Tag Archives: Western Australia

New: Broome

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Saturday 10 August 2024 – All the general admin associated with getting from Mantarays to Exmouth Airport to Perth Airport to the QT hotel to dinner to overnight to Perth Airport to our next destination went perfectly smoothly, and so here we are at said next destination, having traveled some 2,800km. We have got only as far as Broome, about 950km from Exmouth as the Australian raven flies, but time pressures and airline schedules governed the choice of route.

We arrived at the Mangrove Hotel slightly before our room was ready for us, so there was nothing for it but to deal with the housekeeping’s laxity by going to the bar.

Jane’s preparatory research about Things To Do, and the look and feel of the place that hit us as we took our places and our beers, is that there is a very different, and quite relaxed, vibe about Broome. For example, the main restaurant here is called Johnny Sausage, which carries a set of implicit brand values rather different from what we experienced in Perth.  The temperature, according to the nice man who drove our aeroplane, is 34°C, which in England would likely be intolerably hot; certainly when we had temperatures like that in Spain or Grenada, it was not comfortable.  Here, it’s absolutely delightful, from which I infer that the humidity is very low. The sun is stinging hot, but in the shade, accompanied by a glass of something cold, one feels one could sit and relax forever.

Helping the general pleasantness is the view.

It is easy to see why this is called the Mangrove Hotel.

The colour of the water is simply wonderful. In North America, this would be result of glacial flow; here, it’s due to shallow water, sand and blue skies.

There’s a lot of birdlife to watch, as well.  Inevitably, there are gulls,

in this case Hartlaub’s Gulls, once considered a subspecies of the Silver Gulls we saw in such profusion in Perth, and there are flocking loads of them, all looking to pirate food from the restaurant tables.

We also saw several Black Kites

many White Ibises,

and a Rainbow Bee Eater

which was sometimes being followed by another one

which was presumably a Ga Amma.

We took an early evening meal and the opportunity for a reasonably early night, as we had to be up and at ’em quite promptly the next morning.

Sunday 11 August 2024 – dawned and, having a day at leisure, we went for a walk. Obviously.

But first, we caught the bus. We were out of the hotel by 0728, as this was the time for the First Bus of the day. Broome is really quite spread out and so walking between the various points of interest being not really a sensible choice, we opted to catch the Broome Explorer bus, and buy a hop-on, hop-off pass. The reason we caught the very first bus is that this is the only one that goes to Gantheaume Point, something that we were interested to see and to use as a starting point for a walk back to Broome, which we had been told would be about 5km.

Because the bus goes round the houses before driving out to the point, it was 8am as we started our walk towards the point, which is about 500m from the bus stop, with a Straw-Necked Ibis overseeing us as we went.

Our interest was, in principle, two-fold. Firstly, there are outcrops of sandstone, which make for striking rock formations. Some of these were deposited in shallow water in the Early Cretaceous period, about 130 million years ago, Secondly, footprints from dinosaurs of that time and plant fossils are preserved in the sandstone. At very low tide, dinosaur footprints can apparently be seen about 30 metres out to sea. We weren’t expecting to see these footprints, but were interested in the rock formations.

As you approach, the outlook is not all that promising. There’s a skeletal lighthouse

(not suitable for Skeletal Lamping, which is from a different country)  and a few rocks visible.

Then you get close and

it’s very striking indeed. My favourite formation was this one.

It was, apparently, possible to see what one chap swears were dinosaur footprints, and people were out scouting the area he was indicating

but neither Jane nor I were up for scrambling down to take a look (and then having to scramble back up again).  There was a representation of dinosaur footprints up where we were,

which we think were made with a plaster cast of the real thing. But we’re not sure.

Our plan was to walk back to the (“world-famous” according to the audio commentary in the bus) Cable Beach area of Broome, starting from the beach near the bus stop

and aiming for the Divers Tavern, near Cable Beach, where we would seek breakfast. Or, at least, a beer.

It’s possible to do the walk entirely along the beach, but a sign indicated that there were other trails available through dunes and bush as well, which we thought we would aim for. The trouble was that there didn’t appear to be any signage for the trails.

We walked along the beach for quite a way, on sand which was quite firm in places and somewhat hard work in others. We kept an eye out for possible trails leading away from the beach but seemed to be covering a lot of distance without seeing anything.

