Category: Turning 70 in Broome

Monday 21 – Friday 25 October 2019

 It seems that south of Perth, everything ends in UP.  Yallingup, Cowaramup, Miamup, Wilyabrup, Quininup, Kudardup, Muradup, Kojonup, Gnowangerup, Tambellup, Woogenellup…..  Don’t get me started up.

But before we can leave Perth we had to wash our shoes, in an attempt to get rid of some of the Cape Leveque red sand.

Whether they will ever actually be truly clean again is a toss up.

Graham has kindly lent us his car to drive to Margaret River.  We are staying in a delightful little studio in….wait for it…..

A gorgeous beach, next to  Prevelly which is the site of the famous Margaret River Pro Surfing Carnival, for which hundreds turn up every year.

That’s our local breakfast café in the distance, where the food is good enough to eat up.  Coffee is good too.

At breakfast, we watch two men loading a jet ski into the sea

And then load up a surfboard onto said ski.  Off they go, way out to sea.  To chase up the Bombie.  Anyone who has read Tim Winton’s Breath will know that the Bombie is an awe inspiring wave out in the open ocean which moves like a freight train at full speed.  We assume the men take themselves out on the jet ski and transfer to the board to ride the bombie.  We lost sight of them, they went so far out but hopefully they got up on the big wave.

Look at this beach.

Look at those waves.  Aren’t they swell?

Cherrie never gets fed up watching the surf

Surf’s up

As well as getting worked up about the beautiful beaches, we hit the road in search of other Margaret River sites.  Which includes my favourite winery, Vasse Felix. A Holmes a Court venture

We decide not to eat there but to drive up the road to Cullen Wines.  Vanya Cullen recently won Winemaker of the Year and as well as great wines, we are brushed up on what a nice restaurant is there.

Which is booked up for a private function.

So, we move onward and upward to Hay Shed Hill.  Where we wait an hour.  But we don’t beat ourselves up about it because a late lunch means no dinner.

We drive south.  Past an intriguing house

Clearly that architect got quite worked up

We also brush up on some public art, which frankly didn’t moove us

We reach Cape Leeuwin, the southern most part of mainland Australia.

Cape to Cape.  Leveque to Leeuwin.

Cape Leeuwin is where two oceans meet

Rough seas and lots of rocks no doubt contributed to the many shipwrecks prior to the lighthouse going up

A gale has blown up

And the seas are up

Clearly this is not an uncommon event, as life buoys are strewn around, in the most inaccessible and impractical of places

I think they lost him

Cherrie is in need of no assistance

To provide water to the original inhabitants of the  lighthouse and associated buildings, a waterwheel was built

And amazingly the waterwheel has completely calcified up

Clearly water is now delivered using more modern means.  Until Angus Taylor hears about it.

We watch the sun go down at Prevelly Beach

As opposed to up

And we marvel at the wildflowers which pop up in the coastal heath

And the cock ups

Which fly up

On Thursday we meet up again with Garry and Di, who we haven’t seen since Sunday.  They have been staying with Garry’s brother near Dunsborough and last night were with Ian Parmenter, the noted food, wine and travel writer who presented the ABC TV series Consuming Passions for many years.  We all show up for breakfast, after which Ian has arranged for us to have a tour of the recently opened Margaret River Cultural Centre.

Nice centre but not a lot happening

Looks like Tranby College Cadets could do with a bit of support too

From the lookout high over Gnarabup beach we watch a new surf sport called “foiling”.  A sort of hybrid of surfing and hydrofoil technology.  A long fin, blade really, on bottom of the board with wings at its base means the foil surfers literally glide above the water surface.

After a while he got fed up

We drove down to the beach and spoke to the surfer, sorry foiler.  He explained that the difference between surfing and foiling is that to surf one moves from side to side and to foil one moves from front to back.  He needs to brush up on his skills when he mounts each board.  Amazing to watch foiling because they can actually foil out to sea as well as into the shore, by moving back and forward on the board (or foil).

Early tomorrow, Friday, we drive back to Perth and board the plane for the flight home.  The holiday, the birthday celebrations (Garry says they are the longest 70^th birthday celebrations he’s ever known) are over.  Time to ease up.

Until next time…..Bottoms up!

Monday 14 – Sunday 20 October

And, the winner of the strongest constitution amongst us is….drum roll…..Diane Craig (McDonald).  Di did not succumb to Noro Virus.  She is a true star.  Albeit with red raw hands from washing them every few minutes.  It saved her, though, from the dreaded sickness that has felled the rest of us.

