Thursday 15th of May

Today we thought that we should give our skin time to iron out any wrinkles, and spend some time on dry land. With that in mind, we were up at dawn, let me repeat that, we were up at dawn, for a quick stroll to the head of Mandu Mandu gorge, a nearby hike through a cut in the red hills of the Cape Range. It was fantastic, with birds, rocks, and, um, other rocks. It was very pretty, though.

After a breakfast of pancakes and eggs, we upped stakes (some with real difficulty) and bounced our way out of the campsite and down to Yardie Creek. We stopped to admire the plaque which informed us that this road to an historic crossing in old sheep farming country had been opened in 2000. History is overrated.

Yardie creek is the only gorge in the national park that has water year-round, which is good for the ecosystem, but bad for the people trying to drive south of the creek. There is an official crossing place for people in pre-rusted 4WD vehicles, if you're daring enough or if you really, really need to get to the other side. We waded across to appreciate the peril (significant) and the likelihood of us trying this in the Rav4 (vanishingly small). Nevertheless, we hung out for a while in hopes that somebody would come hooning through, but no luck. Instead, we took a very sedate boat trip up the river, admiring the bird life (ospreys, cormorants, welcome swallows) and the rare black-footed rock wallaby. It was really very pleasant.

A short drive away was a sweeping sandy bay called, let's check the notes, Sandy Bay, which was so unbelievably idyllic that it tempted us back in the water for a leisurely snorkel. Afterwards, we dried out on the beach and speculated as to what could be responsible for the variety of animal tracks in the sand. Unresolved, we jumped in the car and headed back out to Exmouth, stopping to admire a shipwreck just off shore. That night, relaxing pizza and beer at the apostrophe-deficeint Graces Tavern.

Ah... this is the rest and relaxation that we always hope for, but rarely get on vacation. And a good thing that we saved up some energy for tomorrow's boat dives. But for this night, a quiet, early night. After beating Kris at cribbage, that is.

Wedneesday, 14 May navy pier danger dive

We awoke on Wednesday with a mission. Find a campsite for that evening.

Now I wouldn't think this would be so difficult in a land the size of the United States but with one/tenth the population. However, there is a small but dedicated community of perennial campers that lurk at national parks to get the best camp sites. The community is split between young college leavers in rented camper vans driving across Australia saving all their money for beer and petrol. The other part of the community is the "grey nomads," retirees in expensive RVs or 4x4 with trailers.

We had been warned if we were going to beat the grey nomads, we needed to be at our campsite before 10 am.

At 9:30, we found a great place. A short hike to Mandu Mandu gorge, a top snorkel site just up the beach, the cleanest pit toilet we've ever seen, and NO generators. Like Minnesota parking lot vultures in January, we slid into their vacated spot to set a tent as far from the family tent with toddlers as possible.

We only had enough time to erect our tent on some of the hardest packed sand in Australia (4 bent tent pegs can testify to that!) before driving back to Exmouth. We arrived just in time to load up for our next dive trip: NAVY pier. Rated by our guides as one of the Top 10 dive sites in Australia.

The pier is part of the Naval Communication Stations founded by the Americans in the 70s. The American military built the towers in the States, then dissembled them bolt by bolt, shipped them to Australia, built a pier, unloaded them and rebuilt the towers.

Since then, the pier has mostly accumalated fantastic marine life. Unfortunately, a substantial portion of it was deadly. there was fire coral (neurotoxins), stone fish (neurotoxins), lion fish (neurotoxins), reef sharks (sharp teeth), carpet sharks (sharp teeth), tiger sharks (BIG sharp teeth), barracuda (tiny sharp teeth). GREAT...don't touch anything.

