Tea on the verandah and more retirement plans...

Next day, we backtracked a bit to drive 20kms off the Nullabor to the Eyre Bird Sanctuary. Although it was a bit of a trek down a rough 4WD track to get there, we were happy to lower our tyre pressure and have a look as it had been highly recommended by some folk we had met back in SA. It was totally worth it. What a magical spot. The sanctuary is at the site of an old telegraph station that was closed in 1930, fell into disrepair then was re-opened in 1977 as a bird sanctuary and weather station. It feels totally wild and isolated and is managed completely by volunteers, couples who come for three months to record bird activity, send off weather reports, look after visitors (day and overnight) and tend the veggie garden. They were so friendly and welcoming - giving us a tour, telling us all about the place and then chatting over tea and homemade biscuits on the veranda while we kept an eye out for birds. They gave the kids milo and colouring in sheets of rare bird species (Zara completed hers perfectly with all the correct colours and Sash decorated his with lots of 5s and Ws). We did a short walk around the area and out towards the dunes before fossicking around in the museum which was full of old whale bones and stories of the last manager of the telegraph station – a man recognised for his courage in the face of great white sharks, long-distance running and nasty habit of beating his 12 children until they bore life-long scars. As we left, a massive flock of Major Mitchel Cockatoos flew over our car, which was kind of a relief because we wanted to love the place but felt that the lack of birds was going to make it hard to rave about the bird sanctuary. Nonetheless, Kate and Bill added ‘volunteer at Eyre Bird Sanctuary’ to their list of retirement plans (Kate suggested doing it when the kids are teenagers until Bill pointed out that 3 months of isolation and counting birds would be most teenagers worst nightmare… fair point).

Back on the highway, we headed for Balladonia then turned south on a 4WD track towards the Cape Arid NP. We pulled over and spent the night on the side of the road, in a spot that had a gazzilion ant holes but apparently no ants. We ate a veggie-less meal which was a bit weird but did the job. It was lovely to not have anyone else around – the kids could make plenty of noise, and we were accosted by no-one!

Mother's darlings, father's buggers

Later that day we pulled up at Cocklebiddy roadhouse. By this time we were heartily disoriented due to the time differences and lack of fresh fruit and veg. We decided to set up camp in the dusty paddock of a caravan park so we could have a hot shower and grab a meal at the roadhouse restaurant. It probably won the title of ‘least scenic campsite yet’ but the showers were sort of hot and the washing machines worked… We were warned to have dinner early because they had a busload of folk coming for dinner at 7pm. They arrived early, shortly after we ordered, and we were surprised when an elderly fellow suddenly launched himself at our table, pointed a gnarled finger at our children and announced, ‘mother’s darlings, father’s buggers’, before threatening to get rid of Bill’s beard in his shearing shed, then shuffling back to his table apparently pleased with his effort at social engagement. We quickly finished our unappetising meal then slipped back into our tent before we could be accosted again.

Next morning we awoke unreasonably early due to time differences and were nearly ready to hit the road by 9am (a miracle for us - the original slow starters...). Of course we were still the last ones to leave the caravan park. Just before we left we were pleased to see some old friends (i.e. we had chatted to them for 10 minutes in Eucla) pull up to play the Cocklebiddy golf hole (there is a golf course that runs the length of the Nullabor - quirky idea but a somewhat transparent ploy to give people something to do on the Nullabor crossing apart from complain about the lack of sites and long distances). They had been on the road since 7am so we stopped being smug about our 9am start and hit the road in silence.

Nullabor security patrol...

