After spending the morning cleaning the car and van, we reluctantly dragged ourselves away from the Clare. It was a slow drive down into Adelaide, I’m pretty cautious behind the wheel, knowing I have several tons behind me you don’t want to be trying to stop too quickly. Late afternoon saw us winding our way though the city streets and then climbing up a winding steep hill into a really scenic part of Adelaide we had never been before.
Catherine’s friends and neighbours from when she lived in Hastings moved out to Australia 30 years ago, and we have visited them a number of times over the years. A surrogate family really. We had been invited to stay with Kim and Mike for a couple of days, so first job was to park up on their drive, a proposect that at the beginning of our trip would have filled me with horror. Now…easy peasy.
They have a lovely home with a massive ‘market garden’ at the back, brimming with fruit and veggies, some of which were incorporated into a fantastic dinner.
Oh the potatoes fresh from the ground – the fresh berries and strawberries – so delicious. Local wines were produced, of course. A cracking night was had.
Yesterday we drove into the Clare Valley, stopping to make a very important purchase at a ‘fine foods’ shed by the side of the Port Augusta road…
Yes…food of the Gods…pickled eggs. Thirteen years ago we had driven that same highway on our way to the Flinders Ranges and I had seen this sign from heaven by the roadside, advertising pickled eggs. I just had to swerve off the road and buy some. And here we are all these years later and I’m back…never having being able to buy any more in Australia in the intervening period…Criminal!
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We were soon set up on a cold dismal looking campsite just outside of the small town of Clare. Thoughts of cycling into town were abandoned as we shivered in the 13 degree late afternoon temperature. Instead we popped in the car and after a quick tour round the less than inspiring shops decided on a early (5.45pm!) Indian dinner, at Indii of Clare. When you walk into an Indian and its still light it feels all wrong. Anyway the food was great – fabulously cooked ‘street food’ menu of entree size dishes. An excellent bottle of local straight Grenache from Vangaurdist Wines. A good start to the Clare.
We listened to the rain hammering down overnight, sounding like dried peas were being chucked at the caravan roof – a disturbed night. Morning dawned wet, cold and foggy. To perk us up I did my (now World famous) BBQ egg and bacon sarnies (much to Mrs A’s approval), unloaded the bikes and off we set for a ride.
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When will the iOS app for Google Maps show altitude? Mrs A had picked us a nice looking circuit shown on a wineries map, but no indication that we would be cycling up near vertical roads for the first 10km.
This picture does not do the gradient justice as Mrs A reached the peak of yet another 242 metre ascent.
We paused for a breather at the first winery we came to, Sussex Squire. Given Mrs A is from the old county of Sussex we felt it was worth climbing up their steep drive. And it was. What a great selection of wines – from their crisp Riesling, very unusual apple and pear notes Pinot Grigio, to a wonderful straight Malbec that was so elegant, their Metaro was silky smooth, and the dry grown Shiraz just gorgeous. The owner, Mark Bollen did a terrific job of explaining his philosophy of organic wine making in this small, family owned vineyard.
I can only contrast that experience with our next tasting (up more hills) at Skillogalee, which was dreadful. The young lady delivering the tasting either knew nothing about her wines, or if she did was very reluctant to share. She stood there with her arms folded, gazing out of the window and giving out an air of complete boredom. We’ve drunk a lot of their wines over the years, but my finger will carry on past them now on the wine list.
We wandered back up the hill (how come in a loop ride we only seem to be going up?) and back to the caravan park. Now what do you think could be under a down jacket when the temperature as shown is 20 degrees centigrade…? Yes, some of you know our Burmese cat is is born for more tropical climes than this!
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So the local Tourist Information centre next to the campsite does a wine tasting every Friday night, brilliant. We went along and it was heaving. What a great concept. Use these facilities not just 9-5, promoting local businesses, selling a wide range of food and wine, not just have leaflets with content everyone can find on Google now anyway. As usual we got talking to Tim and Angie, a lovely couple from the Gold Coast who were traveling with their 9 and 10 year olds. They saw that we were in a Zone RV and said “We met some other Zone owners in Port Lincoln” – John and Shelley – the same people we met the day before yesterday! Such a small world in such a big country – love it!
It’s not all shark diving and/or relaxing on this trip you know. Some days you just have to buckle down and clean up. Today it was time for the very dusty truck and the Zone to get a spruce up. Mrs A even managing to look glamorous with a mop in her hand posing on the roof. Why aren’t I up there you might ask? Well…we decided not to get the ladder fitted to the rear of the Zone (mistake), so the only way we have worked out to get up and clean the solar panels, is for the dinky Mrs A to sneak up through the skylight.
