ACROSS THE NULLARBOR BEING KANE-TOED - "A Most Uncomfortable Journey"

Day 12
Wednesday 9 May 2018

Nullarbor Roadhouse to Cliff Camp 2

Up betimes only to find that we were the last customers of the Nullarbor Roadhouse to depart.

Not sure what this early rising thing is all about with these superannuated travellers.  It can't be that they they are racing each other to the next caravan park for fear of missing out on a spot - it's not that busy. 

Maybe they drive vast distances each day and like to make an early start? 

Maybe they are incontinent and wake up early whether they like it or not?

The Prop and Mrs P are not fond of driving vast distances and, being only moderately incontinent, like to sleep in until at least sunrise.  So, we do!

The "Big" Whale and the Cane Toad at the Nullarbor Roadhouse.  In fact the Big Whale is a bit of a tiddler being somewhat less than life-size.  Epic Whale Fail!

Mrs P identified a spectacular free camping site right on the edge of the continent atop 90 metre cliffs about 250 kilometres west of the Nullarbor Roadhouse. So that's where we went.

Seduced by the splendid panorama, the Prop established camp by locating the Cane Toad about 15 metres from the cliff face which, in broad daylight, seemed to be a safe and respectable distance which also permitted us to fully appreciate the outstanding vistas.

The great Australian Bight...munch, munch, munch!

The Cane Toad - at the Edge of Reality

However, in the dead of night as a strong north-westerly came in bearing heavy rains, the Prop's mind turned to geology, the probability of landslip, the coefficient of friction of rubber on gravel and the likelihood of our surviving a 90 metre fall into the chilly waters of the Great Australian Bight. 

The leading case of Muirhead v Kingborough Council also came to mind as the Prop slept fitfully on. 

Not since the infamous "Galata Tower Incident" (see "Hobart to Chios" 21 July 2015) has the Prop been filled with such intimations of mortality!

Day 13 
Thursday 10 May 2018

Cliff Camp 2 to Caiguna Roadhouse

Up betimes!

The dawn had arrived and the Prop was delighted to find that Mrs P, the Cane Toad, the cliffs and the Great Australian Bight were all more or less where they had been on the preceding evening.

Once again, the two or three other happy campers (who had all set up camp not less than 50 metres from the cliff face) departed before we did.  Maybe we should get an alarm clock?  Maybe the Prop should just stop worrying about being the last to leave?

A rainstorm rapidly approaching from the south-west galvanised the Prop into action and we once again headed west just as the maelstrom arrived.

The Gathering Storm     

We reached the Western Australian Border at about mid morning or noon - depending on which time zone you think you are in. Turns out that there is a little-known local time zone for the first 250 kilometres after the border which is 45 minutes behind South Australia (Central Standard Time) and 45 minutes ahead of the rest of Western Australia.

We were again required to jettison all fruit, vegetables and honey. Honey? What's that all about. The Prop has always thought that honey was good for you - not some kind of viscous disease-carrying emulsion as the Western Australian quarantine authorities would have us believe.  

The Prop is convinced it is some sort of scam.

Passed through Madura, the main attraction of which seems to be its one hole golf course and Roadhouse complete with Tasmanian "National Pies" and a thoroughly disgruntled proprietor whose second marriage seems to be no better than his first if his conversation while making us two cappuccinos is to be believed.

A couple of Associate Members about to tee off at the first (and only) at Royal Madura   

Just up the road from the golf course is a splendid lookout from which one might have viewed the "sunlit plains extended" had it been at all sunny.  Vast and dotted with funny little tree/shrubs it looks rather like the Serengeti - but without the elephants.

Not the Serengeti but room for a nine-hole course at least! 

Arrived at the Caiguna Roadhouse in the early afternoon - thinking it was 90 minutes later than the locals thought it was.

First to arrive and (as we shall see) again the last to leave!

The Caiguna Roadhouse Caravan Park.  Why would you want to leave early?

Day 14
Friday 11 May 2018
Caiguna Roadhouse to Harms Lake Camp

Up betimes but last to leave again!

Why others had deserted this veritable oasis in the Nullarbor is a mystery.

