Doing the Wombat Walk

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Doing the Wombat Walk

There it was again. I sat up abruptly causing the air mattress to sink dangerously earthwards, snatched up the headlight torch and attempted to shine it through the pvc tent-window. Amidst the reflected light and turned to a certain angle I could see a large wide-bottomed outline scruffling along the ground. A hairy wombat negotiating his way amongst the guy ropes, the tent shuddering every time he knocked into something he was sure had not been there during the previous night's foraging. And so it was.. And so it is at Bundeela. Wombat heaven. Wombat haven.

Paddling along the Yarrunga Lake, the upper arm of the Kangaroo River meeting more canoes and
and kayaks than I thought had ever been manufactured in Australia, we saw more wombat holes than hotels in Dubai. Safely tucked up in their beds they must have been impervious to the shrieks and screams emanating from the paddlers who assured us that the rapids were only 10 minutes away.
After a good half an hour paddling and still no sign we turned once more downstream lazily dipping a desultory oar and drifting alongside the bank spotting 'water dragons' out sunning themselves on the muddy slopes.

'I want a photo of a wombat!' I said, 'I wish one would come out now.' On cue, one fat, amiable creature complied. He ambled, somewhat bow-legged, toward the car and without a by your leave proceeded to scratch his back on the underside of the trailer hitch, a harsh rasping sound, then moved on under the car axles. That explained some of last night's noises!

As it grew dark, torch spotlights appeared and excited groups of children were out wombat spotting. A high-pitched cry meant another one was spied.

Bundeela is a great spot albeit crammed to the gunwales with summer holidaymakers. We keep quiet, facing bush and read ignoring some of the bogan behaviour inevitable in a place like this. A Sydney Water Catchment where you pay nothing to camp. And the wildlife spotting tour is free too! Take your own canoe or hire from Kangaroo Valley Safaris, some of them taking you to overnight camping spots. Paddling downstream along the river like a sinewy rumba dancer dressed in black glistening with silver sequins, we pass the not-so-glamorous pumping station but decide against carrying on down to the dam. We return past children riotously jumping off ropes and drag the canoe back to settle down to some more reading.

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