We had breakfast before dawn. Our route took us initially over flat scrubland. Eventually we turned again on to the North West Highway. There was more traffic on the road and some of it showed evidence of the nomadic life of some of the travellers. The signboard showed the vast distances between our location and the rest of the world……

We came across another Overland group in real trouble. Apparently the truck company’s fuel card had been refused at the previous stop and the passengers had clubbed together to cover the cost of the fuel with the promise from the company that money would be put on the said card before they needed more fuel. They had just stopped for that refuelling and the card was still not operational and the passengers (understandably) were refusing to fund the company again for fear and of not getting their money back. We subsequently learned that they were there for three hours before the situation was resolved. When they reached the National Park the rangers went on to the truck, found it wanting in many ways and this, added to the fact that the company had not paid the Park accommodation fees for over 6 month’s, led to the Overland Company being closed down. The poor backpackers were to be taken to Broome, the next major town,where their tour would end. The moral of the story I guess is to check the viability of your tour company….

Back to our trip. We drove on through the day, eating the lunch sandwiches made at breakfast on the way.

Our next stop was in iron ore mining country. By now the hills had turned deep red and showed the scars of mining. The ant hills were markedly darker. Our road had passed over a long conveyor belt that disappeared over the horizon on both sides of us. This apparently is the means of getting the spoils from the mines to distributing junctions. The town built to support this mining activity is called Tom Price. We reached the Tom Price mid afternoon. After a visit to the supermarket (and bottleshop) for supplies we rode the final comparatively few kilometres to Karijini National Park which was to be our base for the next three days. At Karijini we stayed at an Eco Retreat run by the Gumala Aboriginal Corporation.

We were camping again, but once again the tents were already erected. The first thing you become aware of is the red dust. The earth is red. The terrain I felt was very similar to the African savannah. We watched the sun go down soon after we arrived but weren’t really to appreciate the magic that is Karijini until the following day.

After a good meal it was time bed. As I have said, I had known I was in trouble when I opened up my sleeping bag and read the ‘tropical’ label. In my effort to ensure the smallest pack, I had gone for the lightest – not at all good this night when, as happened, the temperature dropped to 3 degrees overnight. I was cold. I had added the fleece and socks to my usual Overland night attire (a silk shalwar chemise built for me in India). All very exotic but not very warm. Even again adding Keith’s travel towel (I have lost mine and now have a Postage Stamp piece of towelling in penance) I was no warmer. I swear I was shivering so hard the tent was shaking at one stage!

There was a lot of early morning activity as the young people left to swim with manterays and whales or snorkel around the coral reef. Lacking the swimming skills to take advantage of these activities, we had a restful morning as our only committed activity was to take the rather pedestrian glass bottomed boat out to see the coral, which can be found only meters from the shore. After taking advantage of the resort bakery to have breakfast we did our laundry and hung it to dry with a colourful array of other people’s washing…….

Having nothing more pressing to do, we decided to use the morning well by walking to the next bay along, Skeleton Bay. This is what you might call a shark nursery, where shark Mums bring their young. Sort of an early learning centre for sharks I guess…… the most notable in these parts are the whale sharks, the largest known fish. The tide was up, so there was just a small strip of sand between the water and the spiky vegetation that sparsely covers the sand dunes that rise up behind the shore line.

We picked our way along the sea short, initially along the sand and then the flat rocks that straddled the way. The water was totally clear, bar the ripples caused by the tide and breeze. Further out the water was blue before changing to indigo and then there was the white surf breaking over the reef. We wandered along, walking in and out of the shallows.

We met few people but watched the water keenly for shark life. With our usual inimitable timing we were of (of course!) a few days out of time to really expect any sightings – sharks use the area from September to March. No surprise then that we did not see any! We did see a couple of dark shapes moving through the water which we were led to believe were sting rays. We also saw an eel like creature dart away from the shore as we approached and a couple of leaping fish. Despite our lack of shark like sightings, it was a very pleasant stroll and we only turned back when dark clouds gathered over head.

After a fish and salad lunch we set off to learn a bit about coral. There were only a few us on our glass bottomed boat, but we spent a very interesting hour in the shallow water looking at the amazing coral beneath us.

It was fascinating! The Ningaloo Reef stretches from south of Coral Bay up to Exmouth, the most westerly point of Western Australia. There are thought to be over 200 species of Coral in the Ningaloo Reef area. They were all sorts of shapes and surfaces – some like oversized cauliflowers and others had spiky fingers with blue tips. The whole seabed was covered with coral. Most of the coral here is described as ‘hard coral’ and relies on sunlight to survive. Some of the coral started life 35,000 years ago. Occasionally large fish appeared briefly – but there was a constant display of small, colourful fish darting in and out of the coral of the sort found in tropical aquarium shops at home.

The excitements of glass bottomed boats over, it was back to base to pack up our kit on to the bus and a shortish drive to our next destination, Exmouth (pronounced Ex Mouth here!). The terrain was low vegetation with frequent large anthills.

