Smelling guts and loose tyres

Were we in for a shock or what?!

Karijini had left us breathless and needless to say, our expectations had risen about what was to come next. All the reason why dirty-dump-bum-hole-nowhere, or more commonly known as Port Hedland, was a big disappointing slap in the face.

Port Hedland is a very small port/mining town, located in the Pilbara region of Western Australia. And well, that’s all there is to say about it really. The fact that it was a Sunday and everything was closed for this day, probably didn’t help much towards our opinion of this little place either. Driving around we did find a 24/7 (?) McDonald’s and a deserted but functioning Coles. How deserted? Well, the guys had a full on thong-fight: running around barefoot, throwing their thongs over the aisles trying to hit each other. Then deciding that using the deodorant-cans was more effective in making everyone smell like Britney Spears. After that they got thirsty and they downed a Fanta each before putting the empty bottles back on the shelves. Aahh.. well done guys… Mark: “Only in Port Hedland can you leave Coles re-hydrated and smell like a woman! Fuck yeah , Australia! Whoo!” *Air-punch.

We needed a plan. Nobody felt anything much for staying here, but it was getting rather late and even though Britney Spears deodorant smells awesome, we were still smelly and covered in bush/pindan/camping black dirt. Another nearby camp-site provided us with our necessary shower needs and we met up at the servo next door to discuss the next step. What was it going to be? Stay and leave early? Or drive on to the next town; Broome… 600 km’s up the road.

Up here, wet season was starting to get noticeable. Although it was the end of the season, it didn’t stop the ridiculous humidity and heat increasing by every km. The non-air-conditioned drives had gotten pretty tough. The nights’ cool breeze would give us a break from the sweating-fest. Night drive it is, red-bulls got knocked back and off we went.

The Great Northern Highway is long and straight.. very straight. No roadhouses or anything else for the whole drive. There was an 80 mile beach was on our left but we couldn’t see a thing because of the darkness, the only thing that truly stood out was the amazing lightning storm in the distance. Perfect wet-season weather. To keep ourselves awake and kill time, we started singing. The guys started banging on the roof for a bass and the singing soon turned into some jungle tune/monkey screeches.. oh well, whatever keeps you awake:)

After a while it was Dick’s turn to get some sleep in the back before he took his turn driving. No problem. But there is a slight offside to being stuck together in a van 24/7 all the time. There comes a time where burps or farts can’t be hidden any more, if you gotta go, you gotta go, there is no point in trying to keep it in. Especially if you have another 500 km’s to go. So the time also came for Dick to drop his guts. You know… all good, just keep your head close to the rolled down window. But then again, and again! Until it became a every two minute fart and not just the average smelly kind, but the silent ones, the kind that burns your nostrils and stays hanging around you. Every few minutes the silence got disturbed. Ben: “AAaahhwww!!!!! Dude what Did you eat!?” Mark:”Shhhhitt, even sticking your head outside of the window doesn’t help!”……. ” Are you Serious! You’re going to make me pass out and hit something!”  Dick: “Hey I can’t help it, I have a really bad stomach ache.” The thing was, the smell seemed to get worse by the second. To the point where we actually pulled over and forced him to ‘go’. He said he didn’t need to but that he couldn’t stop the farting. This actually went on for almost two hours, it was funny at first but we all just started to get pissed off by the end of it.

A sleeping Dick and a few hours later there was a loud bang and the van skidded off to the side of the road where Mark stopped the van perfectly. “Woah, what was that?” Ben asked worried looking. The tyre had blown. We sort of knew it was going to happen sooner or later, but all was alright because we had a spare tyre attached to the bull-bar. We all got out into the pitch-black night and helped with the jack and getting tools out to remove the tyre. I actually found it a little exciting, stuck in the middle of nowhere, blown tyre -  just a little adventure to write home about. Neither of us had ever changed a tyre but everything went smoothly, just had to re-attatch the spare and off we could go. The van was quite old and in bad shape as it was, we were lucky to even get a spare with it when we bought it. So, so lucky.. The tyre did not come off. Didn’t even budge in any way. The screw was stuck and none of us could get it loose. We all took turns in holding the torch while another would bang the tyre with a wrench/crowbar/foot-out-of-frustration to try and get the tyre off! It got to the point where we thought it might be easier to remove the bull-bar too. Yeah the heat was getting to our heads by then.. After two hours of screaming, banging and utter frustration of being stuck without help, it came off!! Ahh! Imagine the clouds parting and a ray of sun shining through. Two hours for a tyre change but we did it! The last few hours were smell and worry free.