We crossed a patch of very damp sand with a strange covering

(here it is in close-up)

which might be the excavations of a crab or other creature?  Again, we’re not sure.

Eventually, we saw a trail marker which led away from the beach, and decided to take it, on the basis that we were fed up with walking on sand in what had become very hot sunshine. A certain amount of robust debate ensued as to whether this track was a good idea, and bits of it involved crashing through overgrowth, which was not particularly rewarding.  But eventually we came across a path through the bush

which led us to a road close to the Divers Tavern, by which time (about 1045) we  had covered a total of about 10km, were very hot, quite tired and ready for a glass of something cold.

The Divers Tavern doesn’t open until 11am.

Bugger.

In the end, since a Broome Explorer bus was due before the pub opened, we decided to head back to the hotel and find some kind of sustenance there, which meant we broke our fast with burger and pizza. The accompanying beer was very welcome, though.  At a neighbouring table, there was a striking vignette of a lady who was talking to her mate on her phone, but couldn’t tear herself away from the lunch she was eating at the same time.

We saw what we thought was an Osprey, but it was too far away for a clear photo. The Rainbow Bee-eater was still on duty, too. It’s so pretty, I can’t resist sharing another photo.

After a bit of a siesta, we made use of our bus passes to do a further expedition, to look at Downtown Broome and then go to Cable Beach to see a particular sunset sight.

Broome‘s history has been dominated, since the 1880s, by the pearl industry, following the discovery of a very rich source of pearl shells. Japanese and Chinese people were skilled pearl divers and many of them set up ventures in the town. In consequence, it now has a significant China Town and a profusion of pearl emporia.  Mother of pearl was in great demand until the 1950s, when plastic became the main material for buttons; these days, the pearl industry in Broome focuses more on the production of cultured pearls.

We walked up to China Town and took a quick look in Willie Creek’s Pearl Luggers establishment. As well as selling all things pearl, they have a couple of old pearl lugger boats outside

one of which is the subject of a major restoration project.  Nearby is a reminder about what diving might have entailed.

China Town is mainly centred around Johnny Chi Lane

which was rather quiet, since today was Sunday and everything was closed. The whole place was practically deserted, which I suppose is not too surprising for 5pm on a Sunday.

The architecture is not particularly varied, and the audio track on the Broome Explorer explained that everything was built with steel and corrugated iron in order that it be robust enough to withstand a cyclone – in fact buildings had to be certified cyclone-proof.  This also explained why the buildings we’d seen in Exmouth were of similar construction.

We waited by Johnny Chi Lane for the next Broome Explorer, which gave us the chance for a (mercifully) brief encounter with a couple of the locals, who were shouting drunkenly at each other as they walked down the street, but stopped to have a chat as they passed the bus stop. On learning that we were Brits, one of them professed to be a major fan of Iron Maiden and Def Leppard. They were clearly somewhat out of it, something that is not uncommon with people of indigenous stock, and we were happy that they were quite genial and even happier that they moved on before continuing to shout at each other as they went on down the street.

Another bus stop conversation we had later that day shed a little light on a strange alcohol-related phenomenon we’d come across when ordering drinks at the bar; we couldn’t order a double gin-and-tonic. We were offered a G&T and, separately, a shot of gin, which seemed a bit strange. In the bus stop conversation, we were told that one could only buy a couple of bottles of wine at any one time, one had to show id whilst doing so, and the transaction was logged so that one couldn’t then go elsewhere and buy more wine. It would seem not unrelated with the difficulties that the indigenous population has had in dealing with the alcohol that colonisers brought with them.

Cable Beach was a popular place to be that Sunday afternoon; lots of picnickers

and a fair few people on the beach itself.

It seemed that people were there to enjoy the sunset. We were there, though, to check out a particular scene, which was sunset camel rides. Camels were brought over to Australia in great numbers as they were more robust to withstand the extreme weather conditions than other working animals such as horses; and Australia has the largest population of wild camels in the world.

Some tame ones are used to provide rides for punters at sunset every day here in Broome, and we wanted to see this phenomenon and I wanted to photograph it. Of course.

We originally stationed ourselves up on a walkway above the beach, but then I thought a better viewpoint be down at beach level, which was a good move because once we’d moved down, we caught sight of a caravan in the distance.

So we chased along to get a better view.

