Category: Western Australia

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Day 124: 30 September – A little bit of R&R

Author: Mrs A

Location: Lane Poole Reserve, Nanga Brook

Distance walked: 500 metres!

Distance biked by Mr A: 14 km

Sleep was my friend today and around 12 hours of almost uninterrupted sleep were enjoyed.  Mr A woke up earlier than me and jumped on his bike for a ride through the forest, returning to make a pot of herbal tea and a BBQ breakfast. Nurse Tassie appreciated having a warm body to sleep with and kept me company.

It was a fine day – when the sun shone, quite warm, but chilling right down to around 14 degrees when the clouds came across. We spent the morning drinking tea and relaxing, Tassie even coming outside and relaxing in Mr A’s chair, relegating him to a stool! Its a beautiful area to reuperate in – trees in every direction, and multiple birds frequenting the camp sites, as well as a mob of bush wallabies.


We decided to go for a drive in the afternoon. My airway and vocal chords are still bruised and swollen, so I wasn’t up for anything too strenuous, and to Mr A’s delight, I am barely talking yet either. We explored round some of the other camp areas and Mr A took me down to the River Murray, where he had been kayaking a few weeks ago.


Now, since we have owned this caravan, slightly more than 10 months now, there has not been a Mr A fire story. It’s incredible we have lasted this long without an incident, but tonight, the accidental firebug drought was broken. We were cooking a fish curry on the stove top, and Mr A remembered he had some Roti bread in the fridge which needed heating up in the oven. So he took over that task – after all, the instructions were quite simple – preheat oven to 180 degrees, wrap bread in foil with a few drops of water, and cook for 4-5 minutes. What ever could go wrong? 

Mr A emptied the oven of all unnecessary items and lit the gas. Suddenly we noticed orange flames licking out of the open oven and the smell of burning plastic! Argh! He had left a bag of popcorn in the oven (we often store unopened bags of popcorn and crisps in the oven as they will not get squashed), and it had fallen down the back on to the flame. Burning bag and popcorn galore greeted us! Thankfully, not too great a disaster, and soon extinguished and cleared up by Mr A with no lives or property lost. Thank goodness.

Hopefully that is the worst we will have to contend with. The rest of the evening progressed with no further incident.

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Day 123: 29 September: Escaping from Perth for a recovery weekend

Author: Mr A

From: Perth

To: Lane Poole Reserve

Distance: 98km

Catherine had a rough night, awake for hours with a mix of jet lag and pain from the operation. I made her a nice pot of herbal tea and got us packed up to head south for the weekend. I wanted to show her the Lane Poole Reserve where I had been while she was away, as I was confident she would like being in the forest with all the birds. Normally she takes 2/3 days to recover from these dilation surgeries, so some nice gentle walks and perhaps an easy paddle might be OK, lets see. 

It’s an easy drive south and inland, with the road climbing upo into the jarrah forests that surround the little village of Dwellingup. We stocked up on some firewood, and headed into the Lane Poole Reserve to our camp at a place called Nanga Brook. Yes there is…a lovely little stream there. 

It was a bit noisy with it being school holidays, two children particularly who only had one setting on their voice box…a scream. So we just turned up the music…easy. I’m so glad I ripped all of our music CDs before we left!

Mrs A had a little snooze nad was woken with another pot of tea. She has to keep that throat lubricated. I encouraged her out for a gentle walk around the camp. 


There’s a stunning walk through the forest that we ambled up, spotting birds hopping around in the trees.


 Back at camp Mr and Mrs Fairy Wren were hopping around. The iridescent blue of his plummmage just took my breath away. It was the first moment we had had together where we weren’t thinking about Catherine’s looming health issues. It did us both good to be transported back into the natural world.

We got back to the Zone and guess what, another pot of tea was made, no shortage of lubrication of the throat for madam today. Even young Tassie caught the mood and was enticed out into the afternoon sun for a little sniff about. Big, brave girl. 


To be amongst the trees again is just so rejuvenating and relaxing. You can smell the oxygen they are giving off, and the good vibes. 

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Day 122: 28 September – Escape from the ICU

Author: Mrs A

Location: Perth – St John of God Subiaco Hospital to Forrestfield

Distance walked: 500 metres (ha ha!)

