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Published: December 2nd 2006
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Gizza kiss!
Flo's reward for swimming with the sharks Having said our farewells to Team Ireland and waved them off on their merry way back down to Perth, it was time for poor Floseph to become Floella as he was now stuck with the girls! The morning was spent exploring Knox Gorge, which had a particularly tricky descent into it, with it being very steep and having lots of loose rocks. As ever, it was worth the effort getting down there and we spent some time chilling out in the freshwater pools with Smithers and Flo going off on a kamikaze mission, balancing on fallen trees and the like in an attempt to see as much of the gorge as possible!
Back up at the vans Smithers and Flo declared themselves ready to check out Joffre Falls and gorge, whilst Whits and Greeny, slightly gorged out, chose to set the campchairs up in the car back and set about catching some serious rays! Out two explorers had a little trouble finding the entrance to this gorge, but once located, they were off leaving the 2 geriatrics to a nice cup of tea out of the thermos and some QT with their books and sunshine.
That afternoon had been reserved for
In the Karijini
Fortesque Falls a look around the parks visitors centre run by Aboriginals and packed full of information, not only of the parks history, but of Australia's history in general, as well as detailed pictures and descriptions of all the nastys that can be encountered over here. We didn't actually get to see any of this though, as the discovery of a shower soon had us sidetracked - it had been 6 days since the last one and even though we'd been swimming in freshwater pools every day a good cleaning session was definitely in order. By the time we'd done with the showers the visitors centre was closed so we decided to go back and have a proper look around the following morning. It was a fascinating place with heaps of info and we spent a good few hours getting a little hedumacated on the local culture and history.
That afternoon it was off to Fortescue Falls, our last gorge before leaving the Karijini and its red dust for good. It's hard to single out a favourite of all of the ones we've seen, but if pushed this would be up there in the top 3. Firstly we went to the beautiful
falls and whiled away a couple of hours sunbathing and swimming before taking the walk over to Dales Gorge and its circular pool. This walk was like none we'd done so far as it was dry, stony and had a lot of vegetation to navigate your way around - a reminder of what happens during The Wet when the gorges flood allowing all sorts of trees and plantlife to flourish in the caverns - and was quite similar to the Land Before Time ... just without the dinousaurs! A quick dip was had in the 'fresh' circular pool - it's tucked into the rocks so it doesn't tend to get any sun on it, rendering it very chilly, before clambering out of the gorge and heading out of the park in an attempt to find Cleggy's 'secret' campsite, but not before Becs slammed the brakes on, did a speedy 3 pointer and shouted 'snake' at the top of her voice for some unknown reason in a very thick Brummy accent! Snake indeed it was, or at least used to be, until it encountered our 4 wheels and despite it's very squished head its body was still trying to writhe around
In the Karijini
The stunning landscape - a bit like a headless chicken. A photo was taken of our first official roadkill for later identification, which proved it to be a Common Whipsnake - dangerous and venemous! Cleggy's secret campsite remained a secret as we couldn't find it anywhere - this probably wasn't aided by the fact that Smithy couldn't find his map with the directions on, so our search was based entirely on guesswork. After a few fruitless jaunts down dirt tracks we soon gave in and drove onwards to the next rest stop a few km's further down the road. Arriving at this rest stop was a bit like entering a secret world dedicated to hicks and their big rigs - there were at least 20 of them gathered around a table, exchanging all sorts of 'on the road' tales. We snuck in where we could, slightly embarrased of our paupers van in comparison to their actual homes on wheels and set up our measly camp! As they all snuck off to the warmth of their vans and the TV when the sun went down, we huddled around the fire, drank some goon and played a few rounds of cards ... personally reckon we
80 mile beach
Collecting shells got the better deal though really - what's camping without a fire hey?!
Thursday morning saw us heading out to Port Hedland which was pretty much a hole, but the only stop off option for that day really. It's basically a massive industrial dock and Iron Ore mining town, meaning it's not that easy on the eye and the only thing of real interest to see there is the huge pile of salt at the BP plant. Still, we had some time to kill and in an attempt to make the most of it, handlines were grabbed, bait purchased and off we went to the jetty for a spot of lunchtime fishing. For once it was a successful session with Becs and Flo both catching some reasonable sized Trevally which went straight into the esky, (once they'd had their necks broken by some locals who actually knew what they were doing!) to keep fresh for dinner that night.
From there, after a brief stop at Woolies for some supplies, it was back on the highway for a short drive to our home for the night - another roadside rest stop, but this one was a bit special - it was
Cooking in the dark
Smithers learns how to gut a Trevally very picturesque and had an almost holiday park feel to it with the people camped next to us greeting us in a friendly manner as opposed to the fearful look of disdain you tend to draw when rocking up in a spray painted camper van with a dodgy phrase on the back! As tea time approached Flo whipped out his Swiss Army Knife (or just knife to him with him being Swiss and all) and he and Smithers set about gutting the days catch and prepping it for cooking with garlic, herbs and oil etc. For those who tried it (all except Whits shockingly enough!) it was delicious and a real treat to eat something you've actually caught yourself!
After an early night we were up at a reasonable hour to make our way to Eighty Mile Beach. The one and only place to stay there was Eighty Mile Beach Caravan Park - a huge site catering for all requirements from cabins to tent pitches, right next to this clasically stunning beach with stretches of azure seas and golden sands as far as the eye can see. Maximum relaxtion was the name of the game, so whilst Whits lost herself in a trashy gossip mag whislt taking in the rays, the others headed down to the waters edge for yet some more fishing. This time it was unsuccessful, although some fish was bought home that night, donated to Flo for his heroic attempts! Apparently he'd waded out so far in the hope of getting a bite, that he had to be called back by the locals as he was getting dangerously close to where the Hammerheads and their mates like to swim! Only our Flo - the crazy Swiss bastard as they say in the Foxy! So dinner comprised of the donated fish as well as some Flo burgers (burgers with cheese and red peppers) as we'd made him eat salad and soup for the last few days. As we were cooking up the feast at the BBQ we got talking to the couple from the site behind us, who were travelling for months upon end with their 2 toddlers. In need of some adult conversation, they joined us for some drinks outside the vans and various travelling tales were exchanged before retreating to bed.
Tschuss (as they say in the Swiss)
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