We had new neighbours pull up in their motor home today, and out on a lead comes another Burmese, cool as you like! They have been travelling with prince Simba since leaving Sydney in May, and it was great to swap stories over a few glasses about life on the road serving our respective furry masters.
A final look around the neighbourhood on foot completed the afternoon. A very picturesque location.
For dinner I cooked up a bit of storm on the BBQ. None of that fancy foreign spiced up food on my barby 🙂
Nothing wrong with meat and three veg you know! All this was washed down with a bottle of Mudhouse Pinot from Central Otago, awesome. Tomorrow we leave Port Lincoln and head for oyster heaven at Coffin Bay – mmmmmm.
We left Penong and headed down the Eyre Highway, a road we were dying to see the back of, and were soon pulling up at the quarantine checkpoint for our fruit and veg to be inspected. We only lost a few items to the big veggie bin and were soon on our way to our next destination – the Eyre Peninsula and its regional centre Streaky Bay.
We had booked ahead for a waterfront site, paying a few extra dollars for the privilege. After some tight manoeuvres we were settled in with a bay side view. Unfortunately we were sharing that view with thousands of flies, our first taste (literally) this trip of the little buggers which want to crawl into every facial orifice. Ah bless Australia.
Waterside camping
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A quick trip into town (a row of 5 outlets) bagged us the last half dozen Streaky Bay oysters remaining in the fish shop. Six is better than none! We have had an oyster drought since leaving Sydney, refusing to pay the crazy WA prices ($36 a dozen seemed to be the norm!).
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Back at camp we set off for a bike ride along the foreshore, a lovely ride, apart from the flies which sadly took the shine off. We headed back into a strong headwind and I thought ‘Option A – flies – Option B wind (but no flies) – I’ll take the wind’. At least they weren’t the biting March flies from a couple of days ago!
With the wind at your back there is little need for pedaling!
Back at camp, Tassie was strongly encouraged to leave the caravan and take some air. Not sure she will become a beach bunny – she didn’t waste much time leading Mrs A back up the beach and up the steps into the mobile apartment! At least she knows where home is.
Way too much space!
It was time to break the self imposed ‘Nullabor Drought’ and have our first glass of wine for a week, a lovely Clare Valley Riesling to show off the oysters. Superb
After dinner we took a stroll along the beach and watched a full moon rise up over the water. The ‘staircase to heaven’ phenomena, as they call it in over-hyped Broome. This was way better as we were the only ones on the beach.
Can you see the stairs? Or just the refection from a huge orange moon?
We planned to get a few ks under the belt today – 545 in fact (around 340 miles) so we decided to skip brekky and get on the road early. The road stretched in front of us another 1,300 kms before we would pull off to head to the coast. We came to the sign that announced the longest straight piece of road in Australia was starting, 90kms later I would turn the wheel slightly to the right and it was over.
The road ahead…is that a slope I see?Co-pilots in position
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I had had a good sleep so easily chewed up the miles until lunch, a delicious sandwich and a quick break to look at the limestone blowhole and I was back in the saddle.
This is the blow hole – not much happening today but when the ocean is rough, apparently a different storyClassy sign directing visitors to the blowhole
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We listened to a heap of interesting podcasts and were soon pulling into our camp for the night by a roadhouse. We had planned to go for a walk, but it was cold, dusty and windy and not very inspiring so gave up that idea. What a desolate place. It was so tempting to say lets have a glass of wine, but had promised ourselves we would stay dry across the Nullabaor. We had been having a glass of wine nearly every night since we left, so probably time to give our livers a break!
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Tomorrow we cross into South Australia. As well as being a big milestone for us (as the fourth state we had driven into on this trip), the boarder restrictions mean veggies have to be topped and tailed, and some cooked, frozen or discarded in order to prevent pests and disease being spread interstate. That task preceded dinner preparation – a chicken red curry with a lot of vegetables, accompanied by a fine glass of sparkling mineral water!
Stepping out of the Zone this morning it felt….warm….and spring perhaps has finally arrived in this rather cool end of WA. We had to drop the caravan off for a new ensuite door to be fitted…dé jà vu indeed. The last one had arrived in Perth damaged and so Zone RV had shipped one down to Esperance, no questions. They are good guys!