Well, to be honest I had hoped that all this airway dilation malarkey was behind me, but apparently my body has other ideas, and once again scarring has appeared in my trachea (I suffer from rare disease Idiopathic Subglottic Stenosis*). So frustrating, but what can you do? I am so fortunate to have forged good relationships with the expert doctors in this field, and was able to call on one here in Perth to help me. I have to admit yesterday was a bit of a whirlwind, with a post breakfast text message from Dr Shyan Vijayasekaran (Dr Vijay for ease!) letting me know the disappointing result from Tuesday’s CT scan (for those who missed it – my trachea a healthy 1.5cm wide most the way, narrowing to 6mm – think drinking straw – with scar tissue in one area. Explains my breathing issues), and followed by a call letting me know he could pull some strings to get me into surgery that evening. Just incredible. My head was spinning all morning, questions about how the scar tissue could be back, anxiety about more surgery on my airway, what this means for my long term future, and what it means for our trip.

I was wheeled down to theatre around 6pm and was next aware of being in recovery about 8.30pm. I was told I was allowed water, but no food due to the drugs they had given me during the surgery. I didn’t mind though, my throat was so swollen I could barely sip water, let alone imagine anything else.

I was moved into the intensive care unit for the night. The nurses were absolutely lovely. I could speak no louder than a whisper and they were extremely patient and caring with me. On the flip side, the ICU means no sleep. I managed a couple of broken hours, but the inflatable leg warmers which massaged my calves to negate blood clots inflated and deflated every ten seconds and the half hourly blood pressure test also kept waking me up. But I was kept safe and well all night.

The very patient Mr A arrived around 10am this morning to break me out, and brought me back to nurse Tassie. Soup was duly heated up for lunch, and multiple cups of tea provided. He also rushed around Perth picking up the CDs of my CT scan to send to the UK, back to the hospital to pick up the before and after photos of my airway that I had forgotten (doh! – don’t worry, won’t share them here – if you want to see, please message me!), and organising a take out dinner from a local highly rated Chinese restaurant.

Miss Tassie of course was a fabulous hot water cat, snuggling up with me and keeping me warm as I caught up on sleep.

Breathing is not great yet due to the swelling, however I anticipate it will improve over the weekend. Both Mr A and I have our fingers crossed this is just a one off blip in the scheme of things, and we can go back to our adventuring with a nice big airway and no more breathing worries.

*Definition of Idiopathic Subglottic Stenosis – Idiopathic – ‘We don’t know the cause’, Subglottic – ‘Below the vocal chords’, Stenosis – ‘Narrowing’. It’s a rare disease impacting mostly adult women over the age of 25 – in Australia it is estimated around 40 women per year are diagnosed. For more information see here: Beginners Guide to iSGS

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Day 121: 27 September – Mrs A in Subiaco Hospital for surgery

Author: Mr A

Location: Perth

Distance walked: 6.5 km

Life sure throws some medical curved balls at Mrs A and I.  Results from Catherine’s CT scan yesterday weren’t good – her airway has narrowed again and she needs an immediate dilation. So bit of a change of plan today from the one we had of a nice potter around the city shops, to checking into the ENT Centre at Subiaco Hospital. 


And Catherine being Catherine manages a lovely smile. She is one brave lady, although a few cracks appeared today. A strange city and suddenly you’re told your airway is back to what it was before her major surgery a few years ago in the UK. Very disappointing  – but at least this surgery should make it easier for her to breathe again so she can enjoy the rest of our trip. 

Meanwhile Tassie and I wait anxiously in the Zone. 

At least she is back sitting on my lap after completely relegating me to food and litter tray monitor duties after Catherine came back on Monday night. Mummy’s girl definitely…

Have to just add that the WA health system, of which we have become more familiar with than we expected, has been impressive. Everything has happened with little wait time, efficiently processed and beats NSW hands down on that front. Whether they can continue to afford it as their economy struggles, lets see. But if you’re going to need medical attention then Perth has our vote. 

Just rang the hospital and she is in intensive care but ok…the world turns. 