We are all well now though, and have been for a week.

Sunday night we all sat at the dinner table together and ate the same thing.  First time this holiday.  Up until now some have had nothing, boiled rice or chicken soup.  Tonight we all tuck into the Threadfin Salmon from yesterday’s fishing trip by Garry.  It is absolutely delicious, accompanied by fabulous salads made by Di.  How lucky we are to be in the company of great cooks.

On Monday, we arise at 4.45am and drive to Cable Beach to witness the moonset, which the breakfast chef at the Sunrise Bar had recommended yesterday.  He said it was a rare occurrence to see it and that we should take the opportunity.  We do, that is all but Graham who chooses sleep over the moon.  What a wise man he is.

So the five of  wait.

The photographer doesn’t waste a minute

We continue to wait

Garry has cut up fruit for us and packed it in little lunch boxes, so we sit on the bench like a bunch of kindergarten kids, eating our fruit, facing gorgeous Cable Beach and wait to witness this moon set

Is this it?

No it’s a oil rig, way out to sea

Here comes the moon

 

Just as we see it beginning to set

The clouds roll in and all is lost

Before leaving Cable Beach we pay homage to its saviour, Lord McAlpine, who revived Broome in the 80s and who built the Cable Beach Club

We drive back home for breakfast and to pack up the house.  And pack up the 4WD for our adventure north.

It takes us 3 ½ hours to drive the 230km north to Kooljaman at Cape Leveque, on the very tip of the Dampier Peninsula.  The road is sealed for perhaps 1/3 of the way, and then we hit the dirt.  Or rather sand.  This is why it’s 4WD drive only

There are apparently a lot of road works in these parts.  With a small road crew.  No traffic to speak of but at least there are employment opportunities

We turn off on the road to Kooljaman.  This tests our 4WD skills.

We each settle into our glamping tents, at the foot of the lighthouse

with wonderful views of Eastern Beach.

Too hard to resist, we swim here at least twice every day.  The tides on this peninsula are the most extreme in the world.  The lowest of lows and the highest of highs.  So, our swim times are dictated by the tides.  One of us has to be helped over the rough ground

This afternoon we drive the 12km to Cygnet Bay, on the other side of this narrow peninsula.  We board a boat.  An amphibian no less.

And we are driven overland to the water, whereupon this vehicle immediately becomes a boat and we undertake the Waterfall Reef tour.  These are waterfalls in the ocean, a tidal phenomenon due to the aforementioned huge outgoing tides.

For me to board a boat is in itself a phenomenon.  I have suffered sea (and air) sickness all my life and just last year I was introduced to the Relief Band by my friend Ruth Goodsir.  This is a wonderful contraption worn on the wrist which issues a short pulse to the median nerve which in turn goes to the brain to quell motion sickness.  It is a wonder.  Garry wears one too now and this has enabled us both to get on this boat.  Neither of us suffer from a hint of sickness.  Thank you Ruthie!

We are guided by a most charismatic Bardi Jawi man, Badi, born on the peninsula, who is clearly passionate about his part of the world.

The views from the boat are wonderous

And the tides really have to be seen to be believed

There is a reef in the middle of it all.  An algae reef 3km in length.  Over which the tides flow with a vengeance

It was a great boat ride and we were all quite invigorated by it.

We return to shore in time to buy a drink from the Lunar Bar at Cygnet Bay and make our way to the lookout to observe Staircase to the Moon

We followed that with dinner in the local restaurant, well bistro really, served by a waitress who was clearly high on something, but a surprisingly good buffet.

Back to our tents, a good finish to a long day.

The following day, Tuesday, we head back to Cygnet Bay and a tour of the Pearl Farm.  An impressive, family run business which discovered the art of culturing a pearl in the early 50s.  Second only to Mikimoto.  This has been a successful partnership between white man and black man since inception and is a real eye opener.

We see the large pearl shells

And observe a pearl extracted from the shell

That nasty looking black/grey stuff around the pearl is known as the mantle.   This is discarded, except by the local Aboriginals who consider it a source of magical powers and therefore eat it.  We were offered it but of course all demurred, shaking our heads. Except Garry, being Garry, said he’d like to try it.  And try it he did

The remainder of the group held our breath.  Garry courageously swallowed.  “Very salty” he said.  And threw the rest away.

The magical powers of the mantle clearly don’t extend to promotion of hair growth.

The pearl grows in the abductor muscle, which is served as pearl meat, a real delicacy

After learning more about the seeding, harvesting and grading of pearls we understand why they are so valuable.  It’s a long and highly manual process.