 

After the ride, the camels were lined up so that people could disembark in a dignified way;

I assume they embarked the same way; much easier than the usual way which (as I understand these things) involves clambering on to a lying camel and then clinging on for dear life as it stands up.

By this time, the sun was setting in very dramatic fashion

and so we headed back to the bus stop to catch the bus home, in itself a bit of an adventure as for some reason the audio system on the bus which announces each stop was not working and  the bus driver, it seemed, was approaching the end of his shift and so was yelling out the stops amidst other, largely incomprehensible, comments. Rather than trust him, we used Google Maps to make sure we got off at the right stop and retired to our room for a welcome cup of tea.

That was it for Broome, then. It seemed slightly strange to us – very dispersed and slightly eccentric. Its population is around 15,000, which triples in its peak season (May to October), and it is the largest town of the Kimberley area.

And it is to the Kimberley area that the next segment of our trip is dedicated. Exactly what that means, and how we will be exploring it, will become clear if you keep reading these pages.

 

 

A Brief Excursion to Exmouth

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Wednesday 7 August 2024 – The next segment of our trip was a short, sharp trip some 500km north in order to spend just one day in Exmouth, which is almost, but not quite, exactly the westernmost point of Western Australia.  Look, we were supposed to stop in at Exmouth for two days en route to our next destination (which you will be able to read about, but all in good time); but airline schedules were against us, so we had to do a quick scramble up to Exmouth for two nights/one day and then back to Perth for one night before moving on again. Jane doesn’t think this is hectic, but then she’s not the one writing this guff.

To get to Exmouth, we were due to catch a flight to Learmonth and thence a 30-minute shuttle to our accommodation, the exotically-named Mantarays resort at the very Australian-sounding Sunrise Beach on Ningaloo Reef. To catch the flight, we had to get to Terminal 4 at Perth Airport, which is rather like Terminal 4 or 5 at London Heathrow – bloody miles from anywhere. For those considering public transport, Perth has an Airport Central station, which leaves the traveller with a short stroll to Terminals 1 or 2. To get thence to Terminals 3 or 4 takes a 15-minute shuttle bus ride. An alternative would be to get off a stop early at Redcliffe. And then have a 15-minute walk to Terminal 3 or 4.

So we elected to catch a cab.

The hotel staff were sure that there would be a taxi available on the rank just outside the doors, and, as I looked out of the window at checkout time, there seemed to be a few taxis there. As we walked out of the hotel, there were two; someone took the front taxi, which left just the one on the rank for us. It was, however, devoid of a driver, and continued to be so for several minutes. Eventually, just at the point where I had gone back to ask the hotel staff to be more specific in whistling up a conveyance with an actual driver, a chap appeared clutching a large coffee cup and professing to be prepared to take us to the airport in the otherwise deserted car.

Once there, since we had checked in online, the process was admirably well-organised and swift – print baggage label, attach to bag, wave bag goodbye at the drop-off point, go through security, get coffee. The security system didn’t require us to get electronics out of the bags, which is a blessing; and the coffee was pretty good.

With half an hour to go before our flight, and the screens showing “Boarding soon”, we headed to the gate and the first slight hiccup in the otherwise smooth progress of the day, as no boarding action happened until the actual scheduled departure time.  However, at that point, some smartly-dressed people and a couple of chaps wearing big hats turned up, so we were reassured that at least we had a driver and a conductor.  We boarded reasonably soon after they turned up – not a formal process by group number or any such modern thing; the staff just said “come on, then”, and, since we were sitting close by, we were among the first to get on the aircraft, which was one of them Fokkers.

The rest of the journey proceeded uneventfully, with a views of Perth as we ascended showing how rectilinear its suburbs are.

Clouds obscured the view for the rest of the journey until we were very close to our destination, at which point it became apparent how much the terrain had changed.

At Learmonth, which is a combined military (RAAF) and civil aviation facility, we had the usual, slightly fretful, wait until our bags appeared, during which time Jane established that we did actually have a booking on the Exmouth shuttle bus; and once everyone had loaded their bags on the bus luggage trailer we were off.  Our accommodation

was the second stop, and, reassuringly had a bar by the reception desk.

Even more reassuring was the supply of tea in our room.

It’s not Twinings Finest, but it’ll do.

There was some confusion about the opening hours of the restaurant, which means we missed lunch, but the place redeemed itself by offering a complimentary guest laundry, of whose services I availed myself quite swiftly. These things are important, you know.