The challenge

Finally!

Exhaustion had kicked in and the needle was hitting the Empty sign. Battling our way through the last km’s we arrived at the closed Roebuck roadhouse at 5 am. 8 hours of one hell of a drive and out of gas and energy we closed our eyes until we could fuel up.

Roebuck sunrise

Roebuck humour

What’s the moral of the story? None really It is however a part of my story that could not be left out and that made my trip what it was

-Ainslie

Squealing men and the sad loss of Eddie

Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar.  ~Bradley Millar

After I had calmed down and had been the centre of mocking the entire evening we packed up the van to get ready for bed. Mark was getting the sheets ready in the van, while the rest of us tidied up our stuff at the back. Though the guys had been laughing at my ridiculous adventure earlier, the second the dingo howling started again they leaped up. We could hear the dingoes walking around in the bushes next to our van but it was too dark to see. We were all facing the van when Dick suddenly noticed a dingo standing behind him inches away. “WHOA!” was hardly spoken when the four of us lunged ourselves into the van within a split second, ending up landing on each other. Dick and Mark squealing and screaming: “Shut the door! Shut the door! Shut the door!” ..mahahahaha…who’s a stupid wee girl now? Four other dingos appeared, the one next to our van looking at us sheepishly while Ben slammed the door shut before it felt welcome to join us. Scared to death but feeling rather stupid, the four of us sat in the back of the van peering through the windows to see what the danger dogs were up to. After scaring off another girl in a camper-van across from ours, they set off into the dark howling.

As guys do, they laugh at how scared the other person looked, take the piss out of that other person to disguise their own humiliation and in the meantime throw worried glances over to the bushes. Am I glad I don’t have to deal with that, I can actually use the excuse to be a girl and it is all  understood immediately.

Sleeping that night was a bit of a mission for me. Tired but feeling kind of jumpy, I stayed awake for quite a while listening to strange noises and Ben’s snoring. Then, as expected, I heard multiple footsteps and saw shadows move across the side of the tent. The dingoes had not given up on us yet and a few circled the tent for a while. My heart thumping, I tried to block it out by pulling the covers over my ears. I was determined not to create another overly dramatic girlie scene again. The clattering of crockery, chewing and howling took over the silence. Ben straightened up in fright, but then relaxed. “They’re just eating our rice leftovers, go back to sleep.” He turned over while I sat there not feeling comforted at all. One of the dingoes kept walking closely past our tent, sniffing. Now scratching at the bottom of our tent, as if to get in, Ben sat up too. “It’s trying to get in your tent!” Dick yelled out of the window. “We know!” I replied panicky.

“Ains… do you still have those muesli-bars in your bag?” Ben asked accusingly. I had, I always had them in my bag and my bag was always in the tent at night. It contained all my valuables (and food, I’m always hungry) and I preferred to keep it with me. It all went ape-shit from here. Ben started yelling..”How can you! There’s dingoes looking for food and you have food IN the tent!” I just started crying. I didn’t dare to open the tent to throw them out. Ben was freaking out, I was freaking out and got angry at Mark and Dick for leaving the pans with rice out, everyone got angry at me for being a little cry baby and being stupid enough to have food in the tent with me. Then Mark and Dick got involved and it became a bit of a yelling fest for a while between the car and the tent, mostly directed at me.

Mark and Dick eventually opened the van door and started throwing things at the dingoes in an attempt to scare them off. It worked! They placed all the pans in the van and threw my bag in there too, before making clear to cut the crap and now really heading off to bed.

