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…)
During our final days in Elliston reports began to filter through that a mammoth storm cell was brewing off the coast of Madagascar. If things unfolded as predicted this storm would create a swell so large that it would affect up to 70% of the world’s oceans, generating surf conditions that dreams are made of. Well accustomed to Mother Nature’s tempestuousness, we barely dared to hope that it would pan out. However, this didn’t stop Jono from checking the swell charts so often it looked like he had a nervous tick. (more…)
We’re soon to post our final blogs about our time in South Australia, but before we do we thought we’d share this clip. Mostly (Jono’s) booger heaven, we think it goes a good way towards explaining just why we loved Australia’s southern state as much as we did – and so much more than we expected to! (more…)
We kicked off our Eyre Peninsula west coast adventure by heading to a free camp called Point Drummond. On arriving at this very isolated, very beautiful, coastal stretch we found there wasn’t all that many caravan-friendly sites available. After driving around the dirt tracks for a little while we ended up parking on a cliff’s edge. Though somewhat exposed to coastal winds it also offered uninterrupted 270 degree ocean views. No complaints from us. (more…)
In the interests of efficiency (our middle names) we booked Bernie and Claude in for servicing at Port Augusta on the same day. Though Bernie passed his inspection with flying colours we received the unwelcome, though not unexpected, news that the charger in our caravan had malfunctioned and that both our batteries had died as a consequence. RIP. A few tears (Jono’s of course) and a couple of hours later Claude was proudly sporting a flash-Harry new system, which we tried to muster enthusiasm over given the significant knock to our bank accounts. (more…)
At the end of a loooooong first day in Adelaide, spent towing the van from one repair place to another, we heard an almighty crash while cresting a speed bump. Our hearts dropped when we realised that the sound was Claude, falling off the back of the car and smashing into the road. Some wonderful caravanning angel must have been on shift though as – amazingly – no damage was sustained, except to our pride (we hadn’t secured the van to the tow ball! Safe to say we won’t make that mistake a second time). (more…)
We’re not sure what was on our minds as we left the Fleurieu, heading for Marion Bay at the tip of the Yorke Peninsula. We assume we must have been thinking of Sydney – that urban paradise where supermarkets sprout on every street corner and wouldn’t dream of closing until at least 8pm. Indeed, we were most unpleasantly jerked back into regional South Australian reality when we remembered that we had no food and realised that our current trajectory offered no prospect of buying any. Time for a late afternoon u-turn.
From Beachport we made our way towards the Fleurieu Peninsula, stopping to marvel at the pink salt lakes in the Murray region. How weird and wonderful they are. (more…)