So, we got our dive gear, went through the military checkpoint (which despite scare tactics amounted to roll call in elementary school), then out on to the pier. Entering the water was slightly nerve-racking. We were expected to make a giant stride entry from 2 meters above the water's surface. Unfortunately, waddling forward in fins gives you a lot of time to imagine tripping and falling face first with several tons of scuba gear into water that is so clear it only looks a few feet deep. After marshalling my courage, (and considering the alternative of getting back OUT of my wetsuit!) I took the plunge. Nathan grabbed a picture (not of me, but the distance from the diving platform to the water.)

Under the water was amazing--we saw beautiful coral, schools of tropical fish (electric blue, bright yellow, lime green), and the slightly adrenaline pump of deadly coral, scorpionfish, and lion fish. We saw moray eels, a big potato cod (about 1 m), grouper, and of course some very stimulating nudibranchs. I spent a lot of time trying to remember to watch my buoyance so that I didn't bump into anything that could kill me with a subtle stinger. Some of the highlights included seeing a sleeping reef shark (about 2 m long) and an amazing large carpet shark draped over one of the pylons.

The carpet shark (called a wobbegong here) had the back half of a shark, but the front half was perfectly camoflaged with the coral. Our photo didn't turn out, but here's what he looked like....

After the dive, we drove back out to our campsite at cape range park where we settled in for a delicious meal mashed potato and thai tuna steaks over our whizzy new backpacking stove. After Nathan accepted a crushing defeat in cribbage he sulked for the rest of the evening with his book, while a slipped off to dreamland in the glow of victory (or our camp lantern).

Tomorrow...hiking the gorge and other activities on dry land.

Tuesday, 13 May--whalesharks!

This is it. The moment you've been waiting for! At least, that's what we were telling ourselves when the alarm went off. It was an early start. 7:15 am at Ningaloo Reef Dreaming for a relaxed day on the boat, and the opportunity to swim with the Whale Sharks.

For those of you who haven't seen the entire Jacques Cousteau collection, whale sharks are the world's largest fish and grow up to 18m in length (that's 60 feet for those of you in North America). That's a little over 3 Dodge Durango SUV's end to end. Luckily for us, and for the other folks forking out a substantial chunk of cash for the opportunity, these sharks are also pretty much vegetarians, living on Krill and stuff unlucky enough to get caught in the grill. Mouth. I mean mouth.

So we were prepared that we were going to be in the open ocean with a giant shark. That's what we and thousands of other people come to Exmouth for. What we weren't prepared for was commando snorkelling.

The Whale Sharks have migration patterns that are mostly unknown, and protected by legisltation. We were limited to swimming with the whalesharks for 60 minutes, with no more than 10 people in the water at any one time, not closer than 3m, no swimming in front of the shark, etc. etc. In order for everyone to get their turn at snorkelling with the whalesharks, we were warned that we must be ready to jump in at anytime, and exit the water with military precision (which is difficult wearing a snorkel and fins).

To give us an opportunity to practice, we first went to the reef where we did a deep sea snorkel. This was supposed to be a relaxed swim to get used to snorkelling near the reef. What we weren't prepared for was 3 meter swell, and the waves breaking over the reef. Eventually the rocking of the ocean and the crashing waves left even the most hardy swimmers sea-sick. We returned to the boat, green at the gills, and not feeling any more prepared.

Shortly after our practice snorkel they sent up a spotter plane, and they almost immediately spotted a whaleshark. He was 6 m long, but swimming too close to the reef for the boat to safely drop us. After seeing the boat's crew struggle to keep up in the crashing surf, we were glad that they decided it was too rough for us tourists (there's no guarantees--they are a lot less worried about lawsuits here so I thought they might drop us in anyway--after all we signed a waiver). Meanwhile, 50% of the passengers came up with this clever technique to lure the shark away from the reef -- gather at the rail, and offer the morning's (slightly used) breakfast as an enticement. Surprisingly, he declined to join us.

