As one does in Broome, we spent some time at Cable Beach, or more to the point, at the local surf club where we were made more than welcome after initial introductions. The view from the front lawns is as good as it gets, and we took full advantage of the bar service on offer on Sunday evenings.
Many others did the same in their quest to see the famed Cable Beach sunsets. Every late afternoon would see folk emerge from the many local resorts and stream along the footpaths like lines of ants to take up vantage points over the beach as the sun dipped.
We took the opportunity to add to the coffers of the club whilst also enjoying what nature presented on a couple of occasions.
Although there was no cloud to add a touch of fire to the sun's dying rays, we were content with yet another 'stairway' over the sands and waters of Cable Beach.
I did try to for a little artistic variation,
and as the moon began to shine in the afterglow, we settled down for a very pleasant hour or so with our new found surf club mates, a couple of whom gave us some very good advice as to places we should visit.
Whilst we didn't make a real welter of sunset viewing, we did toddle down for a few. This one was quite different as the rays shining through the heavy cloud painted a pink pastel background against which the dark sails of a local tourist pearl lugger stood out starkly as it cruised back to its mooring.
And then we had the final pink searchlight...what a complete contrast to the usual oranges and reds.
As I have mentioned before, the Broome SLSC has a prime position overlooking Cable Beach. Many locals make the most of this for special events.
With the fairy lights strung overhead, the champagne flowing in the warm twilight, the canapes being served and the sun about to set, what a venue this is.
But there is more to Cable Beach than swimming, sunning and sunsets......this is the venue for the renowned Cable Beach camel rides. The various teams of these cranky beasts (author's comment again) are housed locally, and each afternoon they can be seen meandering down the street
and past the Resort Sunset Bar as they make their somewhat stately passage
to the beach. These were the 'Red' team and were not to be favoured with Liz's custom.
We had it on strong authority that the 'Blues' were a far better proposition, so it was the Blues for her.
The camel rides are big business here in Broome. There are three teams involved, each with approximately twenty beasts of burden. Liz had paid $85 for the privilege of bumping along the sands and she was one of about twenty riding with the 'Blue group' on this particular occasion. The sunset ride is the second of the afternoon (the earlier one is slightly cheaper) and then there are the photograph sales.
This is a very slick operation. As the train moves off along the beach and back again, one of the crew takes a mass of photos, races back to the beach HQ truck and madly prints them off. By the time all those riding have dismounted, there is a fair selection to choose from. But of course, Liz had her own resident snapper, one who was a tad nervous. Would I capture this important event correctly?
This is a very slick operation. As the train moves off along the beach and back again, one of the crew takes a mass of photos, races back to the beach HQ truck and madly prints them off. By the time all those riding have dismounted, there is a fair selection to choose from. But of course, Liz had her own resident snapper, one who was a tad nervous. Would I capture this important event correctly?
After the sunset starters had assembled and been briefed on mounting procedures and the like,
it was time for Liz to meet her camel. As could be expected, each has its own characteristics of behaviour. Liz was told that her ship of the desert was an amiable old sod who would take for ever to rise from the sand for the mount, but at the end of the ride would plop down with alarming speed. This proved to be absolutely accurate!
And now for the first tentative contact....a somewhat perfunctory pat on the neck. Do we look enthused??
With the introductions completed, it was time to mount, one by one, working forward from the end of the line. "I told you they were cranky, smelly, noisy buggers, Liz." There was no response!
And then it was her turn as her travelling companion for the afternoon waited to take up the front seat.
All aboard and up we go. Much of the briefing related to the manner in which camels actually get off their haunches....it is a real roller coaster ride as firstly the hind quarters are raised followed by the front end.
After a bit of prodding and pushing, Liz's mount finally rose to its full height and I was regaled with the 'royal wave', a sign of confidence perhaps, or was this bravado?
it was time for Liz to meet her camel. As could be expected, each has its own characteristics of behaviour. Liz was told that her ship of the desert was an amiable old sod who would take for ever to rise from the sand for the mount, but at the end of the ride would plop down with alarming speed. This proved to be absolutely accurate!
And now for the first tentative contact....a somewhat perfunctory pat on the neck. Do we look enthused??
With the introductions completed, it was time to mount, one by one, working forward from the end of the line. "I told you they were cranky, smelly, noisy buggers, Liz." There was no response!
And then it was her turn as her travelling companion for the afternoon waited to take up the front seat.
All aboard and up we go. Much of the briefing related to the manner in which camels actually get off their haunches....it is a real roller coaster ride as firstly the hind quarters are raised followed by the front end.
After a bit of prodding and pushing, Liz's mount finally rose to its full height and I was regaled with the 'royal wave', a sign of confidence perhaps, or was this bravado?
In short order all were aboard and off they went, plodding stolidly northwards along the firm sands of Cable Beach, each camel attached to the next by a rope fixed to a wooden plug in its nose. This struck me as a somewhat tenuous form of control, but it works.
I have to say that these rides do represent value for money. Each train travels for quite some distance along the beach. And the do toddle along. In no time flat Liz's train was out of sight.
For me there was nothing now to do but wait. The tension was mounting. I was under real pressure to be at the right spot on the return journey to capture that 'sunset' picture. I amused myself in the interim by wandering along the beach photographing the fascinatingly intricate patterns left in the sand by the myriads of tiny crabs which roam around at low tide.
At last, as the sun sank into the sea, the train loomed large on its return journey. And I very nearly mucked it up! There was a frantic last minute scramble along the beach on my wonky foot to make sure I could capture the iconic image of Liz silhouetted against the setting sun....there were to be no second chances.
I just made it in time, to be greeted by another of her 'Queen Liz' waves. You may have spotted that the camel bringing up the rear is unladen. The somewhat portly soul who had set out on this particular beast did not make the distance....she had to be off-loaded en route and hitched a ride back to HQ with the photographer. I could swear the camel was grinning!
