So the Lord God formed from the soil every kind of animal and bird, and brought them to man to see what he would call them; and whatever he called them, that was their name. - Genesis 2: 19-20

Greg's good friend, Shep, names things. He named his Land Rover "Bruce", the vintage Bentley is Betty, the Heaslip Offroad Campertrailer is "Precious" his old Subaru was "Blue Thunder" his gold coloured Honda AWD is Nugget and our box trailer (painted black) that he sometimes borrows "Black Cloud". So it came to pass that when he saw Terry's little A-van, he christened it "Hobbit Hall" and Terry became "The Hobbit". Actually Terry is small, wiry and bearded and more resembles a garden gnome, but the Hobbit he became.

The Hobbit (Terry)	Hobbit Hall	The Hobbit relaxes at Pt Sinclair

So the four of us started out on our trip to Western Australia, Terry towing his A-van with a Subaru Liberty, Shep driving Land Rover Bruce with Precious behind, and Greg and I in our Nissan Pathfinder pulling a brand new Goldstream Crown camper-trailer. As I have family there, we decided to meet in Mildura. This gave Greg and me the opportunity to have a short visit with the grandchildren before our big trip. We told Terry and Shep that we would meet them along the service road which runs next to Deakin Street between 15th and 16th Streets, practically right outside their caravan park. Deakin is part of the Sturt Highway, the main road to Adelaide, and the service road even has a parking lot- an ideal place to meet. We found them south of 16th Street, parked on the side of the busy highway. "What's a service road?" they asked.

On the journey west, we communicated with one another by UHF radio. Greg and Shep have radios installed in their 4 wheel drives,

GME Tx3220

while Terry and Dawn borrowed hand-helds from Greg.

GME Tx670

We were due to meet Merri and Dawn in Wilmington, SA, and soon crossed the border from Victoria into South Australia. As we entered Renmark, Terry called and told us that he needed petrol. We spotted a petrol station near a 'T' intersection where we needed to turn left. It was morning tea time and we had been travelling for two hours. Shep's voice came clearly over the radio announcing that we were going to turn right at the intersection and head down to the river to find a nice place for a break. Renmark has a lovely rest area right in the middle of the main street. There are shade trees, toilets, tables and a caravan parking area. So we pulled in, poured our drinks, ate our fruit and waited for Terry...and waited for Terry...and waited for Terry. I even walked back to the petrol station to find no sign of the Hobbit. Calling him on the UHF was unsuccessful, because the radios only have a range of about 10 kilometres line of sight.

Finally, the two remaining vehicles had to set off. Eventually we managed to contact Terry by mobile phone. He had taken off and was well ahead of us at this point. Greg told him to pull off at a rest area, have a cuppa and we would catch up. Now, Wilmington is almost 300 km north of Adelaide and we turned off the Sturt and took B64. There was still no sign of the Hobbit. When at last we were both in mobile phone range, we discovered that Terry was on the wrong road on his way to Adelaide. He was turning to get on to the northern route. We then switched to plan B, and told him to meet us at Burra for lunch. This historic town has a lovely picnic area on the creek and we spent quite awhile there unsuccessfully trying to contact the Hobbit on both the radio and mobile phone. Again we could wait no longer, and made our way to Wilmington. There we were to meet Dawn who was travelling up from Victor Harbour where she had been visiting a friend. Dawn was picking up Shep's wife, Merri, at Adelaide airport on the way north. Merri had been spending some time with her daughter on the NSW central coast, and flew down to Adelaide from there.

Because of some information he found on the net, Greg chose Wilmington for a meeting place as you can camp for free at the showground. WRONG! The showground had a big sign saying "NO CAMPING".
Because of its central position in town, we chose the Beautiful Valley Caravan Park, which is certainly not beautiful. Wilmington was named Beautiful Valley until it was changed in 1876 and the caravan park was obviously named for that. There are far better places to camp in the area: Mt Remarkable and Spear Creek come to mind. There were also signs for Wilmington Bush Camp and Caravan Park a little way out of town. Maybe next time.....

Not long after we arrived, Dawn pulled in towing her Windsor. She and Merri had stopped to shop in Melrose. This caused Shep to complain about filling up the little storage space they had with souvenirs. And not long after that, the Hobbit who was lost, was now found, happily oblivious to the worry he caused Greg and Shep. It was that night that Shep and Greg decided on the order of the convoy. Greg whom Shep named "Grand Poobah" would lead; Terry, the "Hobbit", would travel behind, followed by Dawn, "Fuzzy Blue" (so named because of her red hair), and Tail End Charlie would be Shep and Merri, call sign "Arkaroo 21". This had two advantages: Terry & Dawn would always be between two others and should not get lost, and the two cars with the best UHF radio range would be at the opposite ends of the convoy.

In the morning we followed an oft repeated routine and formed up into our convoy. It was a pretty uneventful trip through Port Augusta and across the Eyre Peninsula with escalating petrol prices. During morning tea at a rest stop near Iron Knob, Dawn discovered a bit of the undercarriage of her Falcon was dragging, so Shep (David) grabbed his duct tape, crawled under the car, and effected a bush mechanic style repair which was to last the whole journey.

Shep & Dawn under the Falcon	The Big Galah

The Big Galah at Kimba, a town at the halfway point across the country, was too good a photo opportunity and all the galahs gathered for a snapshot. When we stopped for lunch at Kyancutta, Terry popped into the little shop to buy bread rolls and a coke and is still reeling with shock at the prices. This is why Greg and I take a packed lunch every day. In the late afternoon, we arrived at Streaky Bay Caravan Park, Shep's addition to our itinerary, and a truly beautiful place - well worth a longer visit. We had a camping spot on the bay with water views. After drinks at Shep and Merri's tent, we turned in and slept to the peaceful and lulling sound of the ocean.

With fond thoughts of returning one day, we headed north the next morning, pulling in at Smoky Bay for a look. I noticed that Shep and Merri's electrical connection between the car and camper was dragging on the road. It was in a sorry state. Because this powered the indicator & Brake lights on the trailer, it was imperative that it was repaired. Greg reached into the Aladdin's cave in the rear of our 4WD and found the necessary spare parts, while Shep was ready with the duct tape. Meanwhile the rest of us had a look around Smoky Bay. This little settlement faces in a different direction from our last night's camp and it was blowing a cold, damp wind. There was an old pier and boat ramp for fisher people and holiday accommodation lined the beach. Merri found a nest with seagull chicks. For some unfathomable reason, I have an interest in public toilets and there was an odd one there. It was round and concrete, perhaps made from an old tank. Despite its small exterior, it housed two loos, quite cleverly. I must remember to bring a camera when nature calls.

After all repairs were affected, the convoy started off again, stopping in Ceduna, the last main centre before the Nullarbor, to have morning tea and to stock up on supplies. Not long after we took a diversion to Point Sinclair (or Del la Hunte depending on which sign you read), near Cactus Beach, to have lunch. Travelling south from Penong, we followed a dirt road which led to a causeway with blue ocean on one side and pink water on the other. Past the Cactus Beach picnic area, we drove down to a lovely spot with a pier and a shelter. There was also a small netted swimming area. Cactus Beach has a bush camping area nestled among the dunes, but it was too early, and we are not surfers. We returned to the Eyre Highway and turned off again at Fowler's Bay

Actually, Natalie tried to get us to take a road that no longer existed, but we asked a farmer's wife on her way to meet the school bus, and she told us that there was a new road further on. The new road, largely dirt, lead to a beautiful holiday community, popular with fishing people and four wheel drivers keen to take on the dunes and what dunes they were! They towered over the town ready to cover it, as they had already enveloped the old buildings in their sandy slopes. The Fowler's Bay Van Park was okay with more circular concrete showers and toilets, but the environment was spectacular. There was another pier, this time full of fishermen and women. One knocked on our Camper Trailer door and showed us a large squid he had caught. Later we walked along the pier. Greg wanted to four wheel drive over the dunes to a seal colony on the other side, but we didn't have time and marked it for a visit on the way home.

Sand dunes creeping up on Fowlers Bay	Nullarbor Road Sign	Animals Crossing Sign

The next day dawned clear and we took the road to the Eyre Highway through Coorabie, which had about three buildings. Our next port of call was Head of Bight which proved to be one of the most unforgettable experiences of the trip. First we had morning tea and then entered a compact whale interpretive centre. After we paid a small fee, we went through some doors that led to a series of large walkways along the cliffs. For two hours we admired the beautiful scenery including the spectacular Bunda Cliffs and the lovely whales. Mums and calves were in abundance and sporadically performed, just missing the shutters of our cameras, for this is where the Southern Right Whales give birth. Two or three families were close in shore and their moans gave a magic to the air. Luckily Greg brought his video camera and was able to get some excellent footage.

Whales at Head of Bight	More Whales

There is a sign at the start of the boardwalk which stated that there were 56 whales in the bay that day. We were told that only the previous week they had a count of over 120 whales.

We lunched there as well and then travelled on, surrendering our fruit and vegetables at Border Village to a rigorous inspection. At least I only had 70% of a garlic to discard. By this time it had turned cloudy, windy and cold with a bit of rain...here in an area renowned for its lack of precipitation.

The Big Kangaroo at Border Village

At this point, we had well and truly traversed the official Nullarbor. We were all surprised to find lots of trees on the treeless plain, more than on most of the roads around Broken Hill or for that matter the Hay Plain. Maybe inland is more typical.

We booked at the Eucla Caravan Park which was nicer than other accommodation on the Nullabor. Most of the roadhouses (*Petrol Station usually with accommodation) were bare and unwelcoming. We were going to have dinner at the restaurant, but realised it would be horribly expensive- $25 for a steak. Sauce and vegetables were extra. Merri and Shep did stay and had a roast dinner for a reasonable price.

Rainbow over Eucla Van Park	Old Telegraph Station	Travellers Cross	John Eyre Monument

For the first time traveller, I might say a word here about roadhouses. Order and pay for a coffee at an isolated roadhouse on the Eyre Highway (or the Stuart Highway for that matter) and you are very likely to be pointed to a table which contains some mugs, a kettle and a can of International Roast. Buy a loaf of bread and it will be frozen. It is the "outback", after all. These places have limited staff and exist for the truckies who rumble by regularly as part of the daily grind, not for the trendy tourist who stops there once in a lifetime. As far as value for money is concerned, it is better to pack food for the day, a thermos of hot water and some Robert Timms Coffee Bags. Take your breaks at one of the many lovely rest areas along the way.

After a cold night, the dawn brought the sun again. Before we left Eucla, we decided to do the tourist thing and visited the large cross, illuminated at night, which is dedicated to all Christians passing by. Next to the cross is the John Eyre Memorial. We also went down for a look at the Old Telegraph Station. We were too early for the Meteorological Station. While Greg got petrol, I decided to walk to the Old Telegraph Station ruins, but when I saw on a sign that it was 4 kilometres away, I walked part way and hitched the rest with Greg. The station was very lonely - partly covered by shifting dunes. Back in town, we went into the little museum and there learned about the Nullarbor Nymph. A comely lass, she has been observed running naked near the highway. The boys kept their eyes peeled after that.