First thing on the list was a trip to Bunnings to get another chair – they have a special on and we bought one yesterday as my chair seems to be occupied by a small cat more often than not. We were so pleased with it we thought we’d pick up another one, again for the princely sum of $5s. Bunnings is the best!
Next I was sent into the local super IGA for some provisions, a dangerous move. I went in with the mandate to purchase two bottles of Diet Coke, and came out with four bags full! I just couldn’t resist their Cornish pasties, and the tequila and lime olives were just begging to be tested. The cheese counter had a wide selection of sheep cheese, so I thought it was rude not to stock up for Mrs A. Etc…etc…. I am approaching the Nullarbor crossing knowing there will be very little of anything but pies and the very ordinary Mrs Mac’s sausage rolls for sale along the 1800km of culinary desert that awaits us.
We had planned to go back into town for a fish and chip lunch, something Esperance with its fleet of fishing boats was famous at doing well. However, it wasn’t to be. The number one rated restaurant had closed on Saturday and was opening again today, Tuesday at 4.30pm – way past lunch! The four other options we looked at were all closed. It seems Esperance with a French name is looking to emulate their business hours, and double the price we paid last year for a plat de jour in a beautiful little Parisian cafe. I don’t profess to understand how everything has got so expensive here, but the European tourist is definitely noticing and not happy.
It was time for plan B then and break out the supplies. A marvellous picnic lunch in the sun, a very relaxing afternoon before heading off to pick up the Zone. I wish we had a little more time here but time is marching on and the Nullabor beckons.
Princess Tassie joined us for a picnic
We only had a short drive to our planned camp for the night, a field beside an old pub called The Gibson Soak Hotel. I wandered into the bar to check WikiCamps was up to date and it was still OK to pull up. It was, another very friendly bar man who was pleased with the extra custom from grey nomads I would think. Another caravan was there already and three more pulled up while we were setting up.
Gibson Soak was named after Billy Gibson, who reportedly stumbled across the soak (spring) while searching for stockI wonder what the story is with this stretch limo parked outside the motel!
Tassie was fascinated by the range of farm animals she had spotted out the window. Not entirely comfortable, she quickly retreated to her “safe space” behind the pillows!
We ambled over to the pub and a couple of locally brewed beers soon hit the spot (oops, forgot our dry pledge…oh well, we don’t start the Nullabor until tomorrow…). The locally caught Snapper and chips were brilliant. Finally…our fish and chip craving satisfied.
We wandered along the coast road this morning into Esperance along Ocean Drive (how did they think of that name?) and were blown away – literally and figuratevely. The wind has again gusted to just under 70km an hour (44 mph), trees were down and I was gripping the wheel of the rig like a mad thing – again. When we reached the ocean though the view was….I must use a word other than incredible..how about stupendous!
Churning turmoil of ocean
The first thing we (i.e. my lovely artistic wife) noticed were the colours, every shade of blue (apparently – I thought blue was blue). The waves were huge and smashing against the rocks, it was all very dramatic.
Wind and long hair do not mixHold on tight!Much warmer and less blowy behind glass
Although Tassie was quite unmoved by all the fuss. We arrived at the caravan park, called Bather’s Paradise. We looked at each other and shivered at the very thought of bathing. The temperature was supposedly 17 degrees (at midday) but that wind was bitingly cold. Anyway the park seemed nice, and we ploughed into a laundry mountain. Keeping the washing from leaving the line and not providing clothing for some deserving person in Darwin was our next challenge.
It was a Sunday and we had read the market was on. But it was closed because of the wind. Bloody wind. We needed to do a food supermarket shop. But they were closed because it was a Sunday. We needed to buy some things at the pet store. It was closed. The chemist was closed. Target was closed. The restaurant we planned to go to was closed, the plan B for dinner was the chip shop that had been recommended…it was closed. The fresh fish shop at the harbour….you guessed it. Esperance is either deeply religious or stuck in a 90s time warp. I’m betting on the latter.
So its a pre-cooked curry from the deep freeze and a (another) quiet night in. Good job I’m such remarkably exciting company.
All these little towns off the main tourist trail are just so friendly. We got a smile at the local IGA, and useful local information on road conditions from the bakery. We just had to buy a sausage roll to start the day. After talking to a a couple of friends yesterday who described themselves as ‘hitting the gym’ and ‘eating healthily’ we aren’t looking forward to Christmas around the pool together!
After an hour’s drive we decided to head down to a little bay (Munginlup beach) on the coast for some lunch. Arriving, we saw a well laid out campsite, new toilets, and noone else. So…we thought let’s stay here the night. Tas was keen to explore so a walk to the ocean was in order.