Frankly, the Prop is beginning to favour the incontinence theory. How else can it be that some people are up have had breakfast (one assumes - most unsafe to operate machinery on an empty stomach) and are on their way at 6.00 am?

Said farewell to Caiguna Roadhouse where, the Prop had enjoyed a surprisingly good “Fisherman’s Basket” and a glass of near-freezing sauv blanc the night before. Caiguna is not exactly a seaside fishing village, so the sight of seafood on the menu was too much to resist. The Prop thought that it would be a lot worse (and therefore, amusing) than it was.  As for the near-freezing wine, they serve all beverages here at the same temperature at which they serve their beer - ice cold.  This means that you can’t actually taste what you are drinking. On reflection, probably a good thing.

Headed "straight" for Harms Lake Camp.

The 90 Mile Straight - just about drove us round the bend!

The Nullarbor is a plain of contradictions! Seafood served at an outback roadhouse but no lake at a place called “Harms Lake”. In fact, not even any water of any kind. This, in stark contrast with Hobart which, as the Prop’s satellite dish revealed, was swamped with over 100 mm of rain overnight.

Harms Lake Campground - dry as a bone

Still, it was a very nice “free” camping spot with lots of room well away from the highway (and the sound of passing road trains in the night)  

Also, surprisingly little used toilet paper lying about.  A pleasant change!     

Day 15
Saturday 12 May 2018
Harms Lake Camp to Salmon Gums

Up betimes and the last of five overnight campers to leave.

Drove about 150 klms to Norseman at which place one can either turn south and head towards Esperance on the coast or turn north and head inland to Kalgoorlie.  Decisions , decisions.

The Cane Toad on autopilot - stopped outside the Norseman Hotel

Someone once said that when you come to a fork in the road, you should take it.  

So, we did!  And ended up in a little town with a name that implies a serious oral health problem; “Salmon Gums” (e.g., “No wonder he has no teeth - he got Salmon Gums when he was a kid and they all fell out.”)

The Salmon Gums Hotel - centrally located in the CBD

Salmon Gums is a town with a population of about 40. Two of them live in, and run, the local pub and most of the rest of them seem to live in the caravan park which is thoughtfully located adjacent to the railway line used to carry iron ore from Norseman to Esperance in 160-wagon trains both day and night.   

Day 16

Sunday 13 May 2018

Salmon Gums to Lucky Bay via Esperance

Up betimes and astonishingly, NOT the last to leave.  

As a matter of fact the Prop believes that only us and the couple on the site next to us left Salmon Gums that day.  Everyone else stayed!  

Still as the couple next door left before we did and no-one else left after us, I guess it could be said that we were, in fact, again, the last to leave!

Salmon Gums Community Caravan Park

Just like the Hotel California, you can check out any time you like...

Prior to departure Mrs P was presented by the management with a little posy of chrysanthemum and mint for Mother’s Day.  A delghtful but perhaps risky gesture made on the (happily correct) assumption that Mrs P was indeed a mother.  

Arrived in the very pleasant town of Esperance about mid-morning.

Mrs P visited the local Turkish bakery to buy some bread only to discover that no bread was baked there on the weekend but that, on the bright side, kebabs were freely available 7 days a week!

Esperance: No bread, pleasant but hopeless

Visited the excellent Esperance “black water” dump site and…well…dumped some “black water” and then, on the recommendation of Mrs P’s matron of honour, made our way to “Lucky Bay” in the Cape Le Grande National Park about 50 klms east of Esperance.

Perfick!!

Lucky Bay - very nice indeed!

Decided one day was not enough so we booked in for two.

A very pleasant 26 degrees and a beautiful beach with crystal clear water, so we decided to take a dip in the Southern Ocean.  

Never let it be said that Tasmania has the coldest seawater in Australia.  In the Prop’s admittedly limited experience only the frigid waters of Noriel Park at Albury in NSW which are drawn from the very bottom of the Hume Weir, can compare to the temperature of the water at Lucky Bay.  In fact, the Prop would go so fas as to say that the water at Lucky Bay was even colder that that sauv blanc the Prop was served at the Caiguna Roadhouse two nights before.