After observing the sparse nature of roadhouse camping in general, we opted to make our next camp at a huge rest area 43 km east of Cocklebiddy. We tucked our campers in the scrub among low trees and headed off in the two 4X4's to a lookout on the Eyre Bird Observatory Road. On the way the big excitement was an overturned road train that had failed to negotiate a bend in the highway. It was lying on its side like a huge dragon fallen to earth. We did not plan to visit the Bird Observatory. They prefer it if you stay overnight, because the road to the coast is four wheel drive only, winds down a cliff and takes hours to negotiate. We would have had to book and then leave our caravans and campers at the top. From the lookout we could see the top of Baxter Cliffs- not very impressive. That night, back at camp, we huddled in our own vehicles against a fierce wind and driving showers.

Overturned Truck

The next day, Monday, we had an early start, despite Greg having to fix Dawn's indicator plug. He also discovered her caravan brakes were not connected and decided against fixing them himself as he was unsure whether polarity was critical. For morning tea, we stopped at the Caiguna Blowhole, only to discover it was a cave opening that blew air and not water. It was a bit of an anti-climax. The road here follows a line of cliffs and a tableland to the north. It is also "Australia's longest straight road" at 146.6 km.

The Caiguna Blowhole	90 Mile straight Road Sign

After lunching at a rest area, we got petrol at Balladonia and looked around the museum that arose from Skylab crashing nearby. The mayor actually fined NASA for littering. We greedily paid a fortune for the only fresh fruit and tomatoes we saw since the border. Vegetables were frozen or canned, as was bread (frozen only, not canned).

Then it was on to Fraser Range Station, a lovely van park on a sheep station just outside of Norseman. There was an open fire lit at night and we chatted with some grey nomads, but we retired early. We were now on full WA time - 1.5 hours behind NSW.

Fraser Range Station	Fraser Station house

Hooray! We finally awarded ourselves a rest day. We enjoyed the quiet night and a chance to catch up on some laundry. It was a good day to relax. During a short walk up the hill, we were rewarded with a pleasant view and some lovely flowers. Steps on the walk were created using outback ingenuity and scrap metal. Afterwards Greg and I went for a bike ride up to the main highway on a very corrugated dirt road. Not only did my bottom hurt, but we discovered that my front wheel was warped. The sheep on this station were a breed raised for meat and grow hair, not wool, so no mulesing occurred.
Fraser Range is stocked with Damara Fat Tail meat sheep as opposed to merino sheep. Damara sheep have no wool and are browsers as opposed to sheep that graze and goats that strip vegetation.
Anyway, by this time we were a bit starved for fresh vegetables and a lady with a lovely fresh cucumber was greeted with outrageous offers for the contents of her basket.

Despite this, we enjoyed our stay and left refreshed on the next day when we travelled the short distance to Norseman where we stayed at the van park. A note for campers: some of the Big 4 parks in WA are now Acclaim Parks and you can get generous sliding discounts every time you stay in another park of that brand. Norseman is named for a horse who kicked up a gold nugget and started a Goldrush. The town is proud of its desert mining heritage and there is a corrugated iron sculpture of camels decorating a roundabout near the centre of town.

Greg patting the statue of Norseman	The tin camels at Norseman

The shop had fresh veggies and we had coffee in a little cafe whose female proprietor called Terry "young man". The town has lots to do. Four of us proceeded to Beacon Hill lookout and a short interpretive walk with information on mining history. Here you could look down on the working mine. Then we went to the doll museum. The owner had the largest doll collection in Western Australia in a shop called Dollykissangel. Amongst the plain and mundane were beautiful dolls worth thousands. One had provenance from Princess Anne. There are over 50000 antiques, teddies, dolls and collectables. After that, we travelled to a short Woodland Walk where Dawn and I learned to tell a gimlet from a salmon gum from a coral gum. This information has since been forgotten, by me at least. Shep and Merri chose to spend their day differently and went on an interesting historical drive, but I'll leave that story to them.

In the evening we went to the local workers club for a meal. Shep found camaraderie among some fellow army veterans, but we all were impressed by the friendliness and helpfulness of the locals.

All this time, we were trying to get in touch with Caryll and Denis who were doing Western Australia from the north down. It happened that they were leaving Kalgoorlie on the morning of the day we were to arrive. We organised to have morning tea together at Kambalda, 55 km south of Kalgoorlie. We finally arrived at Kambalda and it was kiss, kiss, hug, hug and a brief examination of the new camper trailers in our convoy. Then a quick cuppa, a wave and it was off again.

Kalgoorlie is a major centre with any shop or service you may need. It exists because of the gold mines and the water that is piped in from near Perth. As a tourist centre, it is also very busy. We were told to make sure we booked our caravan park sites before we arrived. Other travellers have been moved off the so-called free camping spots mentioned in the books. So we arrived at the Prospector Holiday Park to discover that a motor home had broken down in Terry's booked spot. We waited with Terry while the motor home owners poked about, started loads of washing and gave no sign of preparing to leave. After about two hours, an auto-electrician got the thing moving, but not before the owner had a leisurely lunch. Eventually Terry could set up his A-van.

We spent the rest of the day shopping for essentials at Coles, Woolworths, Bunnings etc. My bicycle not only had a bent wheel, but also a flat tyre, so we found a bike shop where the repairs could be carried out. The locals were friendly and joked a bit. Today I seemed to be losing things, well actually, misplacing things, but I guess that's what happens when you are old and stressed.

On the next day we started out early, four of us heading to the Mining Hall of Fame which is on the site of Hannan's original gold mine. In the modern building were many displays and cases full of beautiful jewelry. Economics and banking seemed to be very important and worthy of their own sections. We went on an underground mine tour. All of us were squished into a small cage elevator with a lovely young female trainee. Greg is still smiling when he remembers it. Back on the surface we witnessed a rather boring gold pour, which turned out not to be gold. Greg and I even panned for gold in a water hole, an unsuccessful venture. As we left, we enjoyed the lovely gardens, one a Chinese style, in honour of some of the miners from that country, and the other planted with Eremophilas. These versatile plants never cease to amaze me with their hardiness and many different forms. The Emu Bush is an Eremophila.

At 6 pm we all went on a tour of Langtree's Bordello. Because of its mining history and lack of women in the early days, Kalgoorlie has the only legal brothels in WA. We heard about the tour from other grey nomads on the journey and thought it might be interesting. It was fascinating to see the different themed rooms: oriental, sports, back of a car, Roman orgy, haystack... We learned of the measures to preserve the health of the employees: medical checks, plastic mattresses, clean sheets with every client, and showers in every room. We also saw the private entrance that public figures used to gain secretive access to the bordello. However, the tour cost $25 each and only lasted 42 minutes so we felt it was a bit of a rip-off.

Saturday was another sunny Kalgoorlie day. We spent some of the morning stocking up on groceries since the prices in this big centre were quite reasonable. We found a traditional butcher and purchased a week's worth of meat. Then we went to the Kalgoorlie branch of the Museum of Western Australia. There was a pit head with a glass lift and we rode to the top. The views were great. The displays were varied too, from an interactive science room to union banners to sandalwood "pullers".

A flowering Gum Tree	Kalgoorlie Mine Head	View from the top of the glass lift	The lift down to the Underground Mine

At the other end of town we found the arboretum, with lots of native trees and a lovely walk. This was where we found our first "risk" sign. Western Australia has a variety of these notices and we collected photos of them. This one was a "Water Risk" next to a little pond. During our journey, we found "Coast Risk", "Mosquito Risk", "Poison Risk", "Cave Risk" and even a "Boardwalk Risk" among others. The signs carry a list of hazards to avoid at each location. You can walk over a blowhole and peer down it, but don't miss the nearby "risk" sign . Shep declared, "Western Australia - State of Risk!"

After the arboretum, we headed to the pub we were told about with the mine shaft in the floor. There is a mine shaft covered by a glass plate right in the centre of the patron area of the bar. We had a drink at the bar and Dawn declared that this was the first time she had ever sat at a bar for a drink. At 5 pm we made our way to the Super Pit lookout to observe the blasting. This open cut gold mine is huge, Grand Canyon in scale, and was created by Alan Bond buying up many small holdings. They post the time of the daily explosion and every tourist in Kalgoorlie must have been at that lookout.

The next day we left Kalgoorlie and travelled about 30 km to Coolgardie. Their big festival was the previous week and the town appeared to be closed down. According to a local couple, who were very helpful, the council couldn't afford to keep the tourist office open on weekends. The museums were also closed for renovations. Wandering across the wide main street, we looked at some beautiful and interesting old buildings, a park with old machinery and a train.

Coolgardie Council Office	Denver Hotel at Coolgardie	Hotel in Coolgardie

Then we headed down a long dirt road to Burra Rock. This was a CALM (Department of Land Management) campsite, free and well-maintained. We camped under some low trees and climbed the rock.

View from top of Burra Rock	The Yabbie Dam at Burra Rock	Weather worn Rock on top of Burra Rock Which we called 'Dog Rock'

These large rocks are water catchments and on top, have low walls to direct water into a dam. Most of the towns here and in the wheat belt are built near big rocks for this reason. Aborigines called the natural water holes in the rocks, "gnamma" holes. At the base you can often find great drifts of wildflowers. Burra Rock dam is a swimming area. After the climb to the top of the hill in very windy and cloudy conditions, we settled into camp until the rain set in. It poured all night, so for a while everyone gathered in our camper for a talk and a drink.

The next day dawned clear and crisp. Shep, Dawn and I piled into Greg's four wheel drive and took the Woodline Trail, a four wheel drive track, to Cave Hill. This is another granite tor, but with a cave. The dams for these two rocks provided water for the Woodline trains. Shep rode shotgun and pointed out ruts and dips to Greg so he could choose the path to drive. We had lunch, explored the rock and Shep ignored the "Cave Risk" sign to climb inside. There were lovely wildflowers here too. From here, there was a short cut to the main road leading to Coolgardie which still appeared to be closed.

Shep's Cave Risk	Cave Hill	View from top of Cave Hill

When we arrived back at Burra Rock, the boys went up to the dam and set yabbie traps. We cooked a leg of lamb with veggies in the camp oven and we shared the meal with Terry. Shep caught some yabbies with the "tongs of death" and we boiled and ate them. Then it was off to bed for the night.

In the morning, Greg pulled out his trap to find a a couple of kilo's of yabbies that we put into Dawn's freezer and then we headed off again through Coolgardie. Near the edge of town, we stopped at a garden that Caryll told us about. It was full of old junk which some might call collectibles. We wasted little time there as we were planning to cover many kilometres that day.