The next night we gathered around a big lantern we had lying around with an English couple; Nick and Nicky. Not only were their names funny, it was nice to meet some new people. As you know lights attract insects. Well, tonight quite an interesting little fellow joined our company. A praying mantis,  a pretty big one actually. I’d only seen them in nature programmes and was absolutely ecstatic to see one up close. During the evening we found out that Eddie, as we had named him, was quite tame and friendly. All of us took turns letting him crawl over our arms and hands and when we tried to put him back down on the ground, Eddie would crawl right back onto our knees and make his way up to our hands again. Cute little fella…:)

The occasional dingo howl was heard throughout the evening and made us all laugh, but no unwanted guests tonight. Eddie accompanied us all night with his crawling curiosity.

When it was time for bed we tried to set Eddie free. Still trying to crawl back onto us when we got up, we really had to say goodnight to him and leave him. The light went off and was followed by a loud crunching noise and Mark’s guilty voice saying “Uh-oh..” Turning back on the light he stood there staring at the sole of his thong, covered in a green mash that was formally known as Eddie.

Nick, Nicky and the rest of us stared at him in disbelief. “NNooooo! He killed Eddie!” While Mark looked really guilty. “I’m sorry, it’s just so dark..I didn’t mean to..”

So sad to see our little friend end up squashed under a shoe. But that’s life isn’t it? (I’d like to insert a funny or wise quote here, but I can’t think of one to match this incident) Karijini was an experience to remember nonetheless.

A few years have passed now and I have overcome my fear of dingoes and I have even managed to pat one in a zoo. Yes, a tame one… but that’s not the point. Although I still believe I would wet my pants if the same same thing would happen again. Also Eddie is still in our hearts, may he rest in peace.

 

For more photo’s

Dingo Dash

Lesson of the day: Little girls who go walk-about in the bush alone, will attract dingoes. They will chase you like you’re a Happy Meal.

The North-Western Pilbara region holds Australia’s most breathtaking national park, Karijini. In my opinion of course. Red rock formations light up against the green vegetation all around. Add a brightly coloured sunset overlooking this widespread landscape and you’ll get a good idea of why I love this area so much.

Thrashing our ‘old faithful’ of a van over the dusty dirt roads through the midst of this endless scenery, gave us all the feeling that this was what our trip was about. Like true outback explorers, we drove around for a while to see what Karijini had to offer. We discovered gorges, swam in the fresh water pools and screamed our lungs out while jumping off cliffs.

Back home I’d usually unwind by having a long walk after dinner, Ipod on, letting my thoughts flow, it was my little moment to myself I really valued. So after this amazing day, with the sun still up for a little while longer, I decided it was the perfect time to have a little wander around.

During all this driving around I felt like I had started to master this whole ‘sense of directions’ thing. Confident and excited I told the guys I wouldn’t be long, I mean, if I just stuck to the paths it would be fine. Heading off, I tried to make mental notes of at which tree I had turned left or right. Then after a few minutes I came across a sign indicating a 300 m return walk ahead. Ah.. 300 m, I could fit that in before the sun goes down! I started the walk on the grass-overgrown path but had to stop abruptly after  a few minutes. A dingo came out of nowhere,  stopped in the middle of the path and stood watching me, in silence – I started to panic.

Yes.. I am aware some people say dingoes are like pets, cuddly pets in fact, absolutely harmless. But then there is another group of people that say dingoes are like wolves. They aren’t big but they are wild dogs, carnivores. I am 5 foot nothing, to them a meal on legs.

I was terrified. Glued to the spot all I could remember from my days working as a veterinary nurse was to not look it in the eyes and back away slowly. As soon as I was able to move my feet I did exactly that. Still walking backwards, staring at the ground, I backed off slowly until the staring dingo was out of sight. From there all I could feel was my heart beating and the blind panic that took over. I started running as fast as I could, hoping it wouldn’t chase me, mistaking me for a half-priced meal-deal. Newspaper headlines flashed through my mind (I’m not exaggerating, they really did) “Backpacker attacked by dingoes whilst out for a walk”. Bloody hell! How could I have been so stupid!