Recent arrivals at Lucky Bay seen here protesting about the water temperature

NB: Some readers may think that “Lucky Bay” is so called as a result of a “naming-rights” sponsorship deal between WA Inc and the proprietors of the Tasmanian outdoor and sporting goods stores “Allgoods”.  This is not so. In fact Lucky Bay was so named by Matthew Flinders who, in 1802 anchored here during his circumnavigation of the continent.  

Maybe the water wasn’t so cold then?

          

Day 17
Monday 14 May 2018
Lucky Bay

Up betimes to watch others departing… because we weren’t going anywhere!

Decided to take the “easy walking” track from Lucky Bay to Thistle Cove.

Thistle

Thistle Cove

Not a thistle

A New Holland Honyeater - facing extinction on account of WA quarantine regulations (see Day 13 above) 

Now the word “easy” is a relative term. 

What was “easy” when the Prop was 20 years old may not necessarily be “easy” in more recent times.  And so it was with the the Lucky Bay to Thistle Cove track.  Like the curate’s egg, it was easy in parts.

The Curate's Egg - hard boiled

In other parts it was not easy but it was worthwhile.  Splendid scenery that is strikingly reminiscent of the Freycinet National Park in Tasmania. 

Cape Le Grande or Freycinet? Je ne sais qua!  

Talk about taking coals to Newcastle!

Enough cliches for one day!

    

ACROSS THE NULLARBOR BUYING CANE TOADS - A Most Importunate Journey

Day 10, 7 May 2018

A Lay Day in Ceduna

Up betimes - then back to bed  - because today, we go nowhere!

It is a "lay-day".

When it was suggested to former president of the TRU Management Committee, Bernard Hill, that the 1976 season roster should include one or more "lay days" he responded: "What do you mean? A day for fucking?"

It would not be appropriate, in a family-oriented forum like this one, for the Prop to say anything more than that the day was spent stocking up with essential supplies for the dash across the Nullarbor and spending rather longer than was reasonable trying to get the satellite receiver and accompanying dish talking to each other so that the Prop could travel to the uttermost parts of the Earth and continue to watch Peter Googa read the ABC news.

Also time for a pleasant stroll through the sand dunes behind Shelly Beach.

The Cane Toad at rest amid the palms of the Shelly Beach Caravan Park, Ceduna, S.A.   

Day 11,  8 May 2018

Ceduna to Nullarbor Roadhouse

Up betimes in order to hit the "frog and toad" (as it were) for Ceduna.

A little way down the track, at Penong we discovered "the Big Windmill".

To be fair, it is not billed as THE big windmill, just as "the biggest windmill in Australia".

It may be found at the Penong Windmill Museum which, so far as the Prop can tell, is a sort of park furnished with about twenty or so different windmills of varying sizes but no public conveniences.

The Comet Windmill - and friends  

Not thirty kilometres from Penong is Bookabie, home of the Big Wombat.  Unfortunately, while looking out for the Big Wombat, the Prop missed the turn-off to Bookabie and hence, the Big Wombat itself.  maybe we will check it out on the way back?

The Big Wombat of Bookabie - easily missed

Next, something really, really big!

The Great Australian Bight!!  Easily the biggest bight in Australia.

The Big Bight

Reached the Nullarbor Roadhouse at the height of the noonday sun - assuming that noon is at 1.30 pm in these parts.  No water on tap but you can have a shower for $1.00 and a beer for $7.50.

Perfick!

The Nullarbor Roadhouse Caravan Park - no greenkeeper required. 

Tomorrow: We travel to the Eastern University of California, Los Angeles - EUCLA

EUCLA or Ceduna TAFE - a tough choice

ACROSS THE NULLARBOR BY CAIN TOWED - A Most Improbable Journey

Day 3.75, 29 April 2018 

Station Pier to Braybrook

The SS Axolotyl under full steam - or one very much like her

The SS Axolotyl arrived at Station Pier in Melbourne at precisely 7.00 pm as advertised.  It was pitch dark and with only a late-model GPS to guide us, we set out - not without trepidation - for the Melbourne Discovery Holiday Park and other parts unknown.

Only one wrong turn and there we were by 8.00 pm eating deep fried street food from an in-park food vending van!