Rich dunesThe most colourful rock pools everNot even grey skies can stop this water looking incredible (sorry for the sloped horizon!)
After a spot of lunch and a read (John Le Carré’s new one for me, it’s a cracker) it was time to hit the beach minus Tassie. The wind was howling but it was a stunning vista that awaited us as we walked along. Not a single footstep was visible. We marched up the sand and came to a lagoon, again not a sign of anyone.
Tas wasn’t too keen on the sight and sound of the ocean, but loved digging in these dunes
Heading back to the caravan we decided to use up some pancake batter and try making Yorkshire puds in our oven. Worked out very tasty – washed down with a Chardy from Mt Barker’s Plantagenet winery. Main is a chicken Pad Thai, absolutely yummy, so we decided it needed something special to show it off. I fished out the Brash Vineyard 2014 Shiraz. More medals than Usain Bolt’s mantelpiece.
Yum!
It’s so nice to have a place all to ourselves, with only the sounds and smells of the ocean keeping us company. This is a great time of year to be travelling along this part of the coast. The weather may be not the most beachy, but hasn’t often stopped us from getting out and about. I would trade sunbaking and swimming for less crowds any day.
Today we had decided to take a short 20 minute drive up the road to the nearest settlement, Bremer Bay. We set off with very little in the way of a plan, all we could gleam from a bit of Googling was “a small settlement surrounded by fabulous beaches, with fishing and surfing opportunities”. Well that describes 99% of all Australian coastal settlements…what was special here? We soon discovered that as we came to our first view of one of the surrounding beaches. What incredible colours, the vivid blue of the ocean was in stark contrast to the almost white sand. One local described it as ‘Whitehaven Beach without the temperatures and crowds!’
Too gorgeous!
The cold wind soon drove us back in the car again (a great day to be behind glass) and we carried on around the town trying to find its centre. Looking at Google Maps it wasn’t really apparent, because it doesn’t have one. Is the pub near the houses? No. Are any of the few shops clustered together? No. It was quite odd. It’s called a town, has 250 permanent residents, and apparently this swells to 11,000 in the school holidays. But really had no feeling of hanging together.
Another stunning beach – sheltered this timeA people-free zoneCan imagine this being busy in the summer holidays
We drove around and found another spectacular beach though, and then headed to the local fish processing plant, as we had been told they would sell us some fresh catch. They hadn’t got any prepared, and we had no gear to gut and scale, so we brought some vacuum packed, frozen but locally caught, shark and sardines. The owners were delightful and we chatted for a while about their move from Gosford on the east coast of NSW to run the business.
We finally found the pub we had been told served a pretty decent feed, and were warmly greeted by a very friendly barman. Everyone here has the time and genuine inclination to have a natter. Food was ordered and delivered to our table, sheltered from the wind.
A great feed at the pub!
We were a little thrown by the very scary sculpture on the way out though! As the Ranger we spoke to said, he’d lived here for 15 years before he realised what it was. See if you can guess.
Something from our worst nightmares? This big mermaid is 6.3m long and weighs around 3.5 tonnes
We took a bit more of a drive around and then headed back a bit ambivalent about the place. Yes, it was surrounded by such beauty, but seemed to have no coherence, just a series of buildings scattered about randomly. Lots of land was up for sale so clearly there’s an appetite to develop the town, but it needs more infrastructure and planning. Get a new town council!
Back at the camp a rather lazy afternoon followed, with Tassie being the recipient of far too much attention.
Our beautiful fur child
We dragged ourselves out of the cosiness of the Zone though for one final sunset walk around the property, as we will be leaving tomorrow. This has been a fantastic bush camp and all credit to Terry, who keeps the place immaculate, and to Robert, the owner, for setting this facility up. Everyone here has been so friendly.
Tassie giving ‘I love you’ eyesAnd the sun sets on another day
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!
We then drove through the magnificent Sterling Range, stopping for a roadside lunch to admire their towering presence, rising almost sheer out of the flat country surrounding them.
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.
Can Tassie read upside down?Tas heads off for a walk in searchof lizards and mice
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.
A fine view of the hills
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.
They have a lovely home with a massive ‘market garden’ at the back, brimming with fruit and veggies, some of which were incorporated into a fantastic dinner.
Oh the potatoes fresh from the ground – the fresh berries and strawberries – so delicious. Local wines were produced, of course. A cracking night was had.