It was becoming dusk as we reached Exmouth. A military town, it is now primarily an Airforce base. We did not in fact stop in Exmouth, but continued on to a campsite at Yardie. We had reached the North West Cape. Here our tented accommodation was already erected (bliss for us seasoned tent putter-uppers!). The tents were also quite tall so you could stand up in them, another appreciated feature after our sometimes tortured experiences of the Peninsula on the Silk Road. They had other useful additions – a 2 inch thick sleeping mat (luxury) and for some a low camp bed ( the height of luxury!). On returning to our tent I was accosted by an Australia bustard (I am reliably informed) that was determined to get into our tent at all costs. I spent some time trying to dissuade it from this course of action and in the end had to abandon my tent visit until it had evacuated the area!

Camp life centred around a central catering hub, very well equipped with barbecue space and tables and chairs and a fire pit. As the evening wore on the wind gathered momentum and it was an extremely turbulent night. All night long the wind whipped around the tent and everything that could, flapped. Not the most restful of sojourns!!

I also discovered with some dismay that my sleeping bag, opened up for the first time and chosen from an array at home on account of its size was ‘for tropical use’. Great when you are in a desert that gets very cold at night. By morning I was found to have socks on, a fleece and Keith’s towel. It was still cold!

Please note the red dust which was to become a long term feature and constant companion of the trip and caused the demise of some favourite items of clothing…….

It was not a good night. Fear about not waking up together with angst regarding the trip itself rendered us both restless and wakeful. At well before 5.00 we were both awake but somewhat reluctant to be off. Would we be rejected for being too old, too unfit or maybe just not being ‘backpackers’?

We had to admit to a fair degree of trepidation as we set off into the dark pre dawn street. There were no people about. A lone car passed by. As we approached the Britannia we saw a tiny figure waiting outside with an enormous rucksack on her back. It turned out to be Maya, a soon to be fellow traveller, from Japan. I think we were all pleased to see each other as an acknowledgement that we were in the right place.

As the day began to get light there was the roar of a truck. The vehicle to be our roving home for the next three weeks had arrived. Our driver/guide/cook/mechanic got out, read our names from a list, let down a short ladder from the back of the truck to take our luggage on board and told us to get in. He made no further comment. We guessed we had been accepted! Next stop Perth youth hostel….. here the balance of the party climbed on board. In our estimation all were under 35: the majority under 30 and the majority of these were under 25. We could have been the grandparents of all of them!

I am sure our assessment of the situation was as quickly assessed by them…. their faces on seeing us was a picture!

All aboard (the bus was full), we took off.

The route!

It did not take long to leave Perth and we were soon out on the Indian Ocean Highway. In ancient times this area was a vast sea, giving rise to the salty limestone sand of the area. We were travelling at sea level. It was what we have come to experience as bush country. The ‘Black Boy’ grasses we had seen on previous visits were very much in evidence. Very little of the land had been cleared for farming. There were few crops. When they did occur, vast sprinkler systems could be seen.

There was very little traffic. The ubiquitous telephone wires ran parallel to the road. There were very occasional buildings. Our first stop was a town called Lancelin. Originally a whaling town (whales were hunted for oil), conservation has seen an end to this industry and it has become an area based on fishing, mainly lobster. Most of the large villas dotted around the town are the holiday homes of high earners from the mining industry east of Perth. It had all the trappings of a sleepy village by the sea. The deep blue ocean ran up as white foam onto the beach. We headed to the bakery which was doing a great trade in breakfast pies and sausage rolls……. we sat outside the bakery making the small talk of a newly gathered group of people – all secretly weighing up each other, and all wondering what these two elderly people were doing there, including us!

As we left Lancelin behind, the trees stopped and we were looking east over a flat fertile plain and soon came to our next stop, the Pinnacles. These were stone pillars bristling out of bright yellow sand.

It was a remarkable sight. Initially we were reminded of the rocks of Cappodocia in Turkey, but on closer inspection they had a very different form. The limestone columns were around a maximum of three meters high. There are various theories about their formation, but there seemed to be no clear front runner. Several theorists describe them as the solidified tree roots exposed over time by winds. Who knows – but they made an interesting interlude of walking and pondering in bright but breezy sunshine.

We drove on and eventually stopped for lunch at Jurien Bay. Another whaling town now reduced to fishing village. We stopped on the coast road and had our first truck lunch of the trip. It went very well (from our experience!). The truck larder was well stocked with goodies and people in the main turned to to lend a hand.

Shortly after lunch we stopped at the Sandy Cape National Park where sand boarding took place for those who wanted to partake of the activity. Keith and I watched with others as they hurled themselves down the dunes on candle waxed boards. Interesting ……

Back on the truck it was, apart from a brief stop for petrol, and a later stop off at a bottle shop to take on alcoholic ‘vittels’ for the long haul to Kalbarri, our stop for the night. Although only 7.30, it had been dark for some time when we arrived and we had driven for well over an hour in the red after glow of an amazing sunset. By Kalbarri we were in total darkness save the light of a nearly full moon.

We unloaded our bags and decamped into our dormitory accommodation. It was communal but clean and the shower was good. We had a good supper during which the vexed question of who wanted to do some abseiling on the morrow was raised. I think I might……..

22nd August