And then off we went across the Nullabor in earnest – to engage another mad fruit/vegetable eating frenzy before the WA border and to spend the equivalent of our combined annual income on fuel. We stopped at the whale-less Head of Bight to torture ourselves by reading accounts of the fabulous things we could have seen had we been there in July/August – but the cliffs were pretty spectacular so things weren't all that bad. On our first real Nullabor night we stopped at one of the numerous rest areas to camp. It seemed that we were alone there, but as we were putting out the campfire and starting to get ready for bed, a man suddenly leapt out of the trees yelling ‘nullabor security patrol’! We soon regained our composure when we realised he was a harmless odd person, travelling across the desert with his wife (although we never saw her...). They had set up camp on the other side of the rest stop and he was pretty desperate for some social interaction. He told us that the Nullabor was a happening and busy place compared to where they were from (WA wheat belt – near Hyden). He stood and told us funny stories of his life in a slightly manic manner before apologising for not asking us anything about our life then disappearing into the night again. We went to bed slightly bemused and just a tad apprehensive… 

At Border Town, we dutifully admired the big kangaroo and the sign that tells you the distances to various parts of the world, while we ate carrots, parsley, cucumbers and raw broccoli until we were green in the face. We crossed the border into WA and pulled up in Eucla where the kids played happily on a playground that had not been updated since the 1960s (hugest, most dangerous see-saw we have ever seen, a painted old metal tractor and a squeaky swing). Fortunately, they both survived. Bill purchased a lettuce and 2 tomatoes for an exhorbitant price – little did we know that they would be our last fresh veggies for a long time… The kids and Kate were keen to visit the nearby ruins of the old telegraph station (the kids keen because it’s where the Are we There Yet? family eat sandy sandwiches, and Kate because she visited the site with her family many moons ago and got in big trouble for dropping her new sneakers down a chimney of a sand-buried house). Ruins were kind of cool, no sign of Kate’s sneakers but we just stopped Sash from dropping his sandals down the same chimney as a mark of respect for his mother.

Rainbows and lollipops at Fowlers Bay

Bidding farewell to Ceduna, we pointed our noses towards the Nullabor. We stopped for lunch at a fabulous place called Pt Sinclaire (Cactus Beach) which has a picnic shelter decorated with sea-themed mosaics done by local school children and a rather sad memorial to a young local boy called Wade who was taken by a Great White Shark just near the jetty in 1975. There is now a shark-proof swimming area that would have been great if the weather had been a bit warmer.

Then onto our next camping spot at Fowlers Bay. Although a few people had recommended that we camp and fish here, the locals in the town of Fowlers Bay all seemed helpfully confused about the location of the camp site. So we followed our noses across the dunes and eventually found a good spot. There was only one other tent there (two friendly guys from Adelaide who were getting away from it all for a couple of weeks). A massive sand dune next to our tent guaranteed the kids (and ok Kate too) endless hours of amusement and was soon covered by trails of little footsteps up and down. Sash was upset to lose his much loved Yarra Water lanyard (donated by beloved Big Sash) somewhere on the sand dune. So many hours of frantic digging with plastic spades and hands followed – to no avail. The lanyard goes back to the earth…

Next morning was a bit overcast and drizzly but Kate set off for a morning walk along the beach. Not a soul around and the beach looked almost insanely lovely – the sunrise and a dramatic sky setting off aquamarine water and perfect white sand. Flocks of Major Mitchel cockatoos emerged out of the bushes flashing their pink wings, and tiny jumping birds with long skinny legs popped along the waves. The morning sun lit up the huge rock cliffs overlooking the water. Then (of course) a massive double rainbow appeared. It felt like elves and munchkins should pop out from behind the rocks and do a little dance and song about how wonderful life is…  But that’s what it’s all about isn’t it?!

We stayed at Fowlers Bay for a few nights – unable to tear ourselves away from the rainbows. We did the usual things –fishing, walking, riding, driving on the beach and running up and down dunes. Bill did some drinking with the fishing blokes from Adelaide, Zara read her books, and Sash practiced writing number 8 (the racing track) in the sand with a stick.