Mantarays is a small but decent resort, with, as well as the laundry, all the mod cons one might expect – swimming pool, gym, restaurant and bar.  There are some engaging sculptures about the place.

Having settled in, it was just a case of getting to the bar for pre-dinner drinks and then, well, dinner, before retiring for the night, with an early start planned for the activities on the one day we had here before returning to Perth.

Thursday 8 August 2024 – Early meant an 0530 alarm call so we could take a swift bite of breakfast as the restaurant opened at 0630 and still be ready to be collected at 0700. On the way to breakfast, we could confirm that the “Sunrise Beach” moniker is not a misnomer.

Prompt at 0700, a bus turned up, but it wasn’t for us; it was for the other three who were in the hotel reception at the time. But a few seconds after they’d left, another bus came along and this was ours. The objective of the day was to go snorkelling (part 1) and, if possible, to swim with whale sharks (part 2), something that Jane has been very eager to do for quite some time, now.  Me? Well, I’m in favour of the principle, but since the practice involves messing around with wetsuits, snorkel tubes, masks and flippers, I have strong reservations about my ability not to make an utter klutz of myself. For that reason, I had been conflicted about this activity pretty much from the start; and I could easily have stayed in bed and had a lazy day of it.  I went along, though, because I knew I’d curse myself if I didn’t; and I packed as if I might have a go at the snorkelling part of the day, even though the whale sharking bit was fully-booked.

Our bus, which was staffed and driven by friendly, enthusiastic and very fit-looking girls, stopped off and picked up several more people, each of whom seemed younger, fitter and more ready to go snorkelling than I felt. Our end point was on the west coast of the headland, exactly opposite where we started, on the east coast of it, but to get there, we had to drive right round the top of the cape. One of the girls used the time to explain that we were circumnavigating a US military facility, to brief us on the day and also to get us to sign waiver forms.

I was surprised to hear her optimism about seeing whale sharks. My understanding had been that we were way out of season for these magnificent beasts, and that we might have to make do with seeing manta rays and such.  

We stopped at a jetty at the south end of the Jurabi Coastal Park and were transferred to our dive boat, Blue Strike,

in two shifts

whereupon all sorts of wetsuit and snorkelling gear came out and I consequently made up my mind that I would not venture into the water.  Everybody else kitted up,

Geoff, the skipper, gave us a safety briefing,

and Ricardo gave a “how to get off and on the boat” briefing,

including a practice assembly

before everybody got their marching snorkelling orders

The first snorkelling session was close to the shore, in the lagoon behind the reef, and it gave people and staff a chance to suss out what it would be like and, for the staff, who might need help.  And then we went out past the rather magnificent surf that crashed on the reef

into the deeper waters where whale sharks might be found.  Locating them is not quite a random affair; a spotter plane buzzes about to look for them and direct the boats (for there are several in this game) towards the sharks, which spend some time near the surface and so, because they are so big, can be seen from passing aircraft.

Before anyone is allowed into the water alongside whale sharks, rules need to be set out, and everyone had a briefing on how to behave during a whale shark encounter,

which means forming a line alongside the shark and letting it swim by, swimming only on the surface, staying at least three metres away at the side and four at the rear, and never swimming under or over a shark.

The sharks never actually surface, so I never saw one, but in all our snorkellers left the boat four times to see whale sharks, and each time there was a shark for them to appreciate. Jane participated in three of the sessions and was able to get a good view of a shark on each occasion, which she found very pleasing. There was a professional photographer, Heather Doran, with each group that left the boat, and here are some of the photos she captured, along with some commentary from Jane, who was actually there.

The photographer was also the in-water spotter, so first in to the water at each sighting, to locate the fish for the groups of swimmers and also to catch some good pictures, for identification purposes as well as recording the event for the guests.

Each group had a dive guide in hi-vis pink, and we followed their instructions as to where and how to swim; on my first two swims we were each time above a shark which was gradually diving deeper into invisibility; 

for the third swim we were alongside one cruising near the surface, and I swam with the guide around behind it – past the huge tail which produced quite a significant current as it swam – to the other side, to keep pace with it for a short while.