While they searched for another whaleshark, we had a hurried lunch. During the second bite of my sandwich they shouted, "In the water in 3 minutes! group A ready". Swallowing my sandwich whole, I felt even more seasick. Suddenly we were herded into the water like lemmings over a cliff...where was it? Then out of the blue, the slow graceful movements of two ocean rays. Gorgeous! More like flight than swimming, they swooped and glided around us, first right side up, then upside down, showing us their 6 foot wingspan and gills from the bottom.

The boat swings around to pick us up,"Hurry up, on board, move to the back, c'mon, c'mon!"
We are heading towards another whaleshark. This one looks promising. The spotters jump in the water and begin swimming along side the whaleshark with their arm raised. "Group B ready we take our positions, and jump. Immediatley swimming towards the spotter, looking for the raised arm. Then a glimpse of something.

It's huge. I mean, without the boat, being in the water with this fish is like getting out of the jeep on an African safari to stroll 10 feet from a giraffe. And it looked so lazy and relaxed -- just a casual swish of its tail and no matter how fast I snorkelled, there was no way to keep up. We tried, until my thigh cramped and I almost swam through somebody else's vomit (did we mention that it was pretty rough water?), but all too soon, he was out of sight. Then the boat came around, we hauled ourselves out, they raced ahead of the shark and dropped us back in for another go.

It was on the third entry that it happened. I was snorkelling towards the spotter, planning to head down the other side of the shark, when he took a lazy 10 degree turn and when I looked back in the water...I was staring straight into a 6 foot wide mouth. Now, I know he wasn't planning to hunt me down or anything, but I could see that if I happened to get sucked in, it might just be me and Jonah for the next few months. I quickly vacated that slightly warmer, yellower patch of sea, and barely got any pictures at all on that pass. One that I did get, though, has Kristin just visible on the surface behind him. Hopefully this will put it in perspective.




We were lucky to have such a good swim -- sometimes the shark dives right away and you only get a few minutes "on the shark." The industry average (yes, they keep stats) is about 8-9 minutes, and we stretched our hour to the breaking point. It was great. It was humbling. It was so exhausting that, upon returning the caravan park, I barely had enough energy to beat Kris at cribbage. We even turned off NCIS in the middle, so you know we were tired.

Besides, tomorrow was another big day!

Monday 12 May

After a restless night of being worried to sleep with my mouth open, in case a cockroach crawled in there (Nathan confessed to thinking about the same urban legend all night--so at least it was a snore-free evening), we woke early.

As usual in Western Australia, the weather was gorgeous. We decided to go for a run and get a layout of the town. As the main highway looked dreary, we headed down a side track heading for the beach. We ran past the town golf course--black sand greens and grass optional. Then over a rise to the beach. He ran on the beach, I stayed on the path, and he still beat me back to the hotel.

After checking out of the Pot Shot Roach Motel, our goal for Monday was to plan the rest of our time in Exmouth. For those of you who know us, making decisions is usually the hardest part of any travel, we prefer serendipity. But we had so many things we wanted to do, it would require a schedule. With a quick stop at the internet cafe, we were able to find the dive shop we wanted. After scheduling 5 dives and a whaleshark tour, then finding a place to stay for the night that didn't include roaches free of charge, our wallets were feeling a little lighter and we decided to search for some free entertainment.

We hopped in the car to head to Cape Range National Park. On the way, we passed a the Howard Holt Naval Communications Station. The Naval Communications Station was built by the US in the 70s, using very low frequency radio transmission to contact submarines. The station used to hold 3000 americans to build and staff the towers. The town of Exmouth sprung up as an off-base site for grocery shops, family homes, and bars. Although the US soldiers eventually left and the base was tenanted by the Australian Federal Police, the US still owns the naval station. After 9/11, 500 soldiers dropped in to check on "their station."
Without the Naval Station, its entirely possible that some of the most beautiful coastline in Australia, with an amazing natural coral reef just off shore, might have remained totally unappreciated and unvisited by all but a few.

