in fact more like this.
.JPG)
Folk poured in throughout the day
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bringing with them an array of toys, most of which were mechanical and noisy.
.JPG)
Off road motorcycles
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and quad bikes littered site after site.
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Even those occupying cabins came equipped. The Duke has to be the quad bike capital of Australian caravan parks, but as we found out later, the owners of these wretchedly noisy forms of transport (which no-one it seemed could ride without constantly revving the motors for no apparent reason) fall into two distinct groups. There are those who ride them for thrills and those who use them for beach and sand track transport.
And, as you would expect, some rode responsibly whilst others were nothing less than dangerous hoons. Fortunately, from what we observed over our ten day stay, the latter group was very much in the minority and we certainly came to understand the value of this form of transport in this location.
As we had been told to expect, the weekends at this park can be the rowdy times. Indeed this was so, but by early Monday morning all the weekend warriors had gone home and peace returned to The Duke. Interestingly, the most obnoxious group, whom I later learnt make a it a mission to come here to be loud, were not from Kalgoorlie but Esperance. Fortunately the camp kitchen was all quiet by 2230 hours on the Saturday night. We had no reason to grizzle (or take up the cudgels).
.JPG)
This wonderful park houses several amenities blocks. That closest to us was perched on the high side of sloping ground and enclosed perfectly adequate ablution facilities.
.JPG)
And let's face it, in how many parks can one hang out the washing whilst looking out over the sea?
.JPG)
Apart from the grassy sites around the camp kitchen area there are many others on shady less grassed areas, and, for those with the right type of van or camper, being tucked away in the bush can be easily managed.
When things get hectic, such as at Easter when the entire park is fully booked, this roadway towards the rear of the park
takes punters to a huge camping area
where shelter and shade are in abundance.
This is a very large park in area as we discovered on the 'must do' walk around. This might be just as well given the size of the Taj Mahals of some of the semi-permanents.
Some went up, others went out, and out, add on after add on.
Many were massive 'stand alone' buildings in which a van must be hiding somewhere (other than the mobile version alongside)
whilst many others are of much more modest proportions and more tightly grouped.
If ever there were any doubts as to the fact that this is a fishing mecca, the number of boats to be seen throughout the park soon puts paid to that nonsense.
Down every roadway and in the open spaces boats of all shapes and sizes sit waiting to be put to sea.
And then, to paraphrase that immortal line from Crocodile Dundee.......they were not boats...this is a boat!
Apart from these water craft of all descriptions, I gained the very distinct impression 'you just had not really arrived at The Duke' unless your patch boasted a quad bike.
They were the transport of choice, and they could be found everywhere, a signature feature of this park and this part of the world.
We just loved The Duke, particularly in the area in which we were sited. Our patch was so well grassed that the any thought of spoiling this ambiance with an artificial annex area floor did not rate a second. Mind you, we weren't the only locals pleased with the turf.
Never before have we been on lawn so firm that it could be swept, and this was just as well. It became a daily morning routine to brush the evening calling cards from our living area. Fortunately roo poo is firm, and flees before a flailing broom with speed and ease.
Let me complete this tour of The Duke of Orleans Bay caravan park with a glimpse of another constant visitor whose presence was a real delight to those in residence, well certainly your scribe. Flocks of tiny Western Grass Parrots would descent for a serious munch on a regular basis.
Unlike most of their larger parrot cousins, these cheeky feathered friends were fearless....one almost had to walk around them to avoid actually stepping on them....very little comes between a peckish parrot (Western grass, that is) and a good patch of green pick.
To come.....we socialise, wander magnificent beaches, socialise some more and catch fish, lots of fish (and squid).
Nares Island is significant as you will later discover. The tiny strip of sand, between Nares Island and Hammer Head (the really small bit) is Little Wharton Beach. Wharton Beach, the jewel in the crown of The Duke, shows as the long crescent of sand which is the main feature of the shot. Beyond that, to the far left of the wide expanse of sand hills at the end of Wharton, is the beach of Victoria Harbour (we didn't actually get that far).