The trip was fairly uneventful. There was a stop at the rabbit proof fence rest area, which contained a display and a piece of the fence that any self-respecting rabbit could hop right round. We ended up at the Bruce Rock Caravan Park, a friendly and comfortable little town facility. Bruce Rock is a lovely community which once had a land give-away so the town could stay alive. We were given the key to the laundry, so we could use the free washing machines. Greg cooked up the yabbies and shared them around.

The whole east of Western Australia is decidedly windy. Every day it has been just short of blowing a gale. Before we left, Terry, Dawn, Greg and I set off on our bicycles to Bruce Rock where we found the rock, two old wells and drifts of pink everlastings. Merri and Shep had visited the Rock the day before and photographed their Land Rover named Bruce at its namesake.

Climbing Bruce Rock	Everlastings at Bruce Rock

Then it was back in our cars to drive to Narembeen, another small, disappearing community, via Roe Lookout on Emu Hill. Most of the town traffic consisted of mobility aids. After purchasing a not very spectacular morning tea, we tried to find Wadderin Reserve, a beauty spot mentioned in a tourist bureau booklet. A couple of u-turns later we found ourselves at a locked gate and a final u-turn on a narrow dirt road...what fun, especially for Dawn and her caravan! We decided the reserve was closed , so we proceeded to Hidden Hollow, a picnic area nestled at the bottom of...guess what...another rock! This was a boon to Greg, who revelled in all the wildflowers and insect life in the Hollow. The local botanical society had left a laminated booklet on a stand to aid in floral identification. Two hours later, we left and finally arrived at Wave Rock Caravan Park, not too far from Hyden. We tried to catch the wave at sunset, but it was a bit late. Never mind. We are spending two days here.

The next morning the rain set in. Shep and Merri managed to walk to Hippo's Yawn before the inundation. I used the morning to do the washing, but the dryer in the caravan park gave up the ghost. Never mind. They let me use the one in the resort for free. Then we had some top coffee at a cafe there. First stopping at some scrap metal sculptures depicting the history of the town, we stocked up on a few groceries in Hyden.

After lunch at the bakery, we travelled to Mulka's Cave which contained 452 hand stencils. There is an aboriginal story connected with the cave, about an evil giant who ate children.

Mulka's Cave	Cave painting in Mulka's Cave	Hand Stencils in Mulka's Cave	Merri & Greg at the Back entrance to Mulka's Cave

We then took a walk, examining gnamma holes on the way. The meaning of Gnamma Hole is literally "Water hole in rock". Some of these Gnamma Holes held quite large tadpoles.

Our 1st Gnamma Hole	Our 2nd Gnamma Hole	Tadpoles in a Gnamma Hole

We also found lovely wildflowers. When we arrived back at the resort, we visited the Lace Museum, the largest collection of lace in Australia. One piece was owned by Queen Victoria. We also saw the Toy Soldier Museum. There were thousands of toy soldiers of all armies, arranged by war and era.

The Lace Museum	The Lace Museum	Shep in a Vintage car at museum	Toy Soldier Museum	Shep at the Toy Soldier Museum

On the next day, it was raining again and we developed a leak which soaked the corner of our bed. Greg managed to locate and repair it, but it was no fun trying to dry out a bed in the limited space afforded by a camper trailer. Afterward, we drove to Hippo's Yawn instead of walking and discovered a very wet Dawn who was trying to decide whether to wade through ankle deep water. She took our offer of a lift and we visited the Breakers, another rock formation. The rain was very disappointing as there was an interesting bike track we couldn't even consider doing.

Greg and I decided to drive into town to the Telecentre to access our emails on their fast internet connections. I had a pile of communications from the Association of Independent Retirees as I am treasurer of the local branch, but Greg didn't give me time to read them. So we went back to camp and visited the Pioneer Museum which was pretty cluttered. Then Dawn and I paid our admission to enter a pretty tacky zoo. They did have five white boomers, but the wedge-tailed eagle cage contained roosters and there were more birds and rabbits than promised in the guide pamphlets. The koalas were in any tree except the one indicated and even the parrots screamed, "Let me out!" They gave bread to tourists to feed to the wallabies, which was not really healthy for the animals.

That night Shep, Merri, Greg and I went for a lovely, expensive dinner at the Bella Vista Restaurant and Olive Grove. The food and service were quite memorable.

We had to leave Wave Rock the next day, because it was booked out due to an outdoor rock festival at the resort. It was the WA Queen's Birthday weekend. As we watched them set up for the concerts 50 metres away from our site, we were very glad to be leaving. However, we did not realise that the activities there would affect accommodation within a 100km radius. It was very lucky that I had booked our next camping spot.

At last we had respite from rain, however the ground was still soggy as we were to discover. We set off to Kulin only to miss a turn which was partially my fault and partially the GPS who wanted us to turn where there was no road. The presence of the device had lulled me into a sense of security and I was enjoying the landscape and not paying attention. So we made one more U- turn. But as Greg pulled partly off the road, he felt the car slip and just made it around. Dawn was not so lucky, and despite our yells of "don't follow" over the radio, she left the road and her car and caravan slipped sideways, burying one side of her car in the mud. Greg and Shep flew into action. Greg grabbed his snatch strap and attached it between Bruce and Dawn's car. Shep directed, Merri drove Bruce and Greg got behind the wheel of Dawn's car, and they towed it out. A dramatic rescue! Some passers-by stopped to offer help, but we were soon on our way again.

Without further mishap we made it to the Tin Horse Highway, thanks to some advice from a stranger over the radio. The Highway is a series of statues, mainly of horses, made from scrap metal, and placed at entrances to properties along the road. The farmers and graziers around Kulin have a competition every year. They are very clever, creative and humorous. There was Ben Horse in his chariot, a lady tennis playing horse, SES horses climbing a water tank and even a small plane placed by the highway with a horse pilot. Stopping to photograph dozens of statues, we took over an hour to go about 30 km. Kulin has a lovely reserve, the Macropodia, full of millions of wild flowers, including the eponymous gum with huge blossoms. Greg kept heading off the main track while finding dozens of different flora. The next town, Kondinin, had another reserve which was quite disappointing. Meanwhile, the little Corrigin Van Park was calling me to find out if we were going to use our booked site, as they were full already, the spill-over from Wave Rock.

Before pulling into Corrigin, we stopped at Gorge Rock about 25 km southeast of town to discover some perfectly good free camping. We climbed the rock for a great view, wondering about the abandoned baby stroller halfway up. The rock pool here was a local swimming hole. On the way back we discovered that the pram had gone so guessed that the parents and baby had returned to collect it.

After the excitement of today, we settled in the Corrigin Caravan Park, small and comfortable. Corrigin is a dog town, known for its annual Dog in a Ute event. It currently holds the world record of a continuous queue of Dogs in Utes (1527). That night, Dawn managed to get invited to a dance by the Dancing Caravaners who were staying at the park. Dawn loves dancing and teaches dance back home. Needless to say she had a ball.

There is a wildflower drive five kilometres out of town, and the next day, four of us decided to ride our bikes there. After a horrible hill, Dawn and I opted out of the ride at the lookout section and sped back to town. Greg and Terry continued by bike. We got in Dawn's car and visited the Dog Cemetery, and then did the wildflower drive by car along this dirt road. We met Greg and Terry who had made excellent progress. They had already visited the Dog Cemetery and had almost finished the ride.

In the afternoon leaving the van behind, Greg and I set off by car on the 70 km to Quarading. We went for a walk in a local reserve, observing more wildflowers, saw a lake that was pink on one side of the road and blue on the other, and drove around the Kokerbin Rock. This is the third largest monolith in Australia. It looked like a great camping spot, but was packed with Queen's Birthday holiday makers.

We returned to Corrigin that evening and went to a little amateur concert put on by the Dancing Caravaners in the shed behind the park.

Monday arrived with an early start as usual. We headed off through Quarading and first noticed the egg signs depicting egg people doing various things. No idea what they are about. We made a short stop at the rabbit-proof fence trap where Shep displayed his ignorance with great certainty and authority. This proves it doesn't matter what the facts are, as long you make your assertions as though you know what you're talking about, people will accept them. If only the big tourist information sign wasn't there...

We had a long stop at York on the Avon River. There is a large and beautiful park there with lots of caravan size parking nearby. York has three reserves, but all are well out of town, so we didn't visit any of them. As well, there are three museums, but it was too nice a day for indoor pursuits. Instead Greg and I walked the town, looking at the lovely historic buildings. It was a day-tripper town much like Berry or Berrima, and the first inland settlement in WA. We had a trendy ice cream and then walked along the river and had a picnic lunch.

From York we drove straight to the Perth suburb of Caversham and our Caravan Park next to the vines in the Swan Valley. We had booked an ensuite site which was very handy.

At this point in our journey, Greg blamed Merri for bringing the rain again. After all, it had rained the last time the Sheppards were away in Tasmania and the Eyre Peninsula. We seem to attract it wherever we go. This was a utility day: washing, drying, shopping and doctor's appointments to replace a prescription Greg thought his doctor forgot to give him. On our way to fill our empty gas bottle, we picked up a metal fragment in our tyre, so Greg and I immediately drove to a tyre place. Eventually, they found that the metal piece had not penetrated the full thickness of the tyre, thank goodness, and were able to remove it without further incident.

When he got back, we set off with Merri, Shep and Dawn to a rum distillery which was closed. Later we worked out that many tourist attractions in WA were closed on Mondays. So we tried the Margaret River Chocolate Factory where we bought hand-made truffles and hot chocolate. They had three varieties: milk, white and dark. The hot chocolate was nothing special, but the truffles were luscious. Then we hit a couple of wineries and both had wines I liked.

Meanwhile Terry had gone to pick up his wife, Ann, and her friend, Kay, from the terminus of the Indian Pacific. They had a lovely train trip across the country. Ann could not join us from the beginning, because she is still working as a teacher, so had to wait until the school holidays. Kay stayed with Dawn who was kind enough to billet her in her caravan. To celebrate the girls' arrival, we had a barbecue in the camp kitchen.

Even though it was rainy the next day, five of us decided to head into King's Park in Perth. We took the very efficient train service and then used the free CAT buses to get around. Perth is a very polite city. Young people stood up to offer us their seats, as signs on the public transport directed them to do so. People chatted to us on the train, at bus stops and on the bus and were generally helpful. Free buses are a great idea as they cut down on city traffic.

King's Park was exceptionally beautiful. The floral festival plants were still there. All the wildflowers were planted in regional displays and we saw some that we had discovered during our travels so far. The rest of the gardens were lovely too. Then we decided to ride the Blue CAT bus after the Red one that took us from King's Park. We soon found ourselves at Swan Bells. The bells from St. Martin in the Fields, England, are housed in a grand tower. We even joined a demonstration and had the opportunity to ring one of the bells above. I was handed the rope for a small treble bell and can tell you that it is harder than it looks. Through a video link, we could see the bells. The guide then demonstrated full circle bell ringing. We were able to take the lift to the top of the tower and a windy balcony with spectacular views of the city. There is also a window to the room housing the bells. This capped off a great day in Perth despite the weather.