While running I heard howling, which turned into more howls coming from all directions. The panic increased when I realised I couldn’t remember if I had to turn left or right at a fork in the road. I blindly chose to go left. SHIT! Nothing looked familiar. I kept running until I saw a camper-van through the trees ahead. Thank god, human beings! It wasn’t the camping-ground I stayed at but a French couple handed me a map and gave me directions. I must have looked like a complete crazy person, almost in tears, out of breath. I couldn’t thank them enough and ran off to the path where I should have gone right instead of left. Turned out it would have led me straight to the right camping ground.

Relieved to see the guys I explained what had happened. More howling, now close by. The guys laughed it off but said they’d keep an eye out for me.

Those smiles would turn into screaming soon…..

To be continued..

The locust massacre

Our stallion on four wheels had made it out of Exmouth safely. No wailing sirens chasing us down the deserted streets. Still, going into hiding for the night seemed like a good idea, you know, just in case. Cape Range National Park provided us with a legal camping-spot on the beach, looking out over a  gap in between two cliffs with the sea at our feet. We set up a camp-fire under the stars and truly felt like the luckiest bastards alive.

The next day we spent driving all day to Karijini National Park. A long but beautiful drive, until it happened, in the outback: the female monthly drama started. Dying of cramps, overwhelmed by the heat and flies in the back of the van, I tried as hard as I could to not think about it. To me, the worst thing that could happen, I mean, try and explain your mood swings to three guys. Suddenly the 20 flies that got trapped in the back of the van with me, were all I could see. Annoyed , angry and armed with a thong (Ozzie translation) they were the perfect outlet for venting my frustrations.

It got late and we found a quiet roadhouse to crash for the night. During the drive it was obvious we had hit some insects on the way. The headlights acted as an insect magnet and we had to stop sometimes to clear the victims off our front window. About half an hour before we got to the roadhouse, the splattering noise increased by the second. When we got out of the van it became clear why. Millions, I shit you not, millions of locusts! In the air, on the ground… stuck in my bikini top.  Screaming like a little girl… It was quite an impressive sight.

Witness the bastards.

Setting up camp was madness. We had to do it all in the dark because turning on the headlights meant a full-on locust attack from all angles. After the tent was set up, I walked over to the bathrooms to freshen up a little and wash away my moody attitude. Walking through the complete darkness, I suddenly realised the crunching under my feet definitely weren’t branches. It wasn’t until I switched on my phone to use as a torch and aimed it on the ground, that I realised I was walking on a thick layer of dead/half dead/alive locusts. The entire ground was covered in them! Ok, they were a bit annoying but I had no intention of killing them.. unlike flies, but that’s a different story. I was already halfway and stood there for a bit, grossed out and contemplating what to do. I really needed that bathroom! So I carefully walked on my tip-toes, hoping to avoid another massacre under my feet.

Guess what locusts attract? Yes! Frogs! Millions of them too! Fast food flying around, if I were a frog, I wouldn’t miss out. Frogs landing on my feet, sliding down my leg after an attempted hop, locusts covering everything, I finally made it to the bathroom. Opening that door felt like my personal Everest. Until I switched on the light and had a look inside. At least 30 frogs decorated the toilet bowl from inside out, dead and alive locusts, ants and spiders covered the entire little space, it was like insect heaven. The other frogs happily hopped around with their tongues sticking out, having something land on them every second. They must have felt like the luckiest bastards alive.

Remember the scene from ” Raiders of the Lost Ark”, with the snakes, and the one with the spiders? Well, this made Indiana’s adventures look like a walk in the park!

Great… now what? Nothing could cheer me up now. This whole ‘Living the Dream’ thing started to show some dark sides. I growled but started laughing out loud straight after. It’s just one of those days, might as well look on the bright side of it.