This was to be our environment for ten days. We had originally booked for a week, but soon after our arrival decided to extend. As it was, we could have stayed on almost indefinitely....it was everything we had hoped it would be, and, in some instances, more (except for the weather).
But before we could enjoy all that was on offer here, we obviously had to get there. The Duke of Orleans Bay lies east of Cape Le Grand, between it and Cape Arid some 70 or so kms east of Esperance. A good bitumen road carried us to the tiny town of Condingup where we turned south to travel the remaining 20 kms to coast.
But before we do so, let's take a quick look at 'Condy'. We had heard much of the Condy Tavern and the size of their meals, and did make the best of a very overcast day to visit this august watering hole later during our stay, but for the sake of convenience, I have included that and our town tour here.
As we turned into the street to the pub, we came across something we had never before struck on our travels......a Tourist Waste Transfer station. What a very good idea this is. East of Condingup, facilities of any kind are limited in the extreme. In fact, even the bitumen runs out 60 kms beyond this point. Those visiting the Cape Arid National Park, and the isolated beaches of the area do so on dirt roads and camp in bush camps.
With the provision of these bins, the Shire authorities have provided little excuse for those who are not keen on taking their rubbish with them when they leave these wilderness areas.
Down the road we came to the famed tavern. We were clearly not alone. The 4WD enthusiasts belonging to this line up were happily making the most of the back beer garden for a break in their adventures. I chose not to intrude on their privacy by photographing the beer garden area, but can tell you it is very inviting.
This whole part of the coast is a real playground for those for whom the only holiday worth having is one spent bashing through the scrub on sandy tracks to nowhere or seeing just how long it does take to become bogged on an impossibly soggy beach or the slopes of a ridiculously challenging sand hill. Each to their own...at least there is safety in numbers, and I have to say these off road devotees were seriously well equipped for what they were doing (and they were a great bunch of blokes as I soon discovered).
And at the back of the tavern and general store, what else, more 4WD's. This is a spot where those who pull in driving anything else are the decided exception. Having said that, I would hate to give the impression that this is red-neck country. Not so. The vehicles merely reflect the nature of the area and the necessary type of vehicle required to work and play in it.
For new arrivals, a little uncertain of exactly where they should go, this unique method of posting directions solves the problem. Most we saw veered to the left!
The interior of the tavern is fascinating. As I was photographing the dining room, mine host, Kevin, who not only owns and runs the place, but actually built the tavern himself a number of years ago, was quite keen to have a chat. He was quick to point out that all the wooden furniture which graces the dining room and the bars came from one single huge log of wood which was found cast up on a local beach. A monster piece of driftwood no less.
I had already notices that some of the tables had interestingly rustic edges. Kevin told me that, after some investigation, including an assessment by relevant experts, it was established that the timber was Brazilian. How on earth it made its way to the waters off the south of WA is anyone's guess. The best bet is that it fell overboard from a freighter, but where and when remains a complete mystery. In any event, apart from the retrieval (no mean feat in itself) and the milling costs, good old Kev had acquired a great source of timber and a yarn.
We chose to eat in the bar area
where, apart from all the wood, local stone is another featured building material. The overall result is striking. We could just imagine what this place would be like on a cold and wintry evening when the fire was blazing in the hearth and the conversation robust. And robust is a word which more than adequately describes the lunch time burgers with which we were presented. They were huge, and very tasty. The accompanying chips we both agreed, were the best we had ever sampled, even better than those served at the Adelaide Oval on day one of a Test Match, when everthing tastes good! The food reputation of the Condy Tavern is well deserved.
And so it was that with full bellies and the reputation of the Condy intact as far as the Mobile Marshies were concerned, we waddled back to the cruiser for a quick look around town. In response to another question I put to Kevin, he told me that Condingup existed as a service centre for the local grain farming industry.
Many of the homes in the town housed farm workers and their families,
and the large steel sheds we had seen enclosed the engineering equipment used for heavy machinery repairs.
Obviously the social thirsts of the local community we were catered for at the Tavern. We were not entirely sure if the same could be said for spiritual succour....the Church of the Good Shepherd had clearly seen better days.
