Jono has dreamed of surfing Red Bluff and various Gnaraloo Station breaks since his teenage years, and so was looking forward to the Carnarvon portion of our trip almost more than any other. Keeping an eagle eye on the surf charts in the weeks leading to our arrival, he watched as the swell he was hoping to materialise … didn’t.
We determined to visit both places anyway, even if only to see them in the flesh sand. Arriving in Carnarvon after the 325 kilometre drive from Shark Bay (you can read our Shark Bay post here), we checked Claude into storage, filled our car with diesel, did a shop and departed again post-haste.
The drive between Kalbarri and the World Heritage listed Shark Bay featured kangaroos, a mob of emus, numerous herds of goats, two echidnas and a huge wedge-tailed eagle feasting on a carcass, so we thought we might be in for a good time.
Arriving in the isolated town of Denham (pronounced “denim”) on Shark Bay’s Peron Peninsula we dithered for a while as dithering in Denham sounded like fun but also because we hadn’t figured out where we were going to stay. (more…)
Our time in Kalbarri was some of the best but also the most nerve-wracking of the trip so far. While elated to be back on the road, we were anxious wrecks driving out of Geraldton, terrified that our caravan would fall off or explode or maybe transform into a passionfruit vine and tangle our car wheels up. None of the aforementioned scenarios eventuated and so we made it safely to our destination.
While nowhere near as large or as famous as its Queensland cousin (you might have heard of the Great Barrier Reef?), the Abrolhos Islands certainly ain’t too shabby. Some fun facts:
- Since the Abrolhos are islands in nature as well as in name, unless you’re an extremely good swimmer, you can only access them by plane or boat. We went with the former and made a day trip out of it (brownie points to Jono for orchestrating it as a surprise for Laura’s 30th birthday)
On leaving the desert we backtracked to the nearest decent-sized town, checked into Ceduna Foreshore Caravan Park, collapsed in two heaps and slept for about fifty hours. Then, upon re-entering the land of the conscious, we fully indulged in the luxurious comforts of caravan park life (Showers! Electricity! Toilets!).
In the interests of allowing our desert-addled brains sufficient time to recuperate, the next couple of days were also pretty low key, mostly involving gentle strolls (us) and frenzied runs (Neddy) along the Ceduna foreshore. And lots of food. On our fourth and final night in town we purchased a dozen locally caught oysters for the bargain price of $7, sat on the grass near the jetty and ate them as we watched the sun go down. The colours were spectacular. (more…)