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Day 120: 26 September – Andersons reunited

Author: Mrs A

Location: Perth, Western Australia

Distance walked: 4.5 km

It was an uneventful trip back to Perth from the UK. I farewelled my sister and her family, checked in my bags and went through security. A nice new Emirates airbus 380 flew me to Dubai, then another from there to Perth. Mr A was there to meet me at the gate, and took me back to the mobile apartment to Miss Tassie. So good to see both of them again.

I had a poor night’s sleep, waking at midnight and finally dropping off again at around 5am. Before long the sun had risen and I had to be up again. After a brief visit to a local GP, Mr A and I went to meet our favourite stalkers from Geraldton for brunch in South Perth. Greg and Claire were visiting their daughters nearby and had time to meet before heading home.



It was good to see them and we had a very tasty brunch in a cafe with a fabulous view over the Swan River, looking out towards Elizabeth Quay. Perth feels like a very livable city, very picturesque, full of cycle paths and walking tracks, surrounded by water in all directions. 

Before long, it was time for the next event of the day, the far less exciting visit (especially for Mr A, who spent the time in the waiting room!) to Perth Radiological Clinic for a CT scan of my chest and trachea. Hopefully will get the results of that in the next day or so, revealing whether I need to book in for an operation next week or not. At the very least, it should shed some light on my fluctuating breathing abilities.


Clothes washing and dinner cooking took up the remainder of the day, keeping me busy in order to kick start the correct sleep patterns…hopefully!

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Day 117-119: 23-25 September – A wet and wild long weekend culminates in Mrs A’s return!

Author: Mr A

Location: Pumphrey’s Bridge to Forrestfield (Perth)

We pulled up stumps on a wet and windy Thursday morning and left the little town of Boddington for a short drive inland to our weekend camp at a place called Pumphrey’s Bridge. No prizes for guessing what’s there….


Yup…but its a bridge we won’t be driving over….mind you, our VMS navigation system wanted us to. I just updated the maps before I left Sydney on this after market 4WD navigation system – I’m not sure how they stay in business because the maps are absolutely useless compared to using free Miss Google. She of course had me detour round, as every car has had to for many years. 

I had been invited to attend a club meet of the Toyota Land Cruiser Club of WA, by the organisers – our new friends in Perth, Andy and Caroline Trenfield. I was looking forward to meeting them again, and to be honest having some human company. I was talking rather a lot to our Burmese cat, Tassie.

I was first to arrive, of course, and “Norman No Mates” here parked up and sat in the Zone watching the rain hurl itself at the windows. Soon the other club members starting arriving, all sensibly in caravans or campers given the shocking forecast for the weekend. However, the venue had been chosen not just for its falling down bridge, but it had a lovely old hall that was rented to us for our stay. I was soon mingling, and what a lovely crowd of people., I was immediately invited down for a brew with one couple, he was mid 70’s and she mid 80’s. They are both very active four wheel drivers and gad about in their caravan having a blast. Several other club members were in their late 70’s or early 80’s, and I just was so blown away by how “young” these people are. Is there a direct correlation between owning a caravan and longevity? I bloody hope so! 

We trooped into the hall and Caroline let me light the fire. Little does she know my history….but thats another story. We soon had a roaring blaze, the wine was opened and food was cooked and shared. What a great atmosphere. It’s so depressing to think that you need to behave a certain way when you get older. I watched a “ladies shooters” event kick off. They were sure having a lot more fun than many much younger people I’ve hung out with! Of course I had to show the girls how its done…


A projector was produced and we watched Bran Nue Dae, the 2009 Australian movie with a very young looking Jessica Mauboy, Missy Higgins, and Ernie Dingo doing his thing. The comments from the audience had me in tears of laughter on several occasions. It was hilarious and a cracking evening. The club members supposedly recognised every shot of old pub and stretch of dusty road, and if they didn’t, they just made it up I reckon. 

The weekend carried on in similar vein: eat, drink, laugh, repeat. It was a mainly indoor event given the very ordinary weather, but it was very cosy in the Zone at night with my personal hot water cat. She seemed OK holed up in the caravan, with regular brushes and cuddles, and the occasional brief night time exploration when it wasnt raining. 