Like so many of the small WA country towns we have visited, the local oval was very well grassed,
was situated in an area surrounded by access roads (the only place to yell for a country footy team is from your car)
and was complemented by a large club rooms building. As we drove into the 'Lions Den' [sic] we noted that the CWA logo shared space on the gateway sign, from which we could only assume that the large club rooms building serves as the meeting venue for a number of town organisations. What a very practical idea and such a good use of limited local facilities.So much for Condy.....it took less than five minutes to fully circumnavigate its few streets before we were on our way down the road southwards towards 'The Duke'. The narrow strip of bitumen was barely wide enough to accommodate the width of the van, but after our experiences on the 'developmental' roads of far north outback Queensland, in Normanton territory, this presented no problems (unlike others in the park who were somewhat vocal in their criticism...we just smiled politely and maintained a tactful silence!)
There was no doubt that we were still in broad acre cropping and grazing country,
country which had attracted world wide investment attention some years ago when the Esperance sand plains were fertilised and farmed productively (you may recall that this had been a joint venture between a large American consortium and the WA Government of the time).
Well, as we could see, a few other well heeled Yanks had also gotten into the act. This sign did stir some long forgotten memories. Surely not the same bloke I remembered from TV.
Indeed it was. The redoubtable Kevin confirmed that this property on the Condingup - Orleans Bay road had belonged to Art Linkletter, the host of many US radio and television shows. The most well known in Australia was 'People Are Funny', a show in which contestants were sent off to complete all manner of outrageous tasks. He also later hosted a children's interview programme in which he demonstrated an incredible talent for eliciting hilarious, spontaneous responses to questions he posed (and reacting accordingly) I am old enough to remember both, fondly!
This was not the only property into which Art had sunk a deal of his hard earned cash. He owned a number in the Esperance area, and one or two cattle stations up north, all managed on his behalf, by all accounts, very well. This was indeed, for me at least (the co-pilot just looked blank during my conversation with the publican on this subject...after all I was talking TV of the late 50's and early 60's) an extraordinary 'blast from the past'.
Beyond this little piece of topographical nostalgia, large stands of roadside trees shield the countryside from view for some distance
before giving way to sandy rises along the road edges and the stunted coastal scrub they supported. And then, in the distance we could see the hump of what we later knew to be Table Island.
In no time at all we could see the long awaited sign
and were making our way along the park entrance roadway.
to the entrance itself.
I had previously read that the Duke of Orleans Caravan Park is more like a village than a normal park. We agree. Given that this is the only establishment of any kind on the bay, this is not entirely surprising. The relatively unpretentious park office building,
complete with fuel pumps out the front,
gives little hint of the cornucopia of goods on display inside.
The park store here at The Duke of Orleans Bay caravan park is, without a doubt, the most complete in its range of goods we had ever seen, and by now we had seen plenty, from one end of the country to the other, literally. Grocery items of all sorts, frozen foods, fishing rods, tackle and bait, beach wear, hardware goods, drinks and snacks, vehicle lubricants and spares....it just went on and on. These photos do not fully capture the incredible range of goods on offer.
To top it all off, a cafe service caters for those in need of hot chips, hamburgers etc etc. For all who make the trip to the relative isolation of The Duke, there is no need to panic about running short of essentials with the exception of fresh fruit and veggies (we had brought oodles in any event). It is all there.
Greeting us on our arrival was Chris, one of two brothers who work 'front of house' and who are members of the Royle family, the park owners. As we later pulled on site we met Wendy, the family matriarch and indefatigable park worker. In the course of our stay we had a great deal to do with Wendy, a genuine Aussie character about whom I'll have much more to say later, including a revelation which was made for one of the most extraordinary coincidental meetings of our entire trip to date.
Entry formalities completed, we cruised slowly on past an area of camp cabins, through the boom gate
and into the park proper, where it soon became obvious that there were many who made The Duke a place in which they spend a great deal of their lives. Roads off both sides of that we were taking to our allotted patch
were studded with the evidence of permanent or semi-permanent occupancy.