On Thursday we defied the rain again and visited Rottnest Island. We took the train to Fremantle and then a ferry. I used my special bracelet and didn't get seasick despite the rough weather. By the time we reached Rottnest it was sunny and I wished we had brought our bikes. We took the Bayseeker bus right around the island and then went on a guided quokka tour. The little marsupials were plentiful and unafraid - found under bushes at Lake Grace - so cute and sleepy. Lunch was quite expensive, and when he went inside to get a drink, Greg lost the top of his trendy burger to a sea gull. We went for a short walk along the sea and then took the ferry back to Freo (Fremantle). Ann, Terry, Greg and I were determined to eat fish and chips at Freo, but it took some doing to find the Fisherman's Wharf. Terry asked an opal dealer who sent us in the right direction. As the only people to sit in the outdoor takeaway section of the restaurant, we had a good, cheap meal, but were regaled by the waitress with her life story. At last we trained it back home to Perth, tired, but happy.

The next day we had a late start, because Robyn, Caryll Sefton's sister, was taking Terry and Shep for a paddle on the Swan River. Greg's back was bothering him, so he didn't go. The Ascot Canoe Club, of which Robyn is a member, was huge with dozens and dozens of kayaks of all shapes and sizes.

After we saw the paddlers off, Greg, Dawn and I headed up to the Darling Ranges. First we went to lovely Lake Leschenaultia where Dawn and I had a short walk. Then we visited the Hills Forest, a Jarrah forest at Mundaring Weir. As we ate our lunch, 28 parrots (not a number, but the WA name for western ring-necked parrots) hopped on our table, shoulders and heads, and begged for food. They were quite adept at it with many generations of training in gentleness and cuteness- a cock of the head and a quizzical look.

Water from Mundaring is piped 530 km to Kalgoorlie through the Goldfields Pipeline, due to an ambitious project which resulted in the suicide of the engineer who proposed it. Lastly, after an unsuccessful attempt to find the Zigzag Scenic Drive, we went to John Forrest Park where fields of pink and white Bangine stretched forever. We walked to Hovea Falls and looked into a tavern in the park where kangaroos grazed in the beer garden.

Saturday was another showery day, but Greg and I went for a drive through Perth along the banks of the Swan River. We saw Alan Bond's house and drove down the road along the beach from North Cottesloe to Fremantle. At Freo we browsed at the famous markets there and were intrigued by a heavy metal bagpipe player who sported a Mohawk and wore a black leather kilt. He had fastened his collection tin to a remote controlled car and drafted a child volunteer to propel it around the crowd.

Because Fremantle Prison was close to the markets, we joined the "Doing Time" tour of the old facility and this was most enjoyable. The tour leader made it interesting and fun. He obviously loved doing it, and either really knew the history of the gaol or knew how to create a good story. Afterwards, we rushed back to Caversham so Greg could visit the rum distillery. He pronounced the rum "different" and bought several bottles. Terry did not have a great day, as he locked his keys in the car and needed roadside assistance to get them out. However, he and Ann managed to get to the Fremantle Markets in time for Ann to find some lovely bargains and later to join us at the distillery.

Terry did not have a great day, as he locked his keys in the car and needed roadside assistance to get them out. However, he and Ann managed to get to the Fremantle Markets in time for Ann to find some lovely bargains and later to join us at the distillery.

Our last full day in Perth was a bit of a utility day. Despite the major shops being closed on Sunday, we managed to find an open IGA and a farmer's market so we filled our pantry. Afterwards Greg needed to repack the special bag in the roof tray on the 4 wheel drive, because rain got into everything up there. Several pieces of non essential equipment were ruined. We think the bag was ruined because it was not fully packed.

In the evening we all went to Robyn's lovely home in Dalkeith for a barbecue. It was a pleasant and sociable occasion. Robyn provided all the food and entertained us royally although she barely knew most of us.

That night after my shower, I locked our ensuite key inside the building and couldn't get it until the morning. Thankfully, Shep and Merri were leaving theirs unlocked so Faye and Dawn could use it.

Monday morning we set off as usual after the park gave us a spare key to open the ensuite. On our way north we stopped at Yanchep National Park and picnicked by the lake. There we walked through the wildflower gardens, saw koalas up close from the walkway and took a stroll through a collapsed cave.

We hurried on to the town of Cervantes, so we could view the nearby Pinnacles at sunset. In Nambung National Park, the Pinnacles are limestone pillars rising from the sand, listed as one of the 100 landmarks you must see before you die. I never realised there were so many, literally thousands, and most were smaller. The largest is about 3.5 metres tall. You can walk through the desert or drive, following a clearly marked road. They did not glow red at sunset, but took on a pinkish hue, and the interplay of shadow and light made a surreal scene. Shep told us that seafarers thought they were an army lined up protecting the coast. We enjoyed the view from the Pinnacles lookout. We noticed some galahs roosting on a pinnacle and wondered if there was a nest.

The next day it was quite windy in the lovely fishing village of Cervantes. Greg, Dawn and I set off on a tour of Nambung National Park, based on a little book Greg bought at the caravan park kiosk. Shep and Merri followed while Terry and Ann became impatient and went on ahead. We had a grand time finding different wildflowers and explored the beaches. It seemed to us that we always had great difficulty finding the first of a particular species and after that they were everywhere. In one of the public toilets we found a carpet snake in the rafters. We visited the Pinnacles by day and found the rock on which the galahs had been perched the day before. Greg looked inside and there were four little grey chicks. Merri attempted to take a photo but it wouldn't turn out so Greg got back up and took a movie with his video camera.

After a late lunch, we headed to Lake Thetis and found stromatolites, the earliest form of life on the planet that left fossil evidence. These particular ones were only 1200 years old, quite young for this life form. We walked around the lake and sighted black swans and ducks. Every place we visit seems to require another day to do it justice.

Despite this, the next morning we raced off early to try to make New Norcia in time for the 11am tour. New Norcia is a Benedictine monastery founded in 1846. It is the only monastic town in Australia. The tour took us into beautiful chapels and churches on the grounds. The Spanish founding monks seem to have had a wonderful relationship with the Aborigines. Some of our party bought their bread, wine or mandarins which were for sale there. We admired the treasures in the museum and the wonderful religious art works in the gallery.

Then we set off for the Moondyne Caravan Park in Toodyay in the Avon Valley. What a lovely park! It was bush camping under beautiful trees with all the mod cons. There were peacocks and emus and kangaroos. Our vans were casually arranged and not lined up like houses in a row. We loved it! The town itself is a cosy, valley tourist town with all you need without the big two supermarkets: a farm market, butcher, baker, craft shops, cafes and, most important of all, lolly shops.

Thursday morning brought a lovely, warm day and we began a drive of the Avon Valley National Park that was suggested by Robyn. Her canoe club often paddles down the Avon. Driving along the river, we found lots of wildflowers and one race. I was not too pleased with Greg's habit of stopping in the middle of the road and jumping out of the car, camera in hand, every time he spotted something interesting in the bush. This is usually followed by about 20 minutes of him disappearing into the brush with his partners in crime. Meanwhile there is the car, left straddling both lanes of a two way dirt road, barely wide enough for another vehicle to pass.

In general wildflowers have been plentiful on our trip - from fields of everlastings to drifts of bangine on slopes and understoreys of poison pea. However the most beautiful and precious are found by glancing down as you slowly walk off the paths, so tiny, so delicate. Our discoveries were accompanied by squeals of "Look over here!"

Then we headed to some of the campsites in the Avon Valley Park. After lunch at the Valley campsite, which would not have been a great spot to camp, we walked down the road to the river. We had to climb a siding and cross a railway track to access the Avon. Next we drove up Bald Hill and discovered many nice camping areas and a rocky view of the valley below. While some of us returned to town, four of us went on to Noble Falls, a pleasant swimming and camping area along the road to Perth. We strolled there before returning to shop in town. That night, we invited Shep and Merri over for a camp oven roast chicken dinner.

On Friday, we set off from our lovely park to our next camp. We passed through York again and Terry had a flat tyre repaired while we did a bit of shopping and checked out the local art and craft awards. Then we gave Natalie the Navigator her head and she led us over hill and dale, dirt roads, and lots of turns. Finally we arrived at the Dryandra Woodland, a beautiful camping spot, complete with fire pits, firewood, tables and a clean drop toilet.

The ladies all piled into Dawn's car to go to Dryandra Village, thinking it was a hotel, but it was just a bunch of cottages and huts. We encountered the caretaker who showed us photos of all the wildflowers and animals there: numbats, woylies etc. Unfortunately we were unable to book a night tour of Barna Mia where they raise endangered animals, such as the burrowing bettong, for release because it had been booked out for weeks. There was a bit of misadventure heading back from Cuballa where we went to buy Terry's beer. Dawn's car GPS, "The Bitch", led us seriously astray up a disappearing road and it took us hours to get back which was not so comfortable for us three fat ladies wedged in the back of the vehicle. When I finally returned home, Greg took me spotlighting after dinner. It was a lovely evening, but we didn't find much.

Our second day at the Dryandra Woodland started with a bike ride. Greg and I rode along some roads to Congelin Dam and then we pedalled along the Railway Trail. The roads were better to ride on than the paths which were covered with slippery gravel. When we returned, we took the car on a 26 km drive called the Sounds of Dryandra. There were six stations each with a story which you accessed by tuning your radio to 100FM. One story was about fire spotters, another on the bark strippers of the mallet trees, another about Aboriginal uses of the wandoo and one on the mallee fowl. Because Greg was always getting out of the car and wandering off to photograph wildflowers, the drive took us hours. When we got back to camp, he tried to run our shower which is heated by the engine, but it didn't work. This was depressing, because Greg paid $500 for it and he had set up a lovely shower tent. But we had a fire and I cooked an Irish stew in the camp oven which was very nice, although we ate quite late.

On Sunday we took the Darwinia Drive which took us to the very north of the Woodland. There were several stops with informative boards. At the base of a granite outcrop we found some cowslip orchids and one enamel orchid. When we told the caretaker, she told us where we could find some mantid orchids, but we missed the road as the directions were rather vague. We looked where Shep and the others had spotted a numbat, but we had no luck.

That night Merri and Shep cooked us all a lovely leg of lamb with vegetables. Dawn made some apple fritters and everything was delicious. We will be sorry to leave this lovely, quiet place.

Up early the next morning, we travelled the main roads and wound our way to the town of Dwellingup and the Lane Poole Reserve. On the way a sheep farmer heard us on the UHF radio and asked if we were the shearers he was waiting for. When we told him we were just tourists, he offered us the job shearing his flock as he was getting desperate. We replied that he would have to be very desperate to let us within a cooee of his sheep.