Very nice, but not quite perfick!

Day 4,  30 April 2018 

Melbourne to Lake Fyans

Up betimes (as Samuel Pepys would say) to look about the "Melbourne Discovery Holiday Park" at Braybrook.  It is immediately apparent that many others have also "discovered" this little bit of tourist infrastructure well before the Prop and Mrs P.

The joint is as full as a fat girl's sock and bigger than God's underpants!

Uneventful drive out of the metropolis towards Halls Gap via Ballarat.

228 km later and just short of Halls Gap in the shadows of the Grampians, we spy a sign reading "Lake Fyans Holiday Park".

Well reviewed on Wiki Camps (the holiday park, not us) and feeling essurient (us, not the holiday park) we decide to give it a shot.

Perfick!

Lake Fyans with the Grampians in the background

Day 5, 1 May 2018 

Lake Fyans to Halls Gap and Back Again

Up betimes (if 8.00 am is "betimes"") to attend to a spot of professional business and then off to conquer the mighty Grampians!

"Conquer"may be too large a word in this context, the conquest consisting of a 2 hour return walk/climb/struggle to "The Pinnacle Lookout" a remote but astonishingly popular lookout at the top of the Grampians.

The View from the Pinnacle 

The Prop hoped that once there he might commune with nature for a moment or two.  Instead he was obliged to commune with a large and rather rowdy group of schoolchildren!  Not at all the same thing!

Victorian school kiddies eager to commune with the Prop

Still the views were good and the exercise no doubt did wonders for the Props's cardio-vascular system.

A good view

One note of minor embarrassment: The Prop and Mrs P appeared to be the only walkers above school age who were not equipped with a pair of stylish aluminium rambling sticks. Now on the shopping list!

Doesn't pay to look like an amateur but the Prop draws the line at wearing lycra.

Off west tomorrow...

Day 6, 2 May 2018
"Wont'You Take Me To Funkytown Bordertown"

Up betimes and on the road west.

Passing through Dadswells Bridge the Prop almost missed the most remarkable piece of tourist infrastructure that the northern Grampians has to offer - the Giant Koala cafe!  In truth, with a little more luck, the Prop might have missed it altogether.

Not sure about all these "big" tourist things in Australia.  They may be something of a paradox - a bit like the "mullet" hairstyle.  

One can never be quite sure whether the wearer of a mullet (or the proprietor of a "big" tourist attraction) is serious and really likes the thing OR is quietly taking the piss.  This means that one never knows whether one is laughing AT the mullet-wearer or WITH the mullet-wearer. 

More concerning is the possibility that the mullet-wearer is laughing AT you while you are laughing at/with the mullet-wearer because he knew all along that you would!

The Giant Koala of Dadswells Bridge - probably has a mullet!  

Due to South Australian quarantine restrictions, the Prop and Mrs P were obliged to lunch on several apples and a tomato or two to save them from the bin at the border.  Most heartbreaking of all, the Prop had to dispose of half a dozen home-grown capsicums - the first he has ever managed to successfully cultivate despite numerous attempts.

Arrived at Funkytown  Bordertown by 2.00 pm to a very pleasant 26 degrees.

It is called "Bordertown" because it is close to the border.

It is not called Funkytown because, although it is a pleasant enough little town, being as generous as one can, its lacks a little in the "funk" department.

Bordertown SA, virtually funk-free

Day 7, 3 May 2018

Funkytown to Kapunda

Up betimes on account of a power blackout!

After a night of boisterous weather conditions the Prop awoke to find no mains electricity was making its way to the Cane Toad.  Perhaps the South Australian grid (Tesla battery and all) had failed again?

Not so!  Upon investigation it appeared that water had leaked between the side of the Cane Toad and the electrical input socket causing what we amateur "sparkies" refer to as a"short".

A bit of fiddling and a bit of insulation tape and all good...we hope....

Heading in a general north-westerly direction we passed through Keith - don't know his other name - but were unable to locate what is billed as the second best attraction in that location: "The Land Rover on a Pole".  At first the Prop thought that this might be a memorial to a Polish immigrant unfortunately run over by a 4WD. Turns out that someone thought it was a good idea to weld an old jeep to the top of a big pipe and stick it in a park.