Insect mayhem like this also meant snakes. Someone once told me to stomp my feet around before squatting, to scare off any nearby snakes. Whether this is true or not, I didn’t care. Rather have myself look like a complete idiot than having a snake hanging from my bum. So thankfully in the complete darkness, I stomped around a little, took the risk and squatted down in the grass. Clutching a toilet roll in between my chest and chin, balancing on one hand and using my free hand to swat away any creepy crawlies from flying against my bum, or drowning. See, even I have a heart.

I tried to run back to the tent this time. It seemed I was the only one who had witnessed this crazy insect night, everyone had passed out.

“Welcome to Australia”.. I still hear Dick’s voice echoing in the back of my mind. Yeah..cheers mate.

Drive through? Crash through!

Again I would have started this post about how we just arrived in Exmouth and the beach was so pretty..which it was by the way..but I’m sure everyone gets that by now. So I’ll leave that out but just to give you a mental image of Exmouth beaches:

Clear Blue

Turquoise Bay

I know right?:) Even though it was absolutely heaven to see, Ben was a little annoyed there were no waves. Oh well, even in heaven you can’t have it all.

The evening started surprisingly enough by watching the guys doing the push-up sessions to even out the testosterone levels. Yawn.. We hadn’t found a place to sleep yet and had seen one camp-site but it would be a bit of a mission to get in there unnoticed. We parked on a big parking-lot nearby to have a meal, when I noticed a restaurant. An Italian restaurant, with luscious pizza’s and mozzarella salad starters. Dribbling at the thought of sinking my teeth into the worlds’ best food, I grabbed Ben and dragged him into the restaurant. Mark and Dick gave it a miss. Who does that? It was worth the money alright. Ben and I had a great chat and he even paid a little towards it. (His budget for the next three days, bless him.) After that the four of us hung out on the parking-lot discussing burps, farts and god knows what, when it became time to figure out what to do for a sleeping spot.

Driving around the camp-site we found a fence. A removable fence. If you get what I’m saying.. Mark and Dick got a sneaky smile on their faces as Ben and I hid in the back under blankets hoping this was going to go alright. We drove right onto a perfect little spot to park the car and we set up tent as if we had been there all day. Obviously people had seen us. After a while a blond, long dread-locked-haired guy came up. (Picture the typical, surfer dude, who speaks slow as if he has been smoking weed all day) ” Man,.. you can’t just drive through the fence, man. That’s not cool man.” We promised him we were going to see reception in the morning. Laughing our asses off after he walked off. Hippy surfer dude. Muahaha.

Well, you can guess what happened in the morning. It sort of went like this. After showering and up-dating my diary, Dick came up and told us we had to get out now. We had taken too much time getting our stuff together, reception was open and hippy surfer dude was on to us. We packed up like crazy and got into the van. I’ve never been  more happy for it to actually start in one go. Suddenly Mark told us to hold on tight and started revving up. “What are you doing?!” I yelled at him. ” We don’t have time to move the fence, just hold on!” he yelled back. We flew forward and before I knew it we burst through the fence, loudly skidding before speeding off as if we had just robbed a bank.

We all laughed and screamed for ages. Still can’t believe we did that. We quickly got some food for the night and drove off out of public places where we could be recognised. The next thing we’ll be hitting, is a pillow!

 

Awesome bets and the return of the bare bum

“Maybe we should get the van fixed”.. “What!? Maybe we should get you fixed!”

The next day we used to explore this little bit of paradise. It was around this time that the thought of taking the plane back to the Netherlands in a few months time, started to become less of an option. I had wanted to come here for years and the idea of having this experience tied down to a time limit made me panic. The guys liked Coral Bay enough to try and find a job there. A bit bummed out I couldn’t work because of visa restrictions, I spent the afternoon on the beach researching other options instead. Also trying to plan how to tell my mum it was likely I wouldn’t come home for while, was something I had to work on.