It was a fantastic experience but I have to say I found it hard work! I haven’t done much open ocean swimming, and the swell and the choppy water made it very tiring just manoeuvring around the other swimmers and the sharks, while simultaneously watching the shark in the water, watching the dive leader on the surface, and trying not to breathe or swallow too much seawater! Not to mention getting off and on the boat every time*. So after three goes at seeing these magnificent creatures I sat out the last go, feeling thoroughly pleased with my day.

I guess I regret not seeing/photographing one of these magnificent creatures for myself, but equally I’m sure that I would have been struggling to cope, and a massive holdup for the rest of the group – even Jane, who is much more skilled at snorkelling than I (admittedly a low bar to clear, but still), found it difficult on occasions to deal with the conditions; the dive crew were very helpful, setting her up with different bits of gear to make things better for her.

Me? I just tried to get photos of the humpback whales that were occasionally to be seen in the area.

The first one we saw was quite a way away;

yes, there it is.

But others came closer

and one was good enough to do the tail fluke thing really quite close to us.

We saw a Manta Ray, sadly only swimming, not leaping; and there were a couple of occasions when a whale breached, but I was never in the right place at the right time to capture that impressive sight (unlike the marvellous sights we saw off Cape Cod last year). However, Heather, the pro photographer was; here are her shots.

Manta Ray

All the time this was going on, we were not too far from land, and quite close to the edge of the reef, which gave the chance for some quite splendid photos of surf.

Although I didn’t personally see a whale shark, I enjoyed observing the process, and Jane was really delighted with her encounters with the sharks.

So, the one day we had in the Ningaloo area was a success, and now we just had an overnight at the hotel and a flight back to Perth in order to continue our northward journey.

Friday 9 August 2024 – Before we headed to the airport, we had to go into Exmouth proper to pick up the professional’s photos, which gave us a chance to see the town.

It took us a while to find the Exmouth Dive shop where we could pick up the photos, and we actually walked right by it a few times before we spotted it (last photo above).

The flight back to Perth and the overnight there is the start of the next, and major, segment of our Australia trip, which we’re both looking forward to immensely. So keep an eye on these pages to find out what we got up to next, eh?

 

* This is why I don’t get on with snorkelling

Our last day in Perth

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Tuesday 6 August 2024 – The day started with us missing out on things.  We had no formal items on the schedule, so had a bit of a lie-in, to such an extent that when we went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, they’d stopped serving.  “Ah, well” we thought, “at least there’s the lobby café.”  We went back to the room, and I got distracted by writing this ‘ere blog, to such an extent that when we went down to get a coffee and pastry, it had closed for the day. “Ah, well” we thought, “we’re bound to be able to find coffee and pastry out somewhere.”  So we went for a walk. Obviously.

Our first stop was the Bell Tower, which is so named because it has bells in it.

One could be forgiven for wondering what the hell could be interesting about bells, but it was an interesting diversion, covering the making of bells, the ringing of bells and the displaying of bells.  Having paid the entrance fee, one is faced with six flights of stairs or a lift, so we opted for the latter for the way up and the former for the way down.

As one exits the lift, there is a carillon. If you put a coin in, you can get it to play a tune, selected from a bewildering variety of possibilities; or, for those interested in the deep mathematics and patterns of bell ringing, you could get it to “ring the changes”.  Here is a video of a set of changes happening, which is very, very dull, unless you’re heavily into campanology.

Inside the building at the top is the Anzac Bell, the largest swinging bell in Australia, cast from copper, tin and gold, and weighing in at 6½ tons.

Ceremonially rung daily at midday, it is a lasting memorial to Australian and New Zealand servicemen and women involved in wars, conflicts and peacekeeping operations around the world.

One level down, and just visible in the photo above, is a set of 18 bells, a dozen of which are the historically significant bells (made in 1725) from the Saint Martin in the Fields Church in London, which had to be removed from that church because their shaking was destroying the church tower.

To this day, these bells are actually rung regularly by a team of bell ringers, who ring the changes twice a week; one can book a ticket to watch them, and also book a “Bell Ringing Experience” which gives a chance for punters to have a go on the ropes. This makes the Bell Tower, custom built to house these bells, one of the largest musical instruments in the world.

Forgive the reflections, by the way; the bells are behind two layers of glass, presumably so that punters who are watching don’t get deafened.

Outside the Bell Tower is something that demonstrates one aspect of modern life in which Perth lags the zeitgeist.

Love padlocks. In France and Italy they are a curse, destroying bridges with their weight and being a general menace. In the Bell Tower, they’ll sell you a heart-shaped padlock for AUs$5.