All too quickly and it was Monday morning and time to head back to Perth, and the Discovery Parks caravan park adjacent to the airport, ready to meet Mrs A off the plane.

And here she is, looking far too glamorous for someone who has just travelled for 24hrs. 


\Wow…so great to have her back. And someone else is pretty happy as well…


Now that is a happy look…honestly….and determined to plant herself in the middle of unpacking…just to make sure there’s no ignoring going on. 

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Days 107-113: 13-19 September (Australia) – One small cat arrived; one only slightly larger still away

Author: Mr A

Location: Mandurah, 70kms south of Perth

If you are not one for cute cat photos, then I suggest you move to the last paragraph of this post rather quickly.

Last week our beloved Burmese cat, Tassie (or Miss T to her friends) was packed off by her loving step-parents Rosemary and Richard, for her flight from Sydney to Perth, a not incesequential flight time of 5 hours. A number of other anxious fur parents were waiting for those crates containing our loved ones to be unloaded and distributed amongst us. It was the 13th – I am superstitious. 

After what seemed an age she was delivered in her little yellow crate (sorry no pictures was so stressed I forgot!) and had arrived safe, in need of a brush and a cuddle, but otherwise in good spirits. Once I had her installed in the Zone, her tail was up, water was drunk, food was consumed at a rate of knots, and the brand new litter tray christened. All the boxes ticked. 

She has been away in the caravan with us a few times before, so familiar smells put her at ease, and she was soon resting up. She does a lot of that, around 23 hrs a day by my estimate. Well she’s no kitten any more, ageing gracefully at 13. We left the Discovery Parks site by the airport, which was pretty good actually, and headed south to Mandurah, Perth’s second largest city and growing fast. We rocked up at Mandurah Caravan Tourist Park, and were guided into our tight spot (site 13….) where we stayed for 6 nights. 

The days have flown past, with plenty for me to do, mostly cleaning and maintenance on the car, caravan and bikes. Miss T has adjusted pretty well, enjoying the ever changing view from the Zone’s big windows.  Birds, dogs, ducks and a miniature horse (yes you read that right), all have occupied her from the viewing platform of the queen bed. Occasionally she even ventures to the door to keep an eye on things and make sure all is in order. 


We have discussed sharing the housekeeping load, but bed making was frankly dismissed with a haughty shrug.


To be honest, life with a cat in a caravan is pretty good. No heating up a hot water bottle, no need for comedy programmes as she attempts various improbable manoeuvres to find the sunniest spot in the Zone.  Mind you, I have been relegated to Chief Brusher,  Tempting Treats Chef, and the queen bed doesn’t seem quite as roomy now. Yes that’s me buried at the back, one hint of a photographic opportunity and I’m toast. 

Now you may think that’s a grumpy look…and well…it often is. For instance if the temperature falls below 28.5 degrees (yes centigrade)  in the Zone (thank goodness for the insulation), approporiately chilled freshwater has not been added to her bowl in the last 15 minutes, the Coles roast chicken isn’t basted quite to her liking, or heaven forbid the mayo forgotten. The latter requiring at least 7 minutes brushing to restore the honour of her deigning to sit on my lap. 

Just one more photo then I promise I will stop. I came home from shopping today and couldn’t find her. Searched everywhere and anxiously ran through my locking up process – did she escape somehow? All the windows have strong fly nets, no escaping there. Now in an 18 foot 6 caravan you’d think there was only so many places a cat can make you work to find them. But really, she had me going. Finally, I saw my thick goosedown, winter sleeping bag by my bed, having omitted to pack it away after sorting out yesterday. I went to lift it up, and it felt unusually heavy. She had climbed right inside. 


Now, I admit the sun isn’t shining today, but its 23 degrees for goodness sake. 

So now let’s turn to Mandurah, and some impressions of this place I’d frankly never heard of. Well its not a wine region. I’ve done some cycling around, and super impressed with the dedicated infrasctucture for riders. Paths are everywhere, along beautiful foreshore, canals and lakes, which Mandurah is graced with in abundance. 


The marina area is very swish, restaurants line the waters edge, boutique shops are open for business, it was really buzzing, even on a Monday. 