From the naval station, we stopped by the Turtle center where every November turtles come to lay there eggs on shore, then leave the nests untended to return to the sea. Visitors and researchers come to watch over the nests, before the baby turtles return to the sea in March. In May, however, there wasn't much to see but rocky coastline and turqoise water. Our drive also takes us past a low bushland filled with large red mounds. These 6 foot high termite mounds. The termites feed on a spinifex (a prickly Australian bush grass). Nathan, the biology geek, goes crazy with his camera. I have spared you.

Finally, we arrive at Cape Range National Park and drive to the visitor's center to find out about the good snorkelling spots on the Ningaloo Reef. Where we meet one a real rarity--a surly Australian National Parks employee. Australians are amazingly friendly people--but very egalitarian. As a waiter or waitress, they don't see their job to suck up to you...just to bring you the food, so occasionally an Austrlian in a service role will do their job--and nothing more. This, however, was beyond the lack of welcome to a real sense of being inconvenienced and annoyed by our waiting at the information desk.

After asking about snorkel spots, we are abruptly pointed to a book with a few maps. The maps contain clauses about dangerous currents which are a little unsettling. Nathan asks questions about how strong the currents are, how experienced a swimmer do you have to be? After several terse answers that "our safety is our responsibility", and "we have been warned", we head with some annoyance and trepidation to Turquoise Bay.

On one side of the Bay is a highly recommended drift snorkel, which has warning signs about rip tides and sharks, on the other a calm pool. With words of doom echoing in our heads, we opt for the safe snorkel and see an amazing amount of marine life--Brain coral, giant clams, nudibranchs, schools of vibrantly colored tropical fish. After drying out on the beach, we chatted to another American visitor who encouraged us to take the drift dive with the sharks. But, we didn't. "We have lots of time to come back and try the drift snorkel." (yeah right).

Heading back to our chalet, (that's what the caravan park calls our trailer house with no bathroom) we settled into a quiet night drying our tent and sleeping bags, Nathan LOSING at cribbage, and heading to bed for an early start for whalesharking at 7 am.

TOMORROW: Swimming with Whalesharks

...there's nothing like an ellipsis to create suspense, huh?
That, and a day off .
Good guess, Todd, but really I was just trying to heighten the tension. In actuality, our situation in the morning, waking on the top of Eagle Bluff was...
...damp.
The forecast was dry, so an astute observer would have noted that our tent did not have the rain fly on it. It didn't rain, nor did it gust or anything. Instead, there was perhaps a world record-setting dew, which dripped and dropped in the tent all night long, leaving us with a cup or more of fresh water, and our sleeping bags, well...
...damp.

That didn't stop us from enjoying the sunrise, waving goodbye to the jumping fish, and setting out for Monkey Mia. This resort has made a name for itself by having wild dolphins who, in addition to hunting, get something like 20% of their diet from people on the beach feeding them, so show up quite regularly. Like, three-times-a-day regularly.
I was set up for disappointment. I was ready for a half-assed SeaWorld type show, which would never be quite as professional as what I hoped for. Maybe that was why I was pleasantly surprised by the intimate gathering of 15-20 tourists at the water's edge as the dolphins came in for their feed and we were knee-deep with 4 adult females and numerous smaller young for 20-30 minutes of sincere discussion of feeding and breeding of dolphins in Shark Bay.

It was very pleasant, and capped by some pelican antics as they played in the sprinkler, which made my morning.


Very efficeint, too, as we were off to Eagle Bluff to spot some manta rays from on top of a cliff, shell beach (a 3 mile-long beach made up of shells...and only shells, some 30 feet deep and so compact in places that they cut it up for bricks),

and then on to the (drum roll)
STROMATALITES!
Excuse me for shouting, but this is something that I find pretty cool, but have to make a big deal out of, since they don't make a big deal out of themselves. We are talking about an accumulation of organisms that first changed the earth from hostile environment, incapable of nurturing an organism anywhere as complex as an amoeba, to an oxygen-rich environment capable of sustaining quite remarkable forms of life, like Sidney Crosby or David Attenborough.
This is it. These are what those very first organisms were, 1.9 billion years ago (or 693,500,000,000 days), and without whom we may all be breathing methane and complaining of global cooling.