The second best attraction in Keith

Saw a nice piece of silo art in Coonalpyn.

Silo Art - the only attraction in Coonalpyn

Drove through Eden Valley, the Barossa Valley including Nurioopta just so we could say "Nurioopta" several times before we finally arrived in "Kapunda".  

As many readers will know, this charming little town, formerly known as Coppertown has recently been re-named in honour of the Prop's close personal friend, Mr Ronaldo Kapunda, the famous naturist.  The town ordinarily has an ideal climate for naturists, both young and old, but today was a rare exception. It was as cold as Liaweenee and everyone in town had their full kit on - including the Prop and Mrs P.

Ronaldo Kapunda pictured on a warm day

Tomorrow: The Prop susses out "the Big Miner" - or should that be the Major Miner?

Day 8, 4 May 2018

Kapunda to Woolundunga

Up betimes after yet another night of boisterous weather but the Cane Toad was tight and men did their duty.

First stop, "Map Kernouw".  According to the "interpretation infrastucture" (i.e. signs) "Map Kernouw" means "son of Cornwall" in the Cornish dialect.  Turns out Kapunda (formerly "Coppertown") had the first working mine in Australia.  It was staffed by men from Cornwall who wore stiff leather hats with wax candles stuck to them with lumps of clay so they could see underground.  This was, in 1840, what we would now call "cutting edge technology".  

In truth it was just a fire hazard!

Anyway, lots of little Cornish miners came to South Australia and brought their hats, candles and pasties with them and helped to make this country great: That's  more or less what the "interpretation infrastucture" says.

"Map Kernouw" a major miner in Kapunda

Farewell Kapunda - you have done Ronaldo proud!

Ronaldo Kapunda - as proud as buggery

Back in the saddle of the Cane Toad inwe made for Port Augusta.  However disappointing (not to say somewhat disturbing) reviews on the only two Cane Toad Parks in Port Augusta forced a rethink.  At length, Mrs P found a very nice little establishment called "Woolundunga"  As well as servicing Cane Toads (and their owners) Woolundunga produces South African sheep which eat saltbush and make very nice saltbush-flavoured meat.

Woolundunga also has a very fine collection of stromatolites.  Eager to view them (despite not knowing what a stromatolite is or what one looks like) the Prop and Mrs P set off on a hand-drawn-map bushwalk to the site of said stromatolites.  

About an hour later we arrived at a location which may or may not have been rich in stromatolites.  It was unarguably rich in pieces of rock.  Bereft and bewildered we returned to camp afraid someone might ask us to describe the stromatolites that we had seen. So, we repaired to the Cane Toad for the night to "google" images of stromatolites in the hope that we might find something that looked like something that we had seen earlier. Not sure that we did!

Could this be a stromatolite? Who knows?

We did see some nice birds and a nice sunset though.

Fincus Stromatolitus - or the Common Stromatolite Finch - very common in Woolundunga 

A nice sunset

Tomorrow: The Nullarbor beckons... 

Day 8, 5 May 2018

Woolundunga to Wudinna

Up betimes to sally forth to the outback...well quite close to the outback at any rate.

Lots of steering the Cane Toad in a straight line today.

Paid a visit to Kimba (sic) to appreciate more silo art.  Who knew four years ago that "silo art" was even a thing?

Silo Art in Kimba - but not a white lion in sight!

However, often the oldies are the real goodies.  In the shadows of the tarted-up Kimba silos stands - and has stood since a time whereof the mind of man runneth not to the contrary - THE BIG GALAH.
The Big G may be weathered and faded but still, like a colossus he bestrides the Eyre Highway like a...well...galah! (The use of the word bestrides is not strictly accurate as, in fact, all of the Big G is on the southern side of the Eyre Highway.  However, so imposing is the Big G that he seems to bestride the very continent itself! [Readers will excuse this hyperbolic flourish])

The Big Galah - but is it art?