The canal side housing looks tempting, and a friend assured me that with the highest mortgage default rate in the country, bargains can be had! 


However, you move away from this area and it soon looks pretty shabby. I was warned to keep alert, I checked the crime stats,  Mandurah has the highest number of robbery reports recorded in the greater Perth area. I’ve certainly locked everything up tight at night. 

One of the great things about the caravan we like over our camper trailer is that security of being able to lock all the external hatches and the door. Mind you I do have that fearsome looking Burmese on guard. Imagine coming face to face with that look on a dark night. If they can wake her….

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Day 103 & 104: 9 & 10 September – Bikepacking on the Munda Biddi trail

Author: Mr A

9 and 10 September 

From: Dwellingup

To: Pinjarra Hut, Lane Poole Reserve

Distance: Ridden – 68km

I packed up a very soggy tent, the mist thick in the valley, and headed beck in the car to the little village of Dwellingup. I love this place, its a bustle of activity with an adventure race on, people in hiking boots stomping around, motorcyclists at the pub reliving the twists and turns of the roads around the area. 

It was my birthday, and the treat I’d planned was to do an overnight ride on a small section of the worlds longest off-road bike trail – the Munda Biddi. The trail stretches from the hills just east of Perth all the way down to Albany on Australia’s far south coast, a cool 1100km of marked trail.

Touring on the dirt, carrying all your camping gear, preferably avoiding bulky panniers to better enjoy the riding, that’s we call bikepacking. Backpacking with a bike. And I love it – especially solo – I can ride at my pace (not fast!), stop and make a brew when I fancy (which is quite a lot).  It’s certainly easier carrying gear on a bike than on your back, well until the trail gets steep….You can also cover more distance than on foot and explore further, without mixing it with cars that much. 

So the first task was to load the bike, no mean feat as you can see from this photo. Can you spot the item that didn’t make it in? 


The bottle of Jack? Well done…it was my birthday after all. No harm trying. 

So everything is finally loaded and its already early afternoon. The bike is looking her impressively, dark, looming self, and I’m ready for the off. 

Now my training preparation for these rides is called the “muscle memory method” Let me hereby declare at 61 years of age, that no longer works! On the first steep hill I find myself “hiking the bike”, pushing 35kg of dead weight up slippery pea gravel. 

The pain was soon forgotten though when I warmed up and hit some gentler track. The jarrah forest is really spectacular and after a long break from the woods through the arid north of WA, the scenery was touching something primeval in the lizard part of my brain. Which, as some of you know, mostly gets activated after a few too many. 

The trail took me back along the river that I had been paddling, and then further deep into the upper reaches of this reserve. Really wonderful trails that just wandered along through the magifncent strands of giant jarrah.


 I only saw one other group of riders on the track the whole afternoon. Alone with my thoughts I pondered why it is WA invests in a trail like this, and NSW with similar country down the Great Divide does not. Our state can barely get their act together to join up the few off road cycle paths we do have. 

It was late afternoon and it was already starting to get chilly when I arrived at the “hut” that was to be home for the night.


Now I had brought my tent as apparently it was a “busy weekend” and yet not a soul was there. No doors and ends to the building either. The temerpature was dropping to single figures at night so I shivered with anticipation, and not in a good way. I soon had a brew going and my “one pot dinner” bubbling. The latter was a disaster. If you ever see “Sharwood’s Indian Side Dishes”, put it down and move away from that aisle. Oh yuk…Having planned for my culinary poor judgement out came the wraps, Vegemite and cheese. Much better. Then it struck me, here I am on my birthday, choosing to be own my own in the cold, dark, damp woods with not even a tot of bourbon to keen me company? What was I thinking? Well, what I was thinking was “Carpus Diem” (seize the day). I had the privilege  to watch a great leader marshall a group of us sometimes riders around this philosophy and inspired us to do just that. Dave Curran, now CIO at Westpac, got us out there pushing ourselves, both on and off the bikes. I want to take advantage of every chance while I have my legs and lungs to get out there. Even if it happens to be my birthday and I “should” be “celebrating”. This was my celebration of being 61. 