Weather balloons and wombats in sunny Ceduna

After nervously sticking our heads in the model of a great white shark at Streaky bay (biggest ever caught) and buying completely flavourless rainbow ice-creams (I’m not kidding it was really weird, they were brightly coloured but completely without any taste - serves us right I guess for choosing rainbow flavour), we drove onwards and upwards to sunny Ceduna. We stayed at Shelley Beach Caravan Park where we unpacked our 700 pet beetles (probably causing an infestation in Ceduna – sorry guys...) and enjoyed our first showers in a while. The place seemed to be teeming with children and soon the kids had happily joined a gang that ruled the caravan park on foot and bikes. We met some other families travelling with kids (hats off to the De Sliva family travelling with their 4 boys!) and it was great to compare notes as we ate our dinner in the faux Hawaiian grass hut camp kitchen.

Next day we drove into town and visited the information centre, which was manned by possibly the most unfriendly person we had ever met. When Kate asked whether there was any whales to be seen nearby he looked at her incredulously and asked scornfully where we were from. Whales are never seen, he informed us, before June (idiots). Kate pointed out that all the literature said the season started on May 1 (a few days away) but he was scornful of the literature too. So we just listened obediently while he gave us a fast-paced and snappy monologue on things to do around Ceduna (although we hadn’t asked him about this) while he kept a close eye on the children to make sure they didn’t breathe on any of the souvenir junk for sale.

Next day, we visited a wombat sanctuary where a woman and her daughter care for a menagerie of creatures that have been injured or orphaned. They do a great job and it was cool to see the wombats – including a pair of rare white-haired wombats and some tiny pink babies. Bit depressing to hear some of the stories of mistreatment and cruelty but heartening to witness the passion and commitment of these 2 women (who can never have a holiday, even for one night.. shudder…).  

Burramundi burgers at the cactus café for lunch before stocking up on books at the op shop where the kind ladies praised our two sweet little girls for their quiet attention to the books (Sash’s hair has grown so long now that he gets called a girl on a daily basis – worse since B cut his hair in order to get it out of his eyes but gave him a very pretty little bob!). Zara and Kate visited the indigenous art and culture centre where we watched some of the local artists at work and where the kind lady gave us a bunch of wrist bands and posters from Naidoc Week 2011 (posters are possibly the most useless item for us at the moment, but it was a nice thought). Next stop, the Bureau of Meteorology (as recommended by our buddy at the information centre) to watch the weather balloon being launched. It was somewhat off-putting that the young meteorologist seemed totally bewildered by the apparent interest of a crowd of tourists but we all ooohed and ahhhhed appreciatively as the large orange balloon floated away. Then we left...

Beetles in heaven

Next stop was lovely Elliston, home of the BEST playground in Australia (so far). The community banded together to apply for grants, then built this incredible playground, visitors’ centre and picnic ground. With so many playground stops, we are becoming quite critical of various arrangements, but this one gets a big thumbs-up! We actually stopped there so Bill and Zara could do school but Sash could take full advantage of the cool set-up. He had a great time and made a little buddy (although got quite distressed that his buddy, Jarrah, couldn’t pronounce his name properly and called him ‘Shasa’ - a bit weird considering he still calls himself 'Sasa').

We also visited the local op-shop to buy a couple of pieces of clothing and to stock Zara up on chapter books. We have to stop at every possible op shop and second-hand bookshop to keep up with her insatiable appetite for books. She sucks them up them almost as quickly as we can buy them – hence she is reading some very strange, old-fashioned, sometimes pretty trashy and often inappropriate novels - from Anne of Green Gables (we can’t even understand half the words in this!) to the Babysitters Club (teenage girls who are interested in shopping and boys!). Harry Potter and Narnia are still her favourites (we’re reading them with her at night, then she re-reads the chapters during the day). Fortunately, the girl is not fussy and would just as happily read the cereal box as a work of great literature. Caught her attempting ‘For the Term of His Natural Life’ in the back of the car recently because she had finished all her books – definitely not appropriate reading for a 6-year old. Must seek out some more children’s books soon. But it is wonderful to see her having the time and space to nurture her love of reading – one of the massive benefits of this year away.