At Dwellingup, we filled our water tanks at the tourist information centre as the only water in the reserve is in the Murray River. We opted for the campsite nearest the village even though it was among the pines, not in a Jarrah forest, and a short walk to the river and the Baden-Powell spurt. Most of the other camp grounds could not fit three camper trailers/caravans. The Department of Lands in every state has a habit of judiciously placing bollards and logs, so only tents can be used in many areas. At least we were not there on the weekend, when our campsite gets very busy and noisy, according to the ranger.

We had time to visit the Forest Heritage Centre which, when viewed from above, is in the shape of three leaves. As a third of the building is a woodworking school, it is a centre for artisans to carve the beautiful Jarrah wood. Most of this region is Jarrah forest. We walked along its outdoor trails and tree top walk, and marvelled at the many wooden artworks on display. I bought a picture frame made from a burl as a souvenir. To this day, I regret not purchasing a cutting board, but they were very expensive. On our way out, Greg found some wild donkey orchids near the parking lot.

Needing a shower, Greg and I stopped at the local van park and at a roadside stand we bought some wood to burn in the fire pit and cook our meal. Greg reckons the wood was terrible and the coals it produced even worse, but it was still nice to have a fire. We slept with hot water bottles that night.

The next day dawned clear and much warmer. Greg and I went for a drive and visited all the other campsites along the river. His back problems make it hard for him to walk. Terry, Ann and Shep rented kayaks and paddled for a couple of hours. We stopped on our drive to watch some other paddlers, but it turned out that our three mates were among them. Then we went to town for lunch. As Greg wanted to find some better fire wood, we drove up this dirt track. We drove for awhile until I pointed out the little symbols on the trees which meant we were driving up a walking track. At least we found some wildflowers.

Then we travelled up the road to the old Prisoner of War Camp. It seems we missed a turn that was not sign posted and found ourselves on a scenic drive. Still searching for the Camp, Greg turned onto another dirt track. It became rougher and rougher until I pointed out that we were driving up a bridle path. Last time I looked the Pathfinder was not a horse. We never did find the POW Camp. When we arrived back at the Reserve, the boys caught some yabbies or crayfish (or maybe marron) which we had for supper.

Early on Wednesday, the boys collected their yabbie traps and cooked their catch to eat later in the day. We packed up and left for Rockingham the southernmost suburb of Perth. Because Ann and Kay were leaving us and needed to be at Perth airport on Saturday, we were making a big loop north. On the way we stopped to visit Serpentine Falls National Park. The falls were lovely, but in quite a managed environment. Then we drove through the heritage listed town of Jarradale and found little to write home about.

Down the scarp we came to Rockingham. A flurry of activity ensued with all of us doing loads of wash, shopping to restock with food and just generally taking advantage of the facilities that a major centre had to offer. Greg, Dawn and Kay got haircuts and phone calls were made now that we all had coverage.

A showery morning and what to do? Should we go to Penguin Island or not? The air was still and tomorrow it could be rainy and windy, so Dawn and I went, but Greg opted out. Shep and Merri booked into a more extensive and expensive tour. Terry had a few problems making arrangements. However Dawn and I took the ferry to the island and it was windy there. We did a walking tour based on a little book I bought and saw King Skinks, seagull chicks and eggs, caves, roosting pelicans, bridled terns and crested terns. On our walk round the island, we found the landward side much calmer than the seaward. No surprises there.

We went to the Penguin Experience and saw the ten rescued penguins they had there being fed. They were so cute! Then we took a glass-bottomed boat out to Seal Island and saw the laziest of animals - Australian sea lions. Fat is sexy among this species so they can't risk moving and losing any blubber. The pelicans were ready to mate and displayed reddish bills. Dawn and I were back home by lunch.

Meanwhile Greg did a personal tour of hardware shops. That afternoon, I spent reading the last Harry Potter novel, as Greg had to return to Bunning's, his home away from home.

A bright sunny day greeted us on Friday morning and we probably should have gone to Penguin Island then. Instead we went looking for curtain track stops which were missing from some of our camper windows- not as easy a task as you might think. Afterwards we visited a local Environmental Centre which was pretty tacky, except that there was a display explaining all about the differences between Thrombolites and Stromatolites. As well there were turtles, lizards, frogs, wanderer butterflies and a couple of little garden walks. Also the centre had a community organic garden.

When we left, we drove part way around Lake Richmond, parked and then took a walk looking for Thrombolites. The volunteers at the Environmental Centre had sent us in the wrong direction and we sloshed a little way through a swamp to look at two sorry specimens. But a man walking a dog told us that they were off a boardwalk near where we had parked. We discovered the boardwalk had been vandalised and we had to pick our way carefully to the viewing platform. At the end we found that roosting pelicans had caused the water to be murky with algae. Thrombolites invisible!!! Thousands of years of growth rendered useless by tourist infrastructure. .

Greg and I bought some fish and chips and ate on the Esplanade. He threw a chip to a seagull and that was the end of our quiet enjoyment of time and place. I think Greg does it deliberately. To bid good bye to Ann and Kay, the whole group went out to dinner at a local Chinese Restaurant and when we got back, watched a slide show that Merri made of her beautiful photos of our trip. .

So it was that, on Saturday, Terry stayed back to take Ann and Kay to the airport while the rest of us headed south. We stopped in Mandurah for morning tea at the Miami bakehouse. The cakes were delicious, but there was no camper trailer parking, despite the fact that they advertise to the tourist park market. On the road again south, we pulled into Yalgorup National Park to look at some Thrombolites - great this time- lots of them and clearly visible. Happily we went bush again to a campsite at Leschenault Peninsula Conservation Park- back in the wilderness. YEAH!!!! There were a few other campers in this well-serviced area with fire pits and wood and drop dunnies. .

Terry arrived later and sampled the bicycle tracks only to suffer an immediate puncture. Luckily Bunbury is a big centre and he could get it repaired. .

After setting up camp, we headed into Bunbury and drove to Boulter Hill for a view of the city and then to the Big Swamp Reserve where we walked around the lake looking for water birds and flowers. We saw purple swamp hens, black swans, brown ducks, mountain ducks, Eurasian coots and egrets. We could have happily spent another day in this pleasant city and visited the Dolphin Discovery Centre, but hopefully we'll do that next visit. .

So we headed back to the bush, a peninsula that almost touches Bunbury, and built a fire and cooked our dinner, all of us together quite happy amongst the tuarts and peppermint trees. The only downside to Leschenault was the "Mosquito Risk Area" signs and the mossies were there alright.

Sunday, leaving our vans behind, we travelled inland to the town of Harvey where there was a very cheerful and helpful fellow in the tourist bureau. Our goal was Hoffman Mill north of town and the Bridges Trail which was supposed to cut back and forth across the Harvey River. Unfortunately although the picnic and camping area was great, the road and bridges were washed out, the river was overgrown and the track was impossible to follow. It needed some radical maintenance. Instead we went to the Blackboy Track on Honeymoon Lane and enjoyed some outstanding views of the Harvey Dam. On our way there we drove over Logue Dam wall. .

When we arrived back at the Leschenault, Greg drove Dawn and I to Belvidere Beach (We're staying at Belvidere Camping Area.) and we dipped our mosquito bitten legs into the Indian Ocean. Then Dawn and I did the Interpretive Walk which began at the campground. The area had an interesting history, starting as a station raising horses for the Indian government. Livestock does not prosper in this region of Australia as the vegetation is lacking an essential mineral; so unless you supplement the feed, the grazing animals die. .

The next morning started with a light shower, but steadily improved. Again we travelled inland in our cars, this time to Collie. First we stopped at Gnomesville, a wooded area near a roundabout, with thousands of gnomes. It is quite a casual place which, I believe, started when a community leader died leaving his large collection of gnomes. The town placed his gnomes in this space and then other people who passed through began leaving gnomes there with signs, poems, puns etc. Some were gnomes who had retired there after a lifetime travelling the world. Others were left by families, bearing the names of family members. Sporting clubs, old age homes, red hat societies (some topless gnomes here), and Lions clubs all made their contributions. There were lots of puns: "Gnome and Away" etc. It had reached a stage where bus tours now stopped there. It was hilarious.

We were now in jarrah country again and stopped at the King Jarrah, a huge tree, and neither the first nor the last we would visit on this trip. A short drive and we were at the Wellington Forest Discovery Centre and the Jarrah Walk which, due to the presence of innumerable pea bushes, was the most sweetly fragrant walk I'd ever taken. There was a lovely bush smell at Wave Rock, too, like the one they try achieve at expensive craft shops, but this perfume was memorable. Greg also found a different orchid - a scented blue.

Then we drove along the Collie River, were impressed by one set of rapids and lunched at Honeymoon Pool, a nice campsite. Afterward, we had a look at the Gorge camping area near Wellington Weir. Off we went to Collie for some afternoon tea and a quick look at the town. Then it was home to Belvidere Station.

For those who do not know, the Margaret River region is not restricted to the immediate area around the town of Margaret River. In fact, there are more wineries to the north near Busselton and very few south of Margaret River. North also contains the tourist mecca of the Geographe Bay region. So it was after an early start and a quick stop in Australind, we made our way to Busselton.

For me, this was a disaster of a day. First we took a deviation through the Tuart National Forest and led everyone in a full circle looking for a Discovery Centre that apparently didn't exist. Secondly, we found the National Trust property, Wonnerup House, which, of course, is closed on Tuesdays. Thirdly, we lost Shep and Merri through Busselton and, lastly, our GPS tried to take us 30 km out of the way to get to our caravan park.

When we arrived at Peppermint Park Eco Village, it was lovely as far as van parks go. The pool was closed, but the rest of the grounds were well kept and it was quiet and beautiful. Dawn and I went shopping and discovered that the IGA had a 5% Seniors discount on Tuesdays. We settled down to a quiet evening.

We have a bicycle track that starts from our caravan park and runs along the beach into town. We also have a lovely quiet beach 300m away. Terry rode along the track very early in the morning.

But all of us were booked into a Bushtucker Tours Gourmet Winery Tour and the bus picked us up at the park at 10:15 am. It was great. Brian, our driver guide, kept us entertained with information about the region, both historical and current. Outside one winery, he pointed out a gold statue of a lady swimmer on a pole over a dam. It supposedly was the wife of the owner and locals call it the "chick on a stick". We went to see Yallingup Beach and then we visited four wineries, a dairy, a chocolate factory and a brewery. We had a meal at Moss Brothers Winery, a bushtucker lunch. There was witchety grub pate and a whole witchety grub which we could taste if we liked. Otherwise the food was quite delicious and palatable. Greg was the only one of us to try the witchety grub.

