Author: Mr A
To: Tozer’s Bush Camp, Bremer Bay
Distance: 233 km
After a very civilised few weeks working our way round the vineyards and cafés of the SW of WA, we headed off this morning into the wild and wooly hinterland further east along the coast. Firstly though we thought we would detour through Mt Barker, and of course a winery beckoned. Well Ok then, just one more tasting. Plantagnet Winery was just on our route…it would have been rude not to…so we spent a very happy hour tasting some of their range. I know, what a way to spend a Monday morning.
We had a few hours drive ahead of us and were overjoyed that Tassie had decided to crash rather than stomp around the car, as is sometimes her want. Catherine employed the “Thunder Shirt” technique that is used on dogs to calm them when there’s fireworks or thurnderstorms. Basically swaddle them in something warm. In this case Catherine’s waistcoat. Seemed to do the trick, she was flat out the whole trip – wonderful!
It was finally time then to head bush, this time to a place called Tozer’s Bush Camp, which had shown up on WikiCamps as a relatively new place getting 5 star reviews. We headed off the tar and onto the dirt for the first time in over 6 weeks…it felt good. We met Tozer himself briefly, and his 9 month old kelpie. Tassie woke up and viewed both from the safety of my driver’s seat. We were told to go and pick ourselves a spot, which we did, a fabulous array of wildflowers surrounding us. This looks like a top location. Only 3 other caravans are here, and 50 metres to our nearest neighbour. We are so loving travelling in the off season here. From December on it will be heaving.
I know it’s a Monday, and in the “old days” that meant fasting and alcohol free, but what the heck, madam was cooking up a storm of a fish red curry, so I brought out the big guns with a bottle of the Rockcliffe Third Reef Chardy we had brought in Denmark. A Halliday rated 97 pointer. We can’t believe how we have both been converted after such a short sojourn in the Margaret River. Such floozies! So easily swayed from “Oh no we don’t really like Chardy”…stereotyping a whole genre of wine with one foul swoop. The delicacy of the oaking is quite remarkable. It’s there in the background, but not shouting at you.
The evening concluded under the stars with a glass or two of Plantagenet Shiraz, meeting the neighbours around the communal fireplace and exchanging tips and stories. One of the many joys of travelling.