Liz and her companion, on the other hand, were having the time of their lives. I did not need to be told on her return that they had chatted away the entire trip. This was obvious to even a mere male.
And now for the dismount.......hang on girls. The handler had been absolutely right about the speed with which this camel lowers itself to the sand.....so fast in fact that I missed the second stage when the hindquarters were descending. All I managed to capture of that part of the operation was a blur.
Back to earth again at last.
There was but one remaining task to be performed......a vote of thanks for the ride and and a tasty treat for the camel who liked nothing better than a crunchy, complimentary carrot at the end of a hard afternoon's work.
As the 'Blues' then trudged back off the beach whilst one of the crew flogged the photos to the eager throng of erstwhile cameleers, it did occur to me that the folk running these tours do earn their money. As we were safely back in camp sipping on a debrief libation, all these animals had to be walked the two kilometres of so back to their farms, divested of their saddles and leads, and then fed, watered and groomed before being bedded down for the night. Not my idea of a great way to make a living, but Liz had a ball. Given half a chance she would do it all again. Thank goodness all that anticipated expectation had been more than adequately met!
Camels were not the only quadrupeds to grace the sands of Cable Beach whilst we were there. In fact we extended our stay by a few days for the event.....the Cable Beach International polo tournament.
Now neither of us have any real interest in horses generally and polo in particular, but this tournament is such a 'one off' on the Australian tourist calender (and as we discovered, rates highly on the international circuit) that we made the effort just to see what it was all about.
As it transpired, this really is a big deal in the annual cycle of life in Broome. If there was any doubt as to the wealth of many of the fans and the 'social status' of this event, the sight of the number of private jet aircraft cluttering the apron of the Broome Airport soon puts paid to that.
We could not believe the amount of money which must be involved. As we wandered down to the beach front on the Sunday afternoon to watch the final match, the horses which were soon to be involved in the fray were being prepared in the car park.
They were soon being led down along the track through the sand hills
to the beach below
which had sprouted hospitality tents and marquees, catering stalls, changing rooms, commentary points and all the other paraphernalia necessary to stage such an event as this, all clustered around the field (well, sands in this case) of conflict.
And it wasn't just the ponies and their grooms hurrying down to the beach.....other fillies were equally eager to become part of the social scene.
Team photos were mandatory,
and what's any 'horsey event' without a 'fashions in the field'? At least here there is no need to ensure that the handbag and shoes match! Good to see a few men involved, too......no sissies these Broome blokes!
I would like to be able to say that I knew the teams involved and the outcome, but I haven't a clue. All I could glean from the commentary was that the final pitted Australia against New Zealand and that the Aussies won the Paspaley (Pearls) International Beach Polo Cup, just...I think! It was all a bit confusing.
What did surprise us both was that each team consists of only three players, but these guys are professionals and by all accounts this contest was as good as it gets for beach polo.
From what we understand the Saturday night dinner on the beach is pretty spectacular too, as this shot of the table setting courtesy of the 'cablebeachpolo' website shows,
but we were more than happy to join the hoypoloy watching from the 'stands' at the surf club.
From here we could see as much as we needed to, including this wonderful sight of two completely different craft plying the waters off the beach.
Today the lawns on front of the surf club really did come to life.
By now we were quite at home here and had a table spot reserved just for us.
The walkway in front of the club was a passing parade of an elegance rarely seen at Cable Beach (other than on polo weekend)
which we watched with some amusement and a delicious sense of inverted snobbery as the dying rays of the sun heralded our last night in Broome.
As the moon rose over the clubhouse, Liz held the fort at our table
whilst I breasted the bar, posed with two of our newly found and very good mates from the Boome SLSC, and returned with our farewell bottle of bubbles.
This had indeed been a fitting end to our Broom experience, but from the perspective of these missives, there is yet much more to tell.
which had sprouted hospitality tents and marquees, catering stalls, changing rooms, commentary points and all the other paraphernalia necessary to stage such an event as this, all clustered around the field (well, sands in this case) of conflict.
And it wasn't just the ponies and their grooms hurrying down to the beach.....other fillies were equally eager to become part of the social scene.
Team photos were mandatory,
and what's any 'horsey event' without a 'fashions in the field'? At least here there is no need to ensure that the handbag and shoes match! Good to see a few men involved, too......no sissies these Broome blokes!
I would like to be able to say that I knew the teams involved and the outcome, but I haven't a clue. All I could glean from the commentary was that the final pitted Australia against New Zealand and that the Aussies won the Paspaley (Pearls) International Beach Polo Cup, just...I think! It was all a bit confusing.
What did surprise us both was that each team consists of only three players, but these guys are professionals and by all accounts this contest was as good as it gets for beach polo.
From what we understand the Saturday night dinner on the beach is pretty spectacular too, as this shot of the table setting courtesy of the 'cablebeachpolo' website shows,
but we were more than happy to join the hoypoloy watching from the 'stands' at the surf club.
From here we could see as much as we needed to, including this wonderful sight of two completely different craft plying the waters off the beach.
Today the lawns on front of the surf club really did come to life.
By now we were quite at home here and had a table spot reserved just for us.
The walkway in front of the club was a passing parade of an elegance rarely seen at Cable Beach (other than on polo weekend)
which we watched with some amusement and a delicious sense of inverted snobbery as the dying rays of the sun heralded our last night in Broome.
As the moon rose over the clubhouse, Liz held the fort at our table
whilst I breasted the bar, posed with two of our newly found and very good mates from the Boome SLSC, and returned with our farewell bottle of bubbles.
This had indeed been a fitting end to our Broom experience, but from the perspective of these missives, there is yet much more to tell.
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