At this point we noted that some of these park edifices were much more significant than others
and clearly reflected their owners' individual tastes. For me, this one, 'The Bull Ants Nest', was a winner, but it had many rivals as we shall see later. I even saw its owner hand mowing his small front lawn....now that's taking domestic amenity really seriously!
We cruised on past the playground and tennis courts
and this array of personal fireplaces, all available for hire,
before turning left towards our site on the wonderful, dense, short lawn which surrounds the camp kitchen,
and settling in under the large and shady trees. Now, a small confession....this is not exactly how things were on our arrival...I did my camp photos some days later. Remember, we arrived on a Friday. Within no time the apparent space and serenity of our patch as see here,
was in fact more like this.
Folk poured in throughout the day
bringing with them an array of toys, most of which were mechanical and noisy.
Off road motorcycles
and quad bikes littered site after site.
Even those occupying cabins came equipped. The Duke has to be the quad bike capital of Australian caravan parks, but as we found out later, the owners of these wretchedly noisy forms of transport (which no-one it seemed could ride without constantly revving the motors for no apparent reason) fall into two distinct groups. There are those who ride them for thrills and those who use them for beach and sand track transport.
And, as you would expect, some rode responsibly whilst others were nothing less than dangerous hoons. Fortunately, from what we observed over our ten day stay, the latter group was very much in the minority and we certainly came to understand the value of this form of transport in this location.
As we had been told to expect, the weekends at this park can be the rowdy times. Indeed this was so, but by early Monday morning all the weekend warriors had gone home and peace returned to The Duke. Interestingly, the most obnoxious group, whom I later learnt make a it a mission to come here to be loud, were not from Kalgoorlie but Esperance. Fortunately the camp kitchen was all quiet by 2230 hours on the Saturday night. We had no reason to grizzle (or take up the cudgels).
This wonderful park houses several amenities blocks. That closest to us was perched on the high side of sloping ground and enclosed perfectly adequate ablution facilities.
And let's face it, in how many parks can one hang out the washing whilst looking out over the sea?
Apart from the grassy sites around the camp kitchen area there are many others on shady less grassed areas, and, for those with the right type of van or camper, being tucked away in the bush can be easily managed.
When things get hectic, such as at Easter when the entire park is fully booked, this roadway towards the rear of the park
takes punters to a huge camping area
where shelter and shade are in abundance.
This is a very large park in area as we discovered on the 'must do' walk around. This might be just as well given the size of the Taj Mahals of some of the semi-permanents.
Some went up, others went out, and out, add on after add on.
Many were massive 'stand alone' buildings in which a van must be hiding somewhere (other than the mobile version alongside)
whilst many others are of much more modest proportions and more tightly grouped.
If ever there were any doubts as to the fact that this is a fishing mecca, the number of boats to be seen throughout the park soon puts paid to that nonsense.
Down every roadway and in the open spaces boats of all shapes and sizes sit waiting to be put to sea.
And then, to paraphrase that immortal line from Crocodile Dundee.......they were not boats...this is a boat!
Apart from these water craft of all descriptions, I gained the very distinct impression 'you just had not really arrived at The Duke' unless your patch boasted a quad bike.
They were the transport of choice, and they could be found everywhere, a signature feature of this park and this part of the world.
We just loved The Duke, particularly in the area in which we were sited. Our patch was so well grassed that the any thought of spoiling this ambiance with an artificial annex area floor did not rate a second. Mind you, we weren't the only locals pleased with the turf.
Never before have we been on lawn so firm that it could be swept, and this was just as well. It became a daily morning routine to brush the evening calling cards from our living area. Fortunately roo poo is firm, and flees before a flailing broom with speed and ease.
Let me complete this tour of The Duke of Orleans Bay caravan park with a glimpse of another constant visitor whose presence was a real delight to those in residence, well certainly your scribe. Flocks of tiny Western Grass Parrots would descent for a serious munch on a regular basis.
Unlike most of their larger parrot cousins, these cheeky feathered friends were fearless....one almost had to walk around them to avoid actually stepping on them....very little comes between a peckish parrot (Western grass, that is) and a good patch of green pick.
To come.....we socialise, wander magnificent beaches, socialise some more and catch fish, lots of fish (and squid).
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