The first winery, Driftwood, had some nice inexpensive wines. There we were shown into the room where the wines are made and the process was completely explained. Brian also instructed us in wine tasting. Then we went to Flying Fish which had wonderful wines that were a bit more expensive. Brian made sure all twenty of us got to know one another and we sang songs and soon chatted like good friends.

On Thursday, showery weather cast some clouds over our proceedings, but the rain disappeared soon after we set off. We split up into two groups, and Dawn, Greg and I went to Ngli Cave and descended 37Mtrs to several chambers. The first was quite striking and huge, but we had seen better caves closer to home. On the grounds of the caves we took a short walk and found an elusive pink enamel orchid. Then we went to Canal Rocks which was quite impressive.

A couple of pies and a quiche at Tas's Bakery in Dunsborough and we were off to Point Naturaliste Lighthouse. Only 57 steps up and we were rewarded with a great view of the Indian Ocean. We could see whales breaching, but not really close enough. One of our fellow tourists was from Mt. Ousley. We then headed to Sugarloaf Rock, one of the most photographed rocks in Australia, but the road was closed for repair, so we strolled along a bit of a new track for wheelchairs near there. Afterwards we took the tourist road to Eagle Bay, Meelup Beach and Castle Rock. There is a walking track with whale watching platforms along here that extends from the lighthouse to Dunsborough, but the weather was still threatening and we had walked enough. On Castle Rock Beach we found a resting fur seal. It was so cute. We finished up with a cup of coffee at Dunsborough and at night held a meeting to plan the rest of the trip.

Friday- what a day!!! There were some clear spells, but when it rained, it bucketed down. Greg and I tried to take advantage of it and went to the Shearing Show. Greg reckoned the shearer was incompetent and his two dogs, a border collie and a kelpie, ought to be shot. I decided he was clever, making the most of the tourists while running his farm. We had a lovely lunch at a gallery and viewed the art and craft work there. Then we went to a little reptile zoo.

Our plans to visit the Underwater Observatory at the end of the second longest wooden jetty in the southern hemisphere were scuppered by rain. They had to close the facility due to poor viewing. We attempted to walk the jetty, but the wind and downpour stopped us. It is almost 2 km long. Anyhow we ended up shopping for food and came home to the dry comfort of our camper-trailer.

Meanwhile Terry had done an early morning bicycle ride and had to duck into public toilets to escape the rain. A lovely bike track and a fantastic beach and we are holed up here.

By Saturday morning, it did clear up a bit, so we went to the Lions Markets in Dunsborough. And when we arrived home, Greg and I had lunch and then rode our bikes all along Geographe Bay to the jetty which took 35 minutes. Because Greg forgot our bike locks, we decided not to walk the jetty, but had an ice cream and then headed home, which took a bit longer because of the head winds. It was a lovely trip.

As we travelled Western Australia, my old boss, Rod, and I had been text messaging each other. He and his wife, Jill, were on a similar camping holiday, but they had started later and were travelling in the opposite direction to us. Finally we were both in the same town at the same time, so we met for drinks at the Vasse Bar and a lively hour of talk followed. They left to pick up a Thai takeaway, and Greg and I had a pizza. We then returned home to turn the clocks forward in what has turned out to be WA's last attempt at daylight saving.

On Sunday we were all up early. The 3:00 am magpie sang and then a duck sat under the camper and quacked. I think Greg had fed him during the day. We also had a problem with our lights, but it turned out that the charger was unplugged.

So we all packed up our campers and caravans and headed one hour down the road to Prevelly on the beach near the mouth of the Margaret River, although you can't see the ocean from the park. It's cheaper, dirtier, tackier and more run down than we are used to, but we are shaded under Peppermint trees. I only put this short trip into our itinerary because people told me how beautiful the Town of Margaret River is, but we are not staying in town. If I had the trip to do again, I would not stay here or at our next camping area, but opt for Conto's Field in the north of the Boranup Forest

After setting up camp, we visited historic Ellensbrook Homestead and Meekadarrabee Falls which were lovely, but only trickling. Ellensbrook was an 1857 house with a paperbark roof and limestone walls. Then we went to a venison farm, had a tasting and bought some meat. Lastly we drove to Vasse Felix winery which is owned by the Holmes a'Court family. It is situated in lovely grounds and had a gallery with many Hermannsburg School landscapes and indigenous dot paintings. The wine was wonderful and after ordering several cases, Greg got to taste one that was $70 a bottle. This put him in the mood for sweet dreams that night.

On Monday morning I seemed to be the only person up early, but Shep, Dawn, Greg and I got away to arrive at the Eagle Heritage Raptor Park just after it opened. There were owls, eagles, kites and hawks there for recuperation and a show that demonstrated how kites caught and ate food. We were each allowed to hold a kite perched on our arm. In a moment of revelation, Greg realised that an annoying dog, that barked "woof woof……woof woof", near our house in Wollongong was actually a barking owl.

After the show we went to Margaret River - indeed a lovely town. Greg and I lunched at our camper trailer and then went to Redgate Beach where the "Georgette" sank in 1876, quite a wild impressive seascape.

Next was a tour of Caldarup Cave which was unlit and self-guided. They give you a map, helmet and torch and send you off down the boardwalk and a steep metal ladder. There was a lake and small stream at the bottom and many lovely formations. We also did a wildflower walk at the top, using a book that a ranger put together.

Our second last stop was a marron farm and winery near Witchcliffe where we discovered that we probably didn't catch any marron with our traps, but rather other sorts of crayfish. More wine was tasted and purchased to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" sung by an adorable 2 year old girl, the daughter of the vigneron. On our way back we stopped to see Surfer's Point and the Margaret mouth.

It had been cloudy and cool, but Tuesday the rains rejoined us. We really slept in and what with washing and all that, we didn't get away until 11:00 am. For Greg and I, today was caves day and first we did Mammoth Cave, so called because of its huge chambers. It was dimly lit and you received earphones and an MP3 player which was your tour guide. It was a beautiful cavern and even had a fossil jawbone imbedded in one wall. When we emerged, Greg and I dodged raindrops and walked the wildflower trail there. Then we went to Lake Cave with its 300 steps to the entrance. It was quite pretty with unusual formations. There was a Caves Works Interpretive Centre at this attraction and lunch here was good and reasonable. We then headed for the Karri Forest Boranup Drive. Karri's are the third tallest trees in the world. They are most impressive trees, hundreds of years old.

Many Western Australian place names end in "up". There's Yallingup, Wonnerup, Porongurup, Balingup, Beedelup, Calgarup, Nornalup and Nannup to name just a few. It means simply "place of" and, contrary to some stories, has nothing to do with water except people do tend to settle where water is available. So our next camp was in the Boranup Forest.

But, Lord, didn't it rain the night before? So wet was Shep and Merri's camper trailer that they didn't move that morning, but waited while it dried out. The rest of us did move to the Bonarup camping area in the Leeuwin- Naturaliste National Park. Greg had trouble finding a level site and managed to get us wedged between a picnic table and a tree. It amazes me how you can manoeuvre into a place and then find it impossible to get out. After some help from Terry, we had to remove the bicycles to move and then settle in another spot. This is a lovely camping area with only seven sites among the Karri trees.

Merri and Shep drove over and joined us and then we all set out for a short scenic drive taking in Hamelin Bay, Cosy Corner, Foul Bay. The sea was rough and blustery and then after lunch in Augusta, Jewel Cave, one of my favourites.  The cave was beautiful with ceilings covered with straws, stalactites and helectites.

When we returned to camp, Greg led Dawn and me on a long walk until well after dark. My legs ached and I wished that a bus would come along. There is a bunch of kids from Australind High camping near us. A bus did come about 6 pm and picked them up.

The next day, after another night of rain, Terry left the group as he's not enjoying himself. The rain is driving us into the isolation of our Caravans and campers. As well, his shoes are not holding up and, because of the seasonal nature of this area, he can't find a canoe to rent and go for a paddle. I suspect that he also misses his family very badly.

The remaining members of our party expected lots of rain today, so we planned on driving out to Blackwood River Country. The river, which enters the Southern Ocean at Augusta, is the longest river in Western Australia and can be canoed all the way to Bridgetown.

The Brockman Highway sometimes follows the river. First we stopped in Karridale where we checked out the Christmas Shop and bought some unusual ornaments. Then we turned off to visit Sue's Bridge and checked out the camping area and the river. We continued on to Nannup, a lovely little town, a timber centre. On our return, we took a different way, a dirt road that looks like it's being turned into a major highway. When we arrived in Margaret River, we had afternoon tea in a place called Dome- good coffee and cake. Then we headed home.

The rain had held off all day, but that night, it poured fiercely, loudly beating down on our campers and flooding Shep's campsite.

The next morning we got a late-ish start and when we arrived at Augusta, we decided to catch a guided dolphin watch cruise up the Blackwood River. It included morning tea, but Greg called it a Fawlty Towers cruise. Coffee was the little packets of cappuccino mix and the lady captain ran out of the ones with sweetener. Unfortunately, she didn't have sugar on board. There were Black 'n Gold lamingtons and packets of crackers. She said she had intended to make some cakes that morning but had run out of time so had to buy the lamingtons. The tourists had to make their own coffees from the water in the thermos. La Capitania didn't use the microphone because she didn't like it. Although she pointed out landmarks of interest to those at the front of the boat, she insisted some of stay at the stern for weight distribution...and of course we couldn't hear her over the noise of the motor. All this for $30 each and not a dolphin to be seen.

We had lunch at the bakery and then visited Cape Leeuwin lighthouse, the tallest on mainland Australia. This is the most south westerly corner of Australia and where the Indian Ocean meets the Southern Ocean. It was sooooo windy there, and the guide said it was calm that day. After climbing the lighthouse, we walked to the Waterwheel and then on along the Bibbulmun track to Skippy Rocks. We wound our way back and at sunset, we drank a glass or two of good Western Australia wine and then said good bye to the Indian Ocean at Boranup Lookout.

When the sun rose again, we travelled from Boranup to Manjimup along the aforementioned Brockman highway, following the Blackwood River through forest and farm. We passed through Bridgetown and made a mental note to revisit this river town. After we rejected the van park in town, the tourist information centre recommended a lovely park, Fonty's Pool with a heritage listed freshwater swimming hole. Manjimup was where the Pink Lady apple originated and truffles grow there too. After popping out to shop, Greg, Dawn and I saw their version of the King Jarrah and went for a walk in the woods. Then we went to the Wine and Truffle Company for some tasting and bought some nice wines and a bit of truffle vinegar. That night, the others lit a fire while I had an early night.