We leave Cygnet Bay and head to One Arm Point, home to the Ardiyooloon community of the Bardi Jawi people  Their entire world revolves around the sea

and what it produces….turtles, dugong and fish for eating and the Trochus sell which is polished, cut and carved for jewellery and decorations, for sale.

We visited what they call the Hatchery, all operated by the locals, which is really more like an aquarium.

However, it does engage us

Garry, being Garry, hand feeds the barramundi

We learn some valuable skills

And find the way to the three toilets

Back to the camp for sandwich lunch and a much needed rest.  This humidity is a killer.  Thank heavens for that beach.  Once the tide is in.

Later today neighbours move into a neighbouring tent.  They cause quite a kerfuffle with their lack of 4WD drive skills and the resulting flying sand.  We might have taken a photo of this amusing scene, save for the vocal, and hand language (involving her middle finger) of the family matriarch, which made even my broad minded hair curl.

A BBQ dinner and another early night.

On Wednesday, Watto and Graham head off on a day long tour with a local elder, who takes them across the beaches and through the bush and talks about their culture, plants, fishing, history.

A good part of the day is apparently spent pushing several of the vehicles out of the sand where they have become bogged, but Brian is clearly adept at producing the tow rope when necessary.  All with good humour.  They report a wonderful day.

Meanwhile, Garry, Di, Cherrie and myself have opted for a flight over the Buccaneer Archipelago.  There is no way I would have climbed into a light plane before I had the Relief Band (thanks again Ruth) but I survive the flight, even if I don’t absolutely love it.  This is what we flew in

Complete with Kimberley air conditioning

The pilot gives us a safety induction, which of course includes opening the exit door in case of emergency.  This duty will fall to Di, who sits in that seat.  We know we are in good hands.

Music is played by the young pilot, presumably designed to calm those of us who are nervous, and he matches it to the vintage of the plane. Which is much the same vintage as us.

We fly over our camp (at the base of the lighthouse)

And the amazing islands which make up the archipelago

We see the horizontal falls, one of the most amazing natural features in the world.  Giant tidal waterfalls where the water travels horizontally.  180,000 litres per second passes through.  It’s an incredible sight

We fly over Cockatoo Island, thoughtfully mined for many years by BHP before they abandoned the project in 1984.

While BHP was still mining, Alan Bond developed a resort on the island, creating an exclusive haven for the wealthy.  Dock your yacht on the archipelago and relax in the infinity pool 100 metres above sea level.

Is it surprising that this Bond project failed?

After we landed, and only then, did Di fess up that while taxi-ing along the dirt runway for take off she felt something on her leg.  On investigation it was revealed that it was the door handle which had fallen off.  The handle to the emergency door.  The only handle.

Good on you Di, for not panicking us earlier.

Good on you pilot, for ensuring we didn’t need the emergency exit.

The pilot assured us that the hander had never fallen off before.

He made his way to the Kooljaman Store for Blu Tack

Ironically we have, in our archives, a photo of Di holding the door handle to their cabin on the boat we shared on the Canal du Midi in France some years ago.  What is it about Di and door handles?  Perhaps next time we should give Cherrie the exit door seat.

Tonight we eat at the restaurant attached to Kooljaman.  It was a fabulous meal, all whipped up by the only person in the kitchen, the woman who had also whipped up breakfast and lunch.  Served by the young Czech woman who had been on reception all day and by the manager who had been managing all day.  Hard work.

It’s now Thursday, time to check out of Kooljaman and return to Broome, and to Perth this evening.  The same long drive, broken by a side trip to Beagle Bay.  There’s not much at Beagle Bay, save a church and a general store with a most informative notice board outside.

Back in Broome we indulge in a delicious lunch at Cable Beach Club.

In the car park we witness a feat of modern air conditioning.  It used to get hot in the back seat

It’s fearfully humid so we get to the airport about 2 hours before departure to take advantage of the cool environment.  The back seat of that car might have been a better choice

By 10pm we have landed in Perth.

Friday in Perth brings lunch with Cherrie’s old friends, Jill and Andrew, at the swish WA University Club.  Lovely to catch up with them over a very tasty tempura fish.

Then Kings Park, to catch the end of the wild flowers in their spring display garden

Just to slow down the sobering up process, we travelling troupe of six meet up for sunset drinks at Mends St Jetty in South Perth followed by a fine dinner at an Italian dinner

Yesterday, Saturday, was another glorious spring day, with temperatures in the low 30s.  So we from the eastern states take to Rottnest Island.  Cherrie has wanted to take me to Rottnest for years, but I couldn’t cope with the water journey.  But due to the wonders of the Relief Band we make it.  All hail to you, Ruth.