Waving a fond farewell to Kimba and the Big G, the Prop and Mrs P moved on to Wudinna.
Uninstructed the Prop would have pronounced the name of this place Wuh-Dinna.  However, not being up with the Anglicisation of Aboriginal words, he was not to know that the locals call it Woodener. (as in "His smile was wooden, hers was woodener, but mine was the woodenest")

Wudinna also has a "big thing" called the "Australian Farmer" it is carved from the local red granite and is very impressive.  It is also very universal in the sense that it does not seek to imitate the appearance of any particular individual.  In fact, it doesn't even look like any individual, let alone a farmer.  It doesn't even have a hat!  But apparently it is "art" so that doesn't matter.   

The "Australian Farmer" - a fine example of art.   

Tomorrow : To the Very Edge of the Nullabor - Ceduna here we come! 

"ACROSS THE NULLARBOR BY CANE TOAD" - A Most Improbable Journey

The Prop is back!

Despite failing so miserably to make good on his representations concerning more timely posts from the journey from "Istanbul to Inverness", undeterred and undaunted the Prop is having yet another crack at the Blogging caper.

For those who may be interested to know what happened after Chios (to be frank, no-one has has expressed the slighest interest in knowing, let alone disappointment in not knowing) the Prop and Mrs P moved on to Ikaria then Mykonos then Naxos, Koufonosia and Iraklia before going to Athens, Thessaloniki and then Belgrade.

From Belgrade to Bar on Tito's train then Kotor, Dubrovnik, Korcula, Hvar and Split. 

From Split by overnight ferry to Ancona and then by train to Bellano on the shores of Lake Como for a week off. Time to write the immediately preceding post then no further blogs - not a sausage!

From Bellano to Barcelona via Milan then to Madrid, San Sebastian (Donostia), Hendaye, Paris, London by Eurostar then to the "Stylotel" Paddington (world's smallest hotel rooms). 

Then Heathrow Express to Heathrow Airport to pick up a rental car. Four hour wait. Then drive to Woodstock near Oxford. Take up residence in curious16th century dwelling (not Blenheim Palace) with P Kimber et al.  

Then watched quite a lot of rugby live (Cardiff, Cardiff, Leeds, Twickenham and Twickenham) and on the telly at the Woodstock Social Club (excellent Sunday  roasts).

After the rugby, quick trip around "the North" and Scotland:  Knaresborough, Bishops Stortford (ancient family seat of the Prop), Norwich, Lincoln, York, Knaresborough, Whitby, Bamburgh Castle, Berwick-upon-Tweed (not quite Scotland), Lundin Links, Ballater, Dundee, Aberdeen, Cullen, Inverness (yes, Inver- bloody- ness, we made it!), Kinlochbervie, John O' Groats, Skye, Fort Wiiliam, Loch Lomond, Glasgow, Ambleside, Daventry, Hobart.

If that were not enough, the Prop - much encouraged by Mrs P - has determined to cross the Nullarbor Plain by cane toad. (In fact in a car and self-contained caravan compete with satellite telly. The "cane toad"  thing is a shameless rip-off of the second most famous of the "Ripping Yarns" and sounds much more exotic, even interesting).

Day 1,  27 April 2018 

At "The Sands"

Sunset on the Hazards

Spent the day at "the Sands" preparing the "Cane Toad" for the arduous journey ahead.
Fiddled with a grease nipple or two but otherwise no news of a salacious, lewd or even interesting nature to report.

The "Cane Toad"

Day 2,  28 April 2018

The Sands to Devonport

A bit more fiddling and a surprise visit from Lady Luck (and her husband, Bob) then time to set off.

Not so!! Flat battery in the Cane Toad!!!

Get the jump-starter - another flat battery!!!

Get the "Old Crocodile" and jumper leads.  

Success!!!

Off we go...

The Old Crocodile

Day 3, 29 April 2018 

Devonport to Melbourne by Axolotyl

Up at sparrow-fart to board the Axolotyl for a day crossing to Melbourne.

The Prop had thought about going the other way but in the end settled for crossing Bass Strait.

Due to a happy administrative error the Prop booked a de luxe cabin for a daylight crossing!

The De Luxe Cabin

Expensive? Yes.

Silly? Well, not so. Very relaxing day lying on a bed and watching telly.

Perfick!

The SS Axolotyl

That's us - top window on the left (port side)