Sunday was a particularly busy day. We headed to the tourist town of Pemberton and visited some of their attractions. It's a real timber town centring on the Karri forests. Marri trees grow there too. First we drove the Rainbow and Tramway Trail to Big Brook Dam where we had morning tea. Then we drove through Big Brook Arboretum, saw yet another Big Tree and headed back to town to catch the 2 pm tram ride.
Pemberton Tramway Company. It was a great little rail journey which stopped at the Cascades and crossed the Lefroy River by several narrow, but tall, trestles. Tram on the Lefroy Bridge & the Cascades. The last stop was yet another Big Tree. The driver gave an expert commentary, but we doubted some of his botanical knowledge. He also blew the whistle after we started to cross roadways.

Following afternoon tea, we took advantage of daylight savings and drove to Beedelup Falls. A walkway down and up gave us lovely views of this falls from all angles. We then drove the Heartbreak Trail through Warren National Park - a very hilly, but picturesque dirt road. Lastly we tackled the first rungs of the Dale Evans Bicentennial Tree, one of the big trees with a fire spotting tower at the top. No one was fit enough to get to the top. Then Shep and Merri took us out to dinner at the Shamrock - Yummy! Dawn and Merri had delicious baked trout.

Monday was a cold, cloudy day and we set off north to have a look at Bridgetown. We started out west of Manjimup and had a look at One Tree Bridge which was not across the Donnelly River, but in the picnic area. Up the road we visited Glenoran Pool looking for wildflowers on one of those time consuming searches that almost guarantees we wouldn't be able to do everything we planned on the day. Then we admired the Four Aces which are four Karri trees in a line. Afterwards we took the Donnelly Drive through beautiful forest to Donnelly Mill, the site of an old timber mill and the supporting town. Merri and Shep picked up a lost pup along the way and took it to the pound in Bridgetown. One couple owns the whole town of Donnelly Mill and it is populated with kangaroos and emus, including a dad with four chicks. The owners rent out cottages for holidays which is great for bushwalkers.

Bridgetown is an artsy town on the Blackwood River. There are many galleries. It is also a kayaking centre. We went to a cidery and much enjoyed the product, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic and bought some to take home. Very tired we turned our noses home in the rain which had once again returned.

Hard rain fell all night and the next day we had booked a boat trip on the Donnelly River. At 8:30 am, a bus picked us up at the Manjimup Visitors Centre and Dean, our driver and guide, kept us entertained and informed. The bus brought us to D'Entrecasteaux National Park and the cosy, little tour boat moored 12 km from the sea. Enjoying the scenery, we slowly "toodled" down to the river mouth and, when we disembarked, walked along the sand. The sea was rough. Then we had morning tea and home-made muffins and headed back. Shep corrected the guide by identifying an osprey as black shouldered kite, but was soundly put right. Eventually the bus got us back at 2 pm, happy and tired. We did some shopping and then checked out two more big, climbing trees: the Diamond Tree and the Gloucester Tree. Greg was tempted to climb to the top of one, but we persuaded him otherwise - thank goodness!

"Land of Big Trees", they told us, and "Big Trees need lots of H2O ", they didn't tell us. Now they say it rains nine months of the year here and drips from the trees the other three. Greg has it all figured out, though. It was pouring when we arrived in the Shannon, so he raised the van roof, and then had coffee while waiting for it to stop. And stop it did, so he finished setting up. All day it's rain... stop... rain... stop. We are now in the Shannon National Park, a lovely campsite among old fruit, pine and coral trees, the remains of an old timber town. It even has a wood-fired water heater which supplies the showers. Something for the boys to play with.

We did the Great Forest Drive (46 km) which Greg started in his usual fashion- 10 km/hour and stopping every 5 km or so to leap out, camera in hand, to photograph a flower he saw. He is now seeking the elusive orchid (spider, donkey, rabbit...?) Each stop took 10 or 15 minutes. At that rate it could have taken us two days to do the drive...day and night...no meals. It ended with me annoyed, and him annoyed with me for being annoyed. There were radio stops along the way and I'm convinced we missed a few.

The next day we were singing the same song,"It's raining again...oh, oh". We made the most of it by travelling in our 4WD's to Northcliffe and doing the Forest Sculpture Walk. They gave us iRivers and we could listen to the artists talk about their work or, as Greg did, listen to music written by local artists inspired by the forest. It didn't pour while we were there, but for lunch, we utilized our car awning. Then we drove to Windy Harbour in D'Entrecasteaux National Park, taking a drive that encompassed several spectacular lookouts of angry seas against eroded limestone cliffs. We also stopped at Mount Chudalup on the way, a granite monolith, very impressive.

We popped in to view Shannon Dam, built to service the mill and town which became our campsite. The boys heated water for our showers again- sheer luxury. It's freezing cold here and Greg turned on our gas tent heater.

We've decided that a drought in this region is three hours without rain. So we packed up and left the Shannon and dropped in on Broke Inlet to see where the Shannon River meets the sea. Not long after, we arrived in Walpole. We started a scenic drive and then realised that we couldn't take caravans on most of it. This is one problem with seeing attractions on the way through. We unhooked Dawn's caravan and left it, along with our car and camper trailer, in a parking area. Shep and Merri decided that their camper could make it, although it turned out that some of the parking was a bit tight. Greg, Dawn and I travelled in her car. Despite a wrong turn on dirt road, we visited a lookout, two inlets at Walpole, the Tingle tree and Circular Pool. Tingle trees are very large eucalypts with very big bottoms, some large enough to park several vehicles in. Some are burnt out and hollow, but are still alive and reach for the sky. Then we picked up our vans and headed for the Treetop Walk which was quite spectacular, but there were no cantilevers like the Illawarra Fly. At the same venue we did the Ancient Forest Walk. By this time we were very weary, so we headed off to find a van park in Denmark, the Rivermouth Caravan Park, and settled on a site right on the inlet, a lovely spot for the next few days. Greg's back is killing him and we are very tired. So to bed.

The next day I got some washing done, but didn't trust the weather so used the dryer. However, the sun smiled and for the first time in weeks we had dry towels. Leaving the vans in Denmark, we went to Albany, a beautiful city. We started with the Farmers' Market which was a genuine producers' market. You could tell this because of the limited amount of goods available at each stall. For instance, one sold only asparagus, another only jams. Then we looked around some heritage buildings on the waterfront and checked out some of the museum. Afterwards we drove to Strawberry Hills, a National Trust building with a beautiful garden and had some Devonshire tea.

Albany is a port, but the city has two high mountains pushing up through the urban area and no really tall buildings. Out of town a way, there is a whale museum in a retired whaling ship which was quite expensive, so we enjoyed the displays we could access, the shop and the views. On our return along Frenchman's Bay Road, we stopped at scenic lookouts, the Salmon Pools, Blowholes, the Gap and the Natural Bridge, all spectacular in their own way and beautiful in the sun. We finished the day with a meal in the Chinese restaurant as a treat.

The next day we spent exploring our surroundings, first doing Mt. Shadforth Lookout and then Peaceful Beach, Ficifolia Road and the very Conspicuous Cliff. There were great views all around. A bit of retail therapy found us at Kent River Wines, home of the Big Marron, a Toffee Shop, a leather shop and the Meadery. Then, lest we miss some scenery, we turned down William Bay Road to see the lovely swimming hole at Green's Pool and Elephant Rocks not far away. We returned to Denmark via Monkey Rock and Ocean Beach Road. A lookout along the latter showed us where Wilson Inlet emptied into the sea. Bibbulmum Track walkers have to cross the inlet there and walk through water. When we returned home, Dawn and I got on our bikes and pedalled along a bit of the Mokare Heritage Trail over a footbridge from our van park.

"Sunny" was not going to last for us. We really can't say the sun rose, but it must have behind the showery clouds. Today we went our three different ways. Merri and Shep shopped in Denmark and wandered around locally, Dawn went straight to Albany in search of new shoes, while Greg and I explored first. There were some beautiful coastal lookouts, namely Lowlands Lookout and Shelley Beach in West Cape Howe. The latter had what I thought was a collapsed lookout and later learned from other visitors that it was a take off point for hang gliders. After viewing some spectacular granite outcrops and wild seas, we left for Albany and some shopping: food and some feet for our camper trailer to replace the ones Greg had broken.

When we arrived home, it was time for Shep and Greg to go out on a booked fishing charter. Meanwhile I read, slept and then cycled on the Mokare Heritage Trail, going a bit further than I did yesterday. The fishing trip was a bit of an expensive disaster. Despite the best efforts of the captain, they could not find any fish ready to take the boys' lures. So they were out on the cold, blustery inlet for hours with no visible result, except for one fish that Shep pulled in. They even got a refund of half their money. However, by the time they arrived back, none of us was willing to cook Shep's catch, so it went to the pelicans the next morning.

So we packed up and the Black Cockatoo tour continued. We turned our noses inland to Mt. Barker, stopping at Dawn's favourite winery, Goundrey's, only to discover that the merlot she loves is now exclusive to Woolworth's. The winery doesn't sell it! Due to the poor weather, we decided that we would buy morning tea at a place called Bretzel's in town. I ordered a bretzel, which was like the doughy pretzels we had as kids in New York, only without the salt.

Finally we arrived at Stirling Ranges National Park- no showers, but flush toilets and boilable drinking water. As usual the sky rained down on us. We drove to Bluff Knoll, but we couldn't see the top of it for the clouds. It is one of the highest peaks in WA. We have come to just ignore the rain, as we might as well accept it.

So it was that Dawn's seventieth birthday dawned! Today we got a late start so that Merri had time to bake her cake in the camp oven. We did the Mt. Stirling Drive which took us up and down mountains, but not to the peaks, to lookouts and into valleys. As is his wont, Greg did the drive at 10 km/hr, stopping every few minutes to look at flowers and wander around for 10 or 15 minutes. I swear I saw a few blossoms lift their leafy skirts and scuttle down the hillside to get away. It was a 48 km drive and it took us from 11 am until 5 pm. I think I could've walked it faster.

When we arrived back at camp, the festivities began. First there was happy hour with cheese, bikkies, dip and champers. Then, two roast dinners were wheeled out, both cooked in camp ovens. Lastly there was the cake and some after dinner liqueurs. I think there were 6 empty bottles. Dawn staggered to her caravan, the worse for wear, but the rain held off for the party. .

We packed up the trailers and tried for an early start, travelling the dirt roads to Highway One. Then we proceeded on to Bremer Bay and a lovely van park set 1.6 km from the beach in a peppermint forest. We did a little shopping, checked email, and tried to get a gas cylinder filled. Everyone who was licensed to fill cylinders (four places in town) had either left early or had the day off. All this on a Thursday. Because Greg had stolen the book I was reading, on loan from Merri, I took off on the walk to the beach and had a nearly close encounter with a snake. Other wise it was a quiet, calm afternoon which I think we needed.

The next day there was still no one around to fill gas cylinders. We think they've all gone off to a Gas Cylinder Fillers Inservice. It was a relaxing day at Bremer, mostly sunny but there was drizzle in the evening.