Snorkelling is so overrated in Coral bay . The minute I got into the water, a massive school of fish surrounded me and followed me about, hoping to be fed. When I saw this little boy feeding some bigger fish some crisps from his hand, I ran out to get my chocolate chip cookies and do the same. Who needs goggles when fish eat out of your hand?

Fish feeding

Mark had found a whale shark tour he booked for the next day. I now wish I had gone too but at the time it just seemed a little bit above my budget and I left it for what it was. Later that day we ran into the Danish again on the beach. How small is the world?!

We joined them again that evening and Lisa started the discussion about their food costs. Turned out Martin likes his food, a lot. They had steak earlier (!) and spent about $130 every other day just on food. Wow.. She was trying to get us to convince Martin it was too much, especially when she found out that we spent next to nothing. Then the conversation turned into star-talk. I told them how annoyed I was not to find any of the constellations I usually see in the sky, such as Scorpio and the Big Dipper. Alright, the Southern Cross is pretty cool when you see it for the first time. I concluded being on the southern hemisphere must mean that everything is different here. Not only that, but being on a less populated area of the world made it possible for us to see the milky way and millions of other stars that are usually invisible because of city lights. Lisa swore she had seen the Big Dipper a few times. The whole conversation got loud, everyone joining in and Martin saying it was impossible to see it here. When she suggested that if she could find it, they had to eat pasta and sauce all week, Martin thought this was unlikely but they shook hands to seal the deal anyway.

After 11 pm she took everyone down to the beach, looked at the horizon and pointed it out laughing and yelling that she had won. It was upside down, but it was the Big Dipper alright. I’ve never seen anyone get so excited about eating pasta and plain, bland sauce. Oh, he’ll get used to it

Mark and Ben took the dark and deserted beach as a chance to do a quick drunken skinny dip… together. Screaming and stumbling they ran in while the rest of us just laughed at the disturbing sight. What Ben didn’t realise was that Mark had left his boxer shorts on. Though at first it did look like Ben was wearing shorts too, it that turned out to be his incredibly white bum. He figured it out when Mark got out of the water. ” You’re gay Mark, you’re  not even naked! So gay!”

Before the Skinny Dip

After an amazing morning walk on the beach by myself, we had to leave for Exmouth. Jobs were scarce in this town and Dick ended up not really feeling up to working on his holiday. We got in the van, waved goodbye to the Danish…. and nothing. The van did not make a sound whatsoever. Again!!!! But we were in luck! Jacob turned out to know a thing or two about cars and spent the whole morning fixing stuff, replacing fuses and finding jumper leads for us. What a guy He even got our lights and the radio to work again. Damned van.. At least there was no embarrassing running around the parking lot involved this time. Jacob did mention we needed to get our engine fixed and he estimated it at around $2000 to do so. Sooo…That’s out of the question. It does give the journey a little extra kick, you know? Not knowing we would make it..like..anywhere?

Road Surfing

It’s funny, I rung up Dick the other day on some details from one of our nights on the trip. “Do you know we have not had one single, normal day on our trip?” I asked him. We laughed. “But that’s what made it so memorable!” he replied. Ahh..if only we could do it all again.

Our second morning in Kalbarri, Dick woke up with horrible back pain. He could not sit up or move one bit. Without breakfast, we packed up and drove to the nearest chiropractor, hoping this guy had a few minutes for an emergency treatment. Ben and Mark carried him in, it turned out the chiropractor did have time and Dick was helped straight away. A bit later he came out walking by himself looking much better. His back had been cracked and patched up with this special band-aid thing on his back. No movement for Dick today, which meant only one thing…Beach day!!

Red bluff was meant to be a beautiful beach and oh my was it! Again, not a soul in sight, my favourite thing about Australia,- paradise to yourself. The surf was incredible. (By now I’d actually become good at recognising what good surf is and what’s not) While Dick and I spent the afternoon on our backs in the sand, Mark and Ben were out in the waves all day. Every now and then we’d cheer them on from the beach and took some really good photos. On the way back they couldn’t stop talking about the surf, as if they were two little 5 year olds coming back from a party. Later on, Ben confessed that he hadn’t surfed for years. He had surfed since he was a little boy, until a few years ago, he had an accident and had almost drowned. He said he is lucky to be alive and unfortunately that accident had stopped him from getting back on his board. It was only a month ago he had tried it again. This day had been a milestone for him.