We finally tore ourselves away from Elliston and headed up towards Streaky Bay. We stopped at Murphy’s haystacks (cool big rocks that were mistaken by some dope for haystacks...) and then headed to a couple of beachside campgrounds only to find them full. It was getting dark and we were starting to kick ourselves for farting around in Elliston for so long, but we pushed onto Streaky Bay with the idea of staying at the caravan park. When we got there, however, it was so busy and we couldn't bear the thought of camping smack up against our neighbours so decided to push onto another camping spot at Perlubie Beach, just north of Streaky Bay. Meanwhile we were all starving and getting grumpy so we looked around for some dinner. After much debate, we decided a bit reluctantly on pizza – which ended up being some of the best pizza we’ve ever eaten! Relaxing on the jetty, stuffing our faces with sensational gourmet pizza while Bill pulled in a couple of squid for the next day’s lunch, our equalibrium was quickly restored… 

It was well and truly dark when we rolled back into the car and headed off to find Perlubie Beach – which was particularly challenging owing to road closures and a distinct lack of signage. We finally got there and set up in the dark, sidestepping millions of enormous black leggy beetles (turned out they took over the beach every evening as soon as the sun went down). In the morning (warm, sunny and perfect) we were thrilled to wake to find ourselves camped right on yet another beautiful beach. Sunrises and sunsets were magic and the water was clear and turquoise. Zara and Kate did school just metres from the lapping water. We swam, fished, walked and generally enjoyed ourselves. Also nice to meet Zack and Kirsty from Cairns who accompanied Bill fishing and shared their cuttlefish catch with us.

A couple of blissful days followed and just as we were deciding to stay there forever, the wind and rain hit and nearly lifted the tent off the ground, complete with sleeping children. Friendly fellow campers kindly came and told us that a king tide was expected in the next day or so, and should we stay we would most likely be washed away to South America. So, after some consideration, we decided to pack up in the driving rain (shoving 700 black beetles and at least 3 mice into our trailer as we did so) and hotfoot it to greener (and drier) pastures. Such are the highs and lows of camping!

Walkers' Rock and future plans...

Bidding farewell to our dolphin buddies, we bumped our way out of beautiful Coffin Bay National Park. We decided to backtrack to Port Lincoln to stock up on groceries (K was a bit concerned that we might run out of Tabasco) and to buy new and better batteries to power our fridges etc. Then onward ever onward – we headed up the western side of the Eyre peninsular. It was a short drive because there was not much left of the day. We set up camp at yet another lovely white beach – Walkers Rocks near Elliston.  We have been trying to spend 2 nights anywhere we stop so we are not constantly unpacking and packing up again – and to maintain that delicious feeling of ambling around Australia – so we spent the next day pottering around the campsite fixing some bits and pieces (Bill displayed his superior sewing skills by fixing a tear in the camper-trailer cover), ran up and down the sand dunes, collected shells and went for a bike-ride along the dirt road.

Our fellow campers were grey nomads from all over. It’s mind-blowing, the grey nomad thing – there are SO many of them and they drift around the country in their caravans, some of them for a few months but many of them for much longer if not permanently. It’s like when you first have a baby and stop full-time work and suddenly realise that there’s another world outside the office where parents pushing prams all emerge during working hours to take over the streets – while you are working, you just don’t realise that this alternate world exists. And go almost anywhere (caravan accessible) in Australia and you will find an army of retirees sitting outside their vans in the sun, or heading off at dawn armed with fishing rods, or setting up picnic lunches (with thermoses) overlooking fabulous views. Whether they have a rusty old 1960s caravans or the taj mahal of caravans, they just seem to have a great time. While some are sour-faced and grumpy, mostly they are friendly and relaxed. The kids have happily come across a few kind, grandkid-missing folk who dish out sweet biscuits in their caravans. But what a life they lead! We can see ourselves there already. Indeed, we are already discussing our preferred future set-up!