We take a bus ride right around the island, have lunch and meet the ubiquitous quokka – mother and child.

Home again, and Watto has cooked up a storm.  Duck curry, chicken massaman, fabulous bean sprout and corn salad, stir fried greens and rice.  We six are joined by the Taylor son, Andrew and his wife Saran.  A lovely evening all round.

Today I wake up a septuagenarian.  Whodathoughtit?  I’m feeling pretty good though.  It must be true that 70 is the new 50.

Lunch at the Shore House at Swanbourne Beach.  We six happy muskateers with the Taylor daughter Prudence.

I am so blessed to have such dear friends.

Tomorrow, Margaret River

Friday 11 October

Di has likened this holiday to an Agatha Christie thriller.  Who will emerge from their bedroom today?  We sight Graham briefly.  Garry is feeling better.  Watto is absent all day.  Di has still not shown any symptoms of Noro Virus and we are all crossing fingers and toes that she stays that way.  None are more crossed than her own digits.

Cherrie and I walk along Cable Beach

And marvel at the colours of the sea

We spy a sea biscuit

And two different sorts of jellyfish

Always in the company of Jonathan Livingston

We have another glorious swim and sight the always alluring Sturt Desert Pea on the way home

Garry is feeling better by dinner time so the four of us enjoy another BBQ dinner.  The Taylors are still in the sick bay.

Very little grog partaken so far on this holiday.  I am looking to amend that oversight very soon

Saturday 12 October

Garry, whose fishing tentacles appear to reach everywhere, has been collected at 6 this morning for a fishing trip.  Sean and Rubi launch their boat at Town Beach and the three of them spent the day on Roebuck Bay.

The remainder of the party all appear for breakfast.  Hallelujah.  Albeit dry toast and black tea for some, Watto and Graham are feeling fragile but human.  We may be on the way to a group holiday at last.  With some laughs, rather than just gags.

A quiet day, until the fisherman returns mid-afternoon.  Garry, being Garry, neglected to pack his fishing pants and leg covering is essential when spending a day on a boat in this heat.  So Garry, being Garry, went fishing in his pyjama pants.  I mean, who wouldn’t?

Thoughtfully, he catches a Blue Salmon, to go with said PJs

They also snare a Threadfin Salmon, a large part of which we are consuming tomorrow evening, when the fillet has been delivered.

Di, Cherrie and I head off to the Art Gallery Cherrie has identified, with a plan to meet the others at Cable Beach before sunset for a stroll along the sand.  The art gallery (note lack of capitals) is neither a gallery nor does it display anything vaguely attractive to us.  This is curious, since it is in a room of 10 square meters off the reception area of a one-star motel called Broome Time.  After perusing the ‘art’ for nearly 4 minutes we retire to the Sunset Bar at the Cable Beach Club and await word from our friends that they have arrived for our group constitutional.

Due to lack of mobile reception the word doesn’t get to us, so they walk and we stay put and observe another beautiful sunset over the ocean.

To mash the words of The Beetles, “There Goes The Sun”

Gary, Chris (aka Watto) and Graham walk beside the camels

and observe a naturist.  Or pervert.  Likely the latter.  Is that a bag of lollies?

No frontal shots.  This is a family blog.

For only the second time this holiday, the six of us sit down to dinner together.  Scrambled eggs for those most recently recovered and another BBQ and spectacular salads for us.

Di is still standing.

Sunday 13 October

Watto reports she is hungry.  Hallelujah again.  The six of us head off to the Sunset Bar at Cable Beach for breakfast, and we tuck in like the gourmands we’re not.  It is such a relief for me to see everyone eat well.  I have been racked with guilt in the knowledge that I have infected everyone with this wretched virus.  How many other train passengers have spread it I wonder?  Hundreds no doubt.

After an indulgent breakfast we stroll along the beach

The seagulls are everywhere, and the Whistling Kites glide overhead

With Watto, friends for more than 40 years.

This afternoon we will return the two small cars we have had and pick up a large 4WD.  Tomorrow we head north to Cape Leveque, on the very northern tip of the Dampier Peninsula.  We are staying in tents on native title land at Kooljaman,  a remote wilderness camp owned and run by the Indigenous Bardi Jawi people.  Another trouble free adventure to look forward to.  I am not necessarily expecting to blog from Cape Leveque, as I suspect there is no reception. I’ll try to report in before I become a septuagenarian, though.