The morning dawned not early enough for me, after my air bed decided to have an “unplanned flattening” in the early hours. That was a low point, literally!

I was packed and off into the mist at sparrow’s. 


Retracing my steps back to Dwellingup, I made it to the pub for a some much needed calorie replacement. A great couple of days. A micro adventure  – turning dreams into memories – I won’t forget my 61st birthday. 

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Day 101 & 102: 7-8 September – The solo micro adventures of Mr A – packrafting and bikepacking galore!

Author: Mr A

Sept 7th

From: Perth

To: Lane Poole Reserve

Distance: Driven – 120km  Riden 15km

When the cat’s away…Mr A gets to play with his toys…on this occasion his packraft and fat bike. Mrs A is in the US and Miss Tassie (our Burmese cat) doesn’t fly until next Wednesday. I had a few days to go off exploring. I had read about an area a 90 minute drive south-east of Perth that had some white water paddling and also great off road biking tracks.

I headed off in the car with camping gear as the Zone is getting some repairs done in Perth. The landscape changed dramatically, forested hills and lush valleys. I’d booked a camp site in the Lane Poole Reserve, 50,000 hectares of outdoor playground with a river winding through jarrah trees and miles of walking and biking trails.

Up went the “Norman No Mates” little hike tent. and I jumped on the bike to scope out what the paddling would be like. Wow…some stretches of flat water interspersed with rapids of varying sizes. This looked interesting! I’d not taken the packraft out on anything like this before.

Sept 8th

From: Charlie’s Flat, Lane Poole Reseve

To: Yarragil, Murray River

Distance: Driven 8km. Paddled 12km. Cycled 20km

It was time to test my metal in some white water. I drove upstream and parked the car, the plan being to paddle down to my camp, jump on the bike and ride back to collect it. I was soon in the water and heading downstream at a fair rate of knots in the strong current. My first little rapid and all was good. I had decided to leave the spray skirt off, trading ease of egress should I be tipped, with the downside of getting some water in the boat. Following the paddling map I soon heard the roar of the “only for the experienced white water canoeist” rapid, and decided as I was on my own, with no helmet, I better portage this one. With a 3.5 kg boat that’s easy. The next rapid was pretty bouncy, but the little boat just bounced over the white water like a wild thing…great fun…some adrenaline released!


I only saw a couple of other boats on the water, and watched a family coming down the rapid behind me…no one looked in control and sure enough dad and his son tipped in. I rushed over as I hadn’t seen the son come up, he was trapped under the boat briefly and then popped out not a happy little chappy. I helped get him out of the water and calmed him down. He probably won’t take a deep bath for a while. And so that’s how people drown, no skills, no risk assessment, just jumped in and went down with no clue how to keep the boat going the right direction.

I was at camp by lunch so drove down steam and left the bike and then paddled down, deflated the raft and strapped it on the rack and cycled back. These boats are so flexible, people just don’t know about them.

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Day 100!: 6 September – Preparing for the send off!

Author: Mr A

From: Karrinyup Waters

To: Country Comfort Hotel, Perth Airport

Distance driven: 23km

Well how timely, 100 days together marks the end of Phase 1 of this tour. Tomorrow Mrs A flies out in the morning for her round the world trip, and I “head for the hills”. After a 3 week interlude while she travels to the US and then the UK, Phase 2 will commence when she returns to join us. Yes…us…by then our fur child will have joined the adventure, the lovely Miss Tasmania, blue Burmese and a camping cat. So today we had to dash off to Pet Barn and buy all sorts of goodies to accomodate her every wish (eat, sleep, poo, purr, repeat). 


This afternoon we took the caravan in for a few bits and pieces to be fixed up at a repairer Zone RV are using for several other customers, thankfully giving us a much better reception than our last attempt in Exmouth. So we waved goodbye and headed off to our motel for the night near the airport (well…almost a night – Catherine has a 3am alarm call…shudder).


A send off dinner was had at a local Chinese. A veritable mountain of prawn crackers was delivered to the table followed by humungous dishes of great seafood. Feeling rather replete. Tomorrow we both go our seperate ways  – a little sad – but also both excited by our respective plans. Watch this space…

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