Woonona Mob "Zig Zag Oz": Kalbarri to Perth, a feast for the eyes!

Out of the red dust, red sands and the gentle red heat, and into the white sands and the cool rains …

Well after the delights of reefs, deserts, red, red dirt, and glorious weather, no sooner had we dropped below the Tropic of Capricorn and we were instantly reminded of the winter that had been. And the colours all began to change.

Travelling south towards Kalbarri the land slowly becomes increasingly covered in heath, and for those who know, heath means flowers at this time of year. There’s zillions of them – pinks, purples, yellow, whites, reds, blues dotting the whole landscape. We had our first taste of water from the skies in nearly 6 months. The further south we got, the more evident it became. We now apologise if we have tended to gloat a tad while you south-eastern readers have shivered. I think we’ve now caught up with you. However, the fun times continue for we travellers nonetheless.

The small coastal holiday town of Kalbarri is typical of those of south coast NSW. Beautiful clear waters and, for the first time in ages, surf. A large and pleasantly calm river estuary forms the front door of the town, framed by the impressive Züytdorp cliffs as it meets the sea. (Great name for cliffs, isn’t it – I think named after a Dutch ship that explored this area in the 1600s.) Given the cool weather, though, none of us felt inclined to go beyond our toes into the waters. We ventured into Kalbarri NP that rings the town, out into the splendid Murchison River gorge that cuts through the heathlands like a lazy, confused serpent.

From there we took a beeline for Perth, the coast dominated by huge white dunes and sand swathes. Along the way we found a sweet freecamp about 30 kms inland from Geraldton called (appropriately) Ellendale Pool, past one of the largest wind farms you’ll see in the land. Up early in the morn – and again without a swim – we visited the Pinnacles NP, an eerily beautiful landscape where limestone pillars, hundreds upon hundreds of them, 3 to 4 metres tall, rise up out of bare, pink sands. They’re relics from coral reefs when the seas were higher and closer inland (or has the land just risen skywards), and no one seems quite sure why the pillars themselves remain amongst the otherwise sandy lands.

As we head towards Perth the trees get taller, the white sands continue, the marks of agriculture more frequent on the land. They even throw in a pink coastal lake or too. I actually thought my eyes were deceiving when I saw pink water in the distance, stood on the roof of the Toyota to double check, but it stayed that colour. It’s something to do with high salt levels, bacteria and stuff like that (but no pink flamingos to match).

Then we hit the freeway, into Perth proper, and the delights of Karrinyup Waters Caravan Park, famed for having the largest jumping pillow in WA. Ellen was in raptures, and just avoided serious injury several times. Apart from being one of those great cities where you can straddle it from north to south without a traffic light on the freeways, Perth is a truly lovely city. Yes, biggish (and growing rapidly) but still small enough to be reasonably accessible. We shopped and dined as one does. Took in the beauty and vistas of Kings Park. While much of the Perth burbs are fairly new (and pretty crass, some of them) we were blown away by the beaches, the beautiful Swan River, and best of all the historic old world charm of Fremantle (“Freo” if you’re a local).

One day we took the fast ferry out to Rottnest Island for the day. Now what an intriguing place that is. It’s establishment by colonial oppressors in the 19^th Century was as a penal settlement for Aboriginal people from all over the state, far enough from the mainland to make swimming for it not a good idea. It also functioned as a salt mine (more hyper-saline lakes), an internment camp during WW1 & 2. But despite the sadness and misery in its background, since the early 1900s it has been an iconic summer holiday destination for Perth-siders. Most of its early buildings and more recent additions are low-key holiday shacks of one sort or another, all huddled up on the eastern end of the island. The rest of the island is low scrub, jumping with Quokkas, with cute little sandy bays, snorkelling reefs and vantage points for watching the whales pass up and down the coast. The remote parts truly feel like the Hebrides Islands in NW Scotland. A great spot and glad we got to see it (again, not a swim to be had, as Perth was still a tad bloody chilly).

The Woonona Mob.

Shell Beach, Francois Peron NP

That's why it's called Shell Beach! No sand, just millions of shells.

World Heritage Hamlin Bay. Board walk to Stromatolites.

One of the few sites in the world with active stomatolites. They are living rocks that produce oxygen, and when the sea levels dropped after the iceage, they were partly responsible for making the atmosphere breathable. They are an important step in evolution.