Ben surfing

X marks the spot

We had a great spaghetti dinner in the park. Convincing the guys that adding capers and cheese to the kind of bland sauce would really make a change, I think this must have been my best meal so far. That, noodles for lunch or a sick sandwich (Ben’s name for my mashed avocado on bread lunch special) were the only contents on my travel menu. Capers were a well enjoyed luxury.

No one noticed us, or came up to ask us if we had paid, so until that happened we stayed on the same camp-site again. At one point a guy from the van parked up next to us, came over and asked if he could use our power-point to change his phone. “Haha, sure mate, it’s free for us too.” He introduced himself as Jacob, a guy from Denmark, travelling together with his friends Martin and Ingelise (a.k.a. Lisa) up the west coast too. They seemed really cool so we joined them with our goon and our Moby filled Ipod. While we were all busy talking, this huge greenish shooting star shot over the sky. (Cheesy but amazing) It was an awesome sight! Never again have I seen such a big or bright shooting star. It’s hard for me to describe the atmosphere of this day, as I think it was just how we all felt together that made it such a memorable day. That good, that now, 3 years later, we still rave about it.

After a great night meeting new friends, we said our goodbye’s in the morning while we left for Pink lake in Port Gregory. (The pink colour is due to algae) Oh it was pink alright. Bright, raspberry pink. quite a crazy sight, something you’d only see in cartoons. Unfortunately it didn’t taste as good as it looked. Yes, sadly we tried. On our way again, we made stops at most of the cliff views around Kalbarri, which were as amazing as we had heard.

Island rock, Kalbarri

Pink Lake

 

Dick in Pink

People on the way had told us Monkey Mia was the bees knees. “A small place, but great for spotting dolphins and amazing beaches’. Alright that sounded awesome, let’s go there! 380 km’s later it was starting to get dark and we decided to stop in Denham for a free night. We got up at the crack of dawn to drive on to Monkey Mia, but got a bit delayed after Dick realised after 40 km’s he had left his phone charging at the camp-site in Denham. Shit! We did a u-turn and speeded back. Reception had opened by now but no one asked questions when Dick walked past and finding his phone still in the same spot. Alright,..back on the road again.

Monkey Mia Resort had an entrance fee of $6 a person and I think because of that we expected quite a bit. Sadly is was extremely touristic and seemed more like a zoo. The dolphins were indeed free but because of standard feeding times, it might as well have been a zoo. Within two hours we left again. Carnarvon (what the hell) was our next stop. Haha well pit-stop really. This place seemed so dull we left again immediately after a quick lunch, making it all the way to Coral bay. Now there’s paradise on earth!

Coral bay is the definition of what those postcards look like when somebody goes on a exotic holiday and wants to rub it in that you aren’t there. All of us were just stunned by the amazing little place. Whale-sharks, snorkelling and mantra rays, this was going to be an amazing few days. It was to early to sneak onto a camp-site, so we had a BBQ. Or well,.. there was already a party going on, we sort of just joined in to use the BBQ and enjoy their music, they didn’t seem to mind:) We had a great night hanging out with a two French guys we met they were flat broke and explained how to steal food in exchange for us telling them how to get free accommodation. Backpackers have each others back They taught me how to say “Qui va à la chasse perd sa place, qui va à la pêche, la repêche.” It means something like ‘He who leaves his seat, loses it’. Random, I know. The thing is, when you travel, everybody teaches you the most rude or strange words in various languages. I never remember a thing but this, I strangely remember. Oh and some German swear words I won’t repeat here. The six of us headed to our new free accommodation. More exploring tomorrow…

BBQ Coral Bay

Extreme camping

To me, road-trips are the best part of travelling. Getting lost or stuck is just part of the fun, even if it doesn’t seem to be that funny at the time. My last road-trip was with a friend through France and Spain in 2006. I had then insisted on sleeping in hotels with a 3 meals a day buffet and having the ocean no further than a 200 meter walk. My good friend Tim had tried to convince me to go camping, but just the idea of it made me shiver. I used to be the girl who would take 5 different kinds of shampoo along with her on a midweek holiday. You never know… Or would never leave the house without looking like I had a red carpet event to go to.