Going to the Bell Tower put us near Elizabeth Quay, and so we went there in search of that coffee and pastry that we’d missed out on earlier.  We found the coffee at The Island Brewhouse, but they only did proper meals, and not pastry.  We weren’t yet ready for proper food, so satisfied ourselves with just the coffee before continuing our peregrination.

This led us across the very ritzy Elizabeth Quay Bridge

and past a bizarre statue.

It’s called “First Contact” and is a representation, created by indigenous artist Laurel Nannup, of what the original Noongar people must have thought on seeing the sails of an arriving European ship, looking like a big white bird, and crewed by white people whom they thought were the souls of their ancestors returning from the sea.

Our eventual destination was Kings Park, a cultural heritage site and home to the Western Australia Botanic Garden. We allowed Google Maps to tell us the best way to walk there and followed its directions. These led us along beside the river, where we saw an Australasian Darter.

We also saw, high on a hilltop, an obelisk, which seemed to be in the general direction we were headed. At one point, we had to scamper across a four-lane highway, with traffic lights only controlling two of them, but we made it OK. Then we had to scramble up a bank to a path which led us along and back down to the main road we’d just crossed, at the foot of the Kokoda Track; this would lead us up into the Park. The space at the bottom of the Track looked a bit unkempt and scruffy, and furthermore didn’t seem to have a formal way of access from the major highway running past this start point; but, hey, what the hell, we thought, and started up it.

Up was the operative word, here.

The track passed several plaques, such as these.

I wasn’t quite sure of the significance of these, because I hadn’t yet found out what the Kokoda Track was about.  It carried on up and up

for some 161 steps. Only at the top did a couple of things become apparent. The first was an information board explaining that the Kokoda Track Memorial Walk is a tribute to the bravery of Australian troops who fought in Papua New Guinea in WWII. The fighting on The Kokoda Track was one of the vital elements of the Australian efforts in World War II. The Papua New Guinea campaign, including The Kokoda Track, Milne Bay, Buna, Gona and Sanananda resulted in a total of 8,546 Australian and United States casualties. Australian soldiers fought through atrocious conditions and against vastly superior numbers in this campaign between July 1942 and January 1943.

This was the second.

We had walked up this closed path; this went some way towards explaining its unkempt state! Anyway, having ascended some 70 metres vertical, the view was pretty good.

There were various paths available, and we pottered on in search of our first main objective within the park,

the Giant Baobab (or Boab as they call it here), Gija Jumulu. Estimated at 750 years old, the tree is a special gift to all Western Australians from the northern Indigenous people, the Gija, who are the traditional land owners. They performed a farewell ceremony to the tree on Monday, 14 July 2008 and it then travelled over 3200 km by long haul truck from Warmun down to Perth.  It’s the longest known land journey of a living tree this size: 37 tonnes and 18 metres tall.

But “giant”? Hah! We saw baobabs far larger (and older) than this one when we were in Madagascar.

Jane had visited the Botanic Garden when she was last in Perth, longer ago than it would be delicate to expound, and was interested to see the wild flowers; there was a wild flower pavilion signposted and so we hied ourselves thither. To be honest, it was a bit of a let down,

so we pottered on along various paths taking in the general ambience, which was delightful.

We left the garden by its very stylish main entrance

past the War memorial, which was the obelisk we’d seen earlier,

and headed back towards the city, past sights both large

and small.

Australian Magpie (not related to the UK version, and not, surprisingly, a corvid)

A Magpie-Lark

We had the option of going down the Jacob’s Ladder stairs

but decided against that and walked down a more gentle gradient to St. Georges Terrace in the city, where there was a further selection of fine colonial-style buildings crouched between huge modern steel-and-glass carbuncles.

We ended up back at the Island Brewhouse, since we were by now ready for a proper meal. We sat outside to eat our meal, because it was still reasonably warm, and it actually came on to rain, which surprised us somewhat. Having eaten, we waited for a gap between showers and hastily made our way back to the hotel (via restocking the Twinings at Woollies) to prepare for the next segment of this trip.

We’ve had a lovely time in Perth and its environs, but tomorrow, Qantas being willing, we must leave. We fly North! to Alas… Learmonth and travel thence to Exmouth; for what purpose, you’ll have to keep an eye on these pages to discover.