We set off to the World Biosphere Fitzgerald River National Park. We were blown away by the unusual hakea and travelled up to the lookout at Mount Maxwell. Then it was off to eat our packed lunch at Point Ann and a short walk to the whale lookouts and along the point. The view of the blue green sea against the white sand was breath taking. We were too late in the year for the whales, so we had a brief trip up to West Mount Barren and had a play with the shoe brushing station which was placed at the beginning of the walk to help control dieback, a big problem here. Home again and then we strolled to the pizza restaurant at the van park for some excellent pizza and good company.

After a rainy night, we spent another day in slow motion, perhaps storing up energy for the last two weeks of our trip. Greg and I drove to all the lookouts and beaches around here and there was an amazing variety of different kinds of beaches: calm ones, surf breaks and just plain rough ones. There were also lots of blocks of land for sale and this once totally green peninsula appears to be getting developed. As well, we visited the Wellstead Museum on a property developed by one of the early pioneers of this region. The museum held several beautiful vintage and veteran cars, mostly American, and a hearse from Transylvania.

One of the tourist lookouts was associated with the wind power generator. I stood under it and the only sound was a soft "whoosh, whoosh." I find the windmills beautiful and stately. Finally the owner of the van park arrived back and was able to fill our gas bottle. The rest of the day we read the Saturday papers and lounged about and talked.

The next day was a travel day and we packed up and set off through Ravensthorpe to Esperance. We picked the 4 ¹/₂ star Crokers Van Park which is very nice, but it appears to be in an industrial area and right on the highway. As the rain and wind started again this afternoon, maybe we were better off here than on the coast. We opted for an ensuite which is lovely and convenient and quite a roomy site. As Greg and I did not sleep well last night and although we arrived in the early afternoon, we decided on a nap and rest and did nothing. We had a happy hour in our camper and the group became quite merry and relaxed. Shep and I watched a little bit of television in the t.v. room tonight while Greg crashed early.

The rain was still with us in the morning and while Shep and Merri rested, Dawn, Greg and I followed the great Esperance Drive. The Arts Centre and the Museum didn't open until 1 pm, so we browsed around the shops in the Historical Precinct, saw Sammy the Seal at the jetty and visited various lookouts and beaches along the rugged coast. We had lunch at a picnic table in the wind farm and as before in Bremer Bay, at 50 metres from the nearest tower, we could barely hear them. Even in this windy spot, they turn so slowly that a bird would have to be a prime candidate for naturally selected extinction to fly into one. Afterwards we saw the Pink Lake which isn't, pink, that is, although it certainly is a lake. By the time we returned to town, the Arts Centre and Museum were open. The former was disappointing, but the museum was chock a block full of interesting stuff, including pieces of Skylab which crashed not too far away, by WA standards. We then did a bit of shopping and returned home to another happy hour...

As we have come to expect, the next day started with rain pelting down. It did not look too promising as Dawn, Greg and I set off for Le Grand National Park. It was drizzling as we explored around Frenchman's Peak, so called because it looks like someone wearing a beret. We travelled to the remarkable Hellfire Beach which lays claim to having the whitest sand in Australia. Then we went to Thistle Cove and Lucky Bay where Flinders sheltered from a storm in 1802. The latter has a well-serviced camping area. At Thistle Cove the picnic table has been moved out from under Whistling Rock and onto a blustery headland. We then proceeded all the way to Rossiter's Bay. Eyre was picked up by Captain Rossiter of the Mississippi during Eyre's trek across the Nullarbor and he was feasted on board the ship. Lastly we went to Le Grand Beach, a really lovely camping area and a very long and beautiful beach. .

By this time the weather had broken and we enjoyed the sun that afternoon and all of the next day.

For Greg and me, Wednesday was a bit of a utility day, but Merri and Shep took advantage of the fine weather and cruised to the Recherche Islands and Woody Island. Meanwhile, I bought some fresh fish for tonight, did all the washing and then shopped: first for souvenirs and then for groceries. I was feeling a bit queasy, so I lay down after I made Greg lunch. Later we went out to a place that makes leather out of fish skins. I was not impressed by the prices. Otherwise, we just rested for the big push the next day.

We packed up and left Esperance early, bound for Fraser Range, about 90 km east of Norseman. As we left Norseman after morning tea, we saw storm clouds gather. Hail was predicted. We reached Fraser Range before lunch and decided to press on. Before us, we had many kilometres across the Nullarbor and we wanted to try to outrun the storm. Lunch at Newman rocks was pleasantly warm, but as we travelled east, we noticed the expected tailwind had become a headwind. We felt sorry for the cyclists, pedaling in the same direction. Around 4 pm we pulled into a rest area, a large one, about 40 km from Caiguna, but it was very exposed and the wind was whipping us about. As well, the dunny pipe was broken off, and the wind whipped up my bottom, not the most pleasant experience. There was no question of my not using it, as the rest area was quite populated and there were no trees or hills. As compensation, the clouds parted in the west to reveal a beautiful sunset.

We left the rest area by 7:30 am after a good night's sleep. Heading east through a light drizzle, we followed the Hampton Tablelands on our right for miles after Madura Pass. At last we crossed the Western Australia/South Australia border and began visiting all the lookouts we missed on the way in, some with better views of the Bite than others. Instead of spending the night in a windy lookout rest area, only advisable if you carry your own toilet, we found one in the mallee scrub on the opposite side of the road. Greg discovered that you can find good camping, if you drive the tracks about 200 metres or so behind the rest area. We tucked in behind some bushes. It was secluded and peaceful. We even had a fire and sat around it, chatting. There was a brilliant sky which Shep called a Simpson sky. We were in the Nullarbor National Park.

We had trouble getting up the next morning, perhaps because of the 1 ¹/₂ hour time change yesterday. We have been putting Bio fuel in the car as it is cheaper and some petrol stations carry only this. Petrol prices at some roadhouses are exorbitant and this is the way to partly battle the high fuel costs.

After the border of Nullarbor National Park, we passed a sign declaring the Western End of the Nullarbor Plain. Oddly enough there are more trees on the Nullarbor than the previous 300 km.

In almost no time, we arrived at Fowlers Bay. Greg wanted to drive the dunes, but they had three days of rain and one of the roads was closed. Shep and Greg went fishing, an exercise in feeding the fish, (I must point out here that no sea creatures were harmed in the making of this trip) while Dawn and I went for a walk. In an old hall, some men told us of a community barbecue tonight, a fund raiser to refurbish the hall. Greg planned to fish for squid off the jetty

The barbecue was great fun. Locals and caravanners mingled over a big mallee fire. There were steaks, fresh caught salmon, sausages and salad. A girl who taught at Yalata told us about the methods she used with the aboriginal children. The students' learning style required her to use stories instead of phonics to teach reading. Then when she returned from school holidays, she virtually had to start over again as the children had no contact with the English language in the vacation period. Greg and Shep's fishing and squiding came to naught and overnight a big wind came up which was blowing sand off the top of the dunes. Greg was not comfortable taking us four wheel driving, so, although we paid for two nights, we left Fowlers Bay and continued on home.

Merri and Shep suggested this great camping spot near Minnipa on the Eyre Peninsula. Pildappa is a rock that resembles Wave Rock with a huge picnic area and free camping, although there were no facilities. We set up camp with a view of the Gawler ranges, climbed the rock and walked round it. After dinner, there were presentations. Merri and Shep gave us a black cockatoo mobile. Greg gave everyone presents: Merri, a toy train; Dawn, a trailer and 4 WD to practise u-turns and Shep, a voice changer.

That night the rain began in a town known for research into dryland farming. In the morning we awoke to a beautiful double rainbow. On our way, we stopped at Wudinna Rock, the second largest monolith in Australia, passing Little Wudinna Rock, Turtle Rock and Cottage Loaf Rock. None were very impressive. In Wudinna we had a cappuccino for the first time in a week.

We travelled well until Port Augusta when Dawn radioed that she was leaving us. She had entered Wollongong as a destination into her GPS and for some reason, it was sending her up the Stuart to Coober Pedy. Her GPS must be like Shep's which had suggested he travel home from Esperance, up along the coast through Broome, Katherine etc. Needless to say, we stuck together until Peterborough where we had a farewell afternoon tea. Shep and Merri were off to the Clare Valley, Dawn along the Murray and Greg wanted to take the Barrier Highway.

He was after desert scenery and perhaps some wildlife sightings. The Camps book listed several roadside camping places, where he decided we could pull in for the night. Bad idea. First of all the landscape was barren with fewer trees than the Nullarbor. We could not tuck ourselves into thick scrub. Secondly, there were fences all along the highway, so we could not get away from the road. Thirdly, there were no other grey nomads for company. So we passed treeless rest stops right on the highway with the only vaguely suitable spot already occupied by a group with which we would not feel comfortable spending the night. And it got later and later.

We pushed on until the border town of Cockburn, which was like something from a Stephen King story. It consisted of several old dwellings on a flat, dusty landscape. It was supposed to have a van park, but we couldn't see it on the one road in town. Greg parked the camper trailer and then walked to the pub to ask directions. The publican of the empty bar, told Greg he could get the key from a lady who lived in the green house. As he walked to the house, a lady beckoned to him from across the road in front of the fibro community hall, so he headed there. At that point, an old gentleman on crutches, who was standing by his front gate, called to Greg telling him to go into the house. Greg tried to tell him that the lady was over the road at the Community Centre but he either couldn't or wouldn't hear of it. After we got the key and paid, we got into the car and found the van park was an old, weedy, vacant lot with some power boxes. We had been parked next to it and were to be the only customers. All the townsfolk, which seemed to consist solely of old men, and one old lady, came out of their houses and pointed out where it was. The toilet and shower block were broken, but we had the key to the motel toilet and showers. This was a bit of a walk through rubble and weeds. It was also unoccupied and quite basic. Our footsteps on our way to the loo and showers were accompanied by the sound of barking dogs. Meanwhile, the gas valve at the front of the van started hissing. I managed to cook dinner and we had a fitful night. Greg dreamed the townsfolk rose up to murder us in our beds. The next morning was hot and sunny and the power kept going out. We really couldn't wait to leave.

So we crossed the border into NSW and travelled through Broken Hill. We had morning tea at the only decent rest stop on the Silver City Highway, Popitah Lake. With toilets , shade and tables, it's a good spot to break the journey. We were joined by Apostle birds, a mummy magpie with her young magpie, butcher birds, and noisy minors which Greg encouraged by feeding them. Greg seems to take great delight in feeding the wildlife because he knows how it annoys me. We saw the wildlife Greg was looking for on the way from Broken Hill to Mildura. There were hundreds of wild goats and quite a few wild donkeys. We arrived at Mildura before lunch and went to find a place to repair the gas. We needed to get the pressure tester joint fixed as it had lost a screw. Afterwards we stayed at my son, Daryl's, for two days R and R before heading home. And so we officially ended the Cockatoo Run.