Now, here I was lying in the back of a van that did not ensure my life safety, stuck in between various sized backpacks, a stolen duvet and a few surfboards. Trying to lie as still as I could to avoid more sweating and prevent even more flies from attempting to fly into my ears and nostrils. Flies are the worst thing on the west coast, they are absolutely everywhere and will not leave you alone for a second. No more red-carpet-event-looks here, I couldn’t even remember, or care for that matter, how long it had been since I had changed my clothes. It had all come down to the simple sniff-test in the morning. Welcome to the real world.

Lancelin sunset

A long drive from Albany to Perth and beyond was on the agenda today and I drew the shortest straw to ride in the back. We all took turns as it was the worst place to be while driving long distances. No air-conditioning, even with the front windows down, we could hardly feel the breeze. Putting up with this heat made all the pit-stops more worth it. We made it all the way to Lancelin, a small surf-town just past Perth. Watching windsurfers in action and dolphins swimming past with the sun setting on the horizon, quickly made me forget about the sweaty trip up. From there we found a little pizza place stating they had ‘The best pizza in Australia’. Haha sure they were.. It had been a long day of driving over endlessly long roads and nobody could really be arsed to do any cooking. So why not try it out? It was great pizza, but I doubt they were the best in the country;)

Sleeping that night was a whole different story. It took us ages to find a good place to sleep. We drove around bushy, gravel roads just outside of Lancelin, trying to find somewhere where we wouldn’t be discovered by local rangers, but without any luck. All we did was get lost because it was too dark to see where we were going or where we came from. Eventually we pulled over and got out to get and idea of our whereabouts, when Mark spotted a scorpion. The thing was no larger than my hand and I still wonder to this day how he managed to see it in the dark. None of us had ever seen one before so it was really exciting. I can imagine not everyone gets excited about seeing a scorpion, as they’re not the cuddliest creatures, but still, a scorpion! Guys don’t always lose their childhood instincts in the process of growing up and neither did Mark, Dick and Ben. Before I knew it they were poking it with sticks to see how angry it would get. Really angry, surprisingly. Barefoot they jumped around, avoiding this menace trying to sting them. It was sort of entertaining, but I really had to put a stop to it when they caught it in a bucket and wanted to keep it. Seriously guys? Great idea, until we hit a bump, the bucket tips over and we have a scorpion on the loose in the van. It took some convincing, but eventually they let it go. Boys..*rolling eyes*

We ended up on a lay-by next to the highway. I will not complain, because at the end of the day, all we needed was to sleep but this night made me beg for a proper bed. The gravel that pierced through the foam mattress that we slept on wasn’t our worst concern. The strong wind was our real enemy. It was so bad that the side of the tent kept hitting our faces. We tried to stop it by stacking all our belongings against the side of the tent but the wind became so strong, that the whole thing almost went flying. The only thing keeping the tent in place was the weight of our bodies. Annoyed and getting very tired we tried our best to ignore the situation and sleep. Unfortunately ignoring it was impossible. We grunted and yelled at the wind hoping it would lessen soon, pulling the covers over our heads to block out the noisy bully. It wasn’t till 4 am, that we got the very clever idea to move the tent behind the van and use it as a windshield. Very clever indeed. It actually helped a lot and we got a little bit of sleep in the end. Mark and Dick had not noticed a thing…

The next day was the only time I actually enjoyed lying in the back. Even Ben joined me to catch up on sleep. A blissful 297 km’s to go till Geraldton to go.

The calm morning after