And still there is one.  Di stands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday 9 October

Garry is up this morning and looking surprisingly sprightly.  He has bounced back well.

Cherrie and I go for an early morning walk.

We pass the local mechanic

I’m intrigued to know how you can leave without picking up your butt

We keep our eyes down in some areas

And steer clear of others

The boab trees are huge, and quite wonderful

And the mangos are just ripening

Later, we six take a leisurely walk through town, going our separate ways.  It’s hot and steamy but the pearl shops are very nicely air conditioned.  And the wallets are tightly closed.

We return home for lunch and a swim in the pool.  Garry is particularly enjoying his swim and relaxing in the rhythm of his strokes.  Until he realises both hearing aids are in.  Fortunately he’s brought his old, spare, ones with him.

Buoyed by all of us being well, we head off to Cable Beach for sunset drinks and dinner at the nice looking restaurant on the beach.  Never judge a book by it’s cover they say.

The sunset was spectacular though

 

The dinner was less so.  Very ordinary food, but lovely company.

Then Watto started to feel unwell.  We were ready to go home and that’s what we did.

Thursday 10 October

Awoke early to a message from Watto that she and Graham have both been struck down by the Great Southern Rail lurgy and could we please get them some lemonade and Gastrolyte, which of course we do.   Garry is unwell again too.

After cheering Di up by referring to her as ‘the sitting duck’ Cherrie and I drive to the Broome Port and walk along the pier.  It’s very pretty country here and the water is the most magnificent azure colour.

We have a gorgeous swim at Cable Beach where the water is warm (26 degrees) and very salty.  It really is a most beautiful beach, and not a snake in sight.  Returning home mid-morning,  the Taylor’s have not been sighted, poor things, Garry is bed so it’s just Cherrie, me and the sitting duck relaxing at home.

When everyone is better we may go for a camel ride.

What could possibly go wrong?

Sunday 6 October

A very quiet day in the comfort of Watto and Graham’s home.  A small bowl of white rice for me, just as we do for the dog when she is sick, and a piece of toast for Cherrie.  We keep them down.  This is progress.  Garry and Di land in Perth at 3.30pm and Watto collects them from their airport hotel and brings them home for dinner.  She has made chicken soup for us and a delicious looking moussaka for them.  Her freezer is full to overflowing, since there was a family dinner planned for last night but we had to pull the plug on that.

We are all tired so the McDonald’s take a taxi to their hotel at abut 8pm (11pm for them, of course) and I go to bed.  Cherrie follows soon after.

 Monday 7 October

Mercifully we feel well enough to fly today.  We meet Garry & Di at the airport and fly to Broome.  I have not eaten anything, not prepared to take the risk with a flight, but I make it fine.  We collect our cars at the airport and drive to the house which will be home for the next week.  Another ‘luxury’ experience with a list of defects as long as my arm.  I have long arms.  But the property manager deals quickly and efficiently with as many as she can and I save the rest for a letter.

We knew the house overlooked Roebuck Bay but what we didn’t know was that the main view is a caravan park

Having delivered our bags to our various bedrooms and surveyed the pantry we head into town where we ALL partake in lunch.  Cherrie and I eat an actual meal.  No grog yet.

The Coles Supermarket is very devoid of fresh food but we gather enough for a BBQ dinner and plans to check out Woolies tomorrow.

Another early night.  Another grog free night.

Tuesday 8 October

A RETCH-ED START Garry has caught the bug.  He has been throwing up, and the other thing, all day.  Cherrie and I feel dreadful that we have passed this on to him.  We were so careful not to touch anyone or anything that could contaminate but clearly we have failed.  Watto, who is a very senior nurse, tells me not to beat myself up about it (and she’s tough…if there was something to beat myself up about she would most certainly encourage me).  Under her supervision we are all on a OCD hand washing routine now and praying that no one else succumbs.  Great Southern Rail has a lot to answer for.

Cherrie and I read and relax today, we even have a swim in the pool.   We had to wait for the pool men to come and extricate the bag of rubbish from the bottom of the pool, remove a few toys and the odd badminton shuttle, turn the heater off, which was set to a rehabilitating 32 degrees, vacuum and correct chemical balance.  It was actually quite a pleasant swim,  but exhausting so we had to lie down again!  Interrupted only by the man to fix the lock which doesn’t work and replace the 7 light globes which have blown, along with some other minor fixes.

Meanwhile, Garry is confined to bed and Di is tending to him and reading.

Watto and Graham go to Cable Beach

And swim with the snakes (told you she was tough).

Hopefully tomorrow we can start with a clean sweep.