True, they are uninspiring in aspect. Kris calls them "Blob Rocks" and is something of an expert herself, as she has been dragged to 3 of the 5 sites where they are currently active in W.A. Of course, "active" stromatalites is something of a misnomer. Kind of like an "active" legistlator -- mostly just taking in food and eliminating waste products. In the case of the stromatalites, though, they take in sunlight and eliminate oxygen, unlike our senators who take in all sorts of perks and eliminate, well, crap.
I think they're cool, anyway.
It was all downhill from there.
A long drive to Exmouth, where we arrived at about 7:30, when all but 2 places that offer accomodation were closed. Pause for effect. In a town that lives on tourism, only 2 hotel reception desks were still open at 7:30pm. And we chose the one that offered us a choice of monastic brick cells, an overpriced restaurant, and at least 5 cockroaches. I don't know how many we didn't spot, which is what kept me up at night.
Exmouth has got to get better...right?

Tomorrow: Exmouth, snorkelling, and the search for a roach-free motel

Saturday, May 10th

So we wake up early(ish), and look out over a perfectly still harbor just across the road. The fishing boats are in, catching the morning light in spectacular fashion. I have to paint a word picture, as the photos that I took on the old film camera of this are not yet back, but will be posted if they turned out. We did go for a short run, but didn't want to ruin the day by being too sore! After a quick tour through the Shark Bay interpretive centre to get our physical and historical perspective, we jumped in the car to head out to Francois Peron National Park.
Now, when an Australian road is closed to even 4WD, you know that something dramatic has happened. That, unfortunately for us, described the road that we intended to travel. Instead, we went out to one of the more remote beaches where we marvelled at the turqoise water, the backwards-seeming kangaroo tracks where the impression from the front feet is behind the rear feet and tail, and a stone that looked to be a dog-headed scepter left over from previous civilizations. Knowing that it was a remote beach, though, we should maybe have been a little more circumspect when approaching some of the campers.
You see, they had a very impressive tow-behind camper, here in the rugged outback where some 4WD vehicles were unable to get to, and it unfolded in an ingenious demonstration of live-aboard oragami. It was only after we waved and started talking to them that we realised that they were naked. They were very polite. Just...nude. Kind of offputting. We strolled off casually to show that we were relaxed and cool people, but did not, even once, look back.
We explored the limits of the russet dirt road, ending up at a lagoon where we promised ourselves we would return -- someday -- with a kayak. Cleverly named Big Lagoon was big, and lagoony, but had the feature of being protected enough to entice big sea turtles (which we saw) and dugongs (which remain mythical, as far as I'm concerned).
From here, it was a long, bumpy ride back to the main road, and down to where we had registered for a free camp site at a place called Eagle Bluff. This was easily the highlight of the day, arriving about an hour before sunset at a completely deserted stretch of coast where we watched the birds until the light was gone.
Just as the sun dipped below the horizon, we started hearing splashes from the bay below. It didn't take long for me to realize that there was a giant school of fish, just offshore...and I didn't have anything to catch them with. Not even a hook and some twine. No dynamite or nuthin'. I spent over an hour trying to catch them with the only thing I had -- my camera. Hopefully to be added in a photo gallery will be at least one lucky snap of a leaping Taylor silhoutted by the setting sun. Fingers crossed.
We took some REI catalog-style pictures of our tent perched on the bluff, marvelled at our luck in having such a beautiful spot to ourselves, and cooked some burritos on the new stove. I don't know if any of you have had the experience of trying to use one of the ultralight backpacking stoves, but the one that we didn't bring is this unstable contraption that not only is prone to dumping your food all over, but the only thing that keeps the cannister of highly flammable stove fuel away from the flames is a sheet of really thick aluminum foil. It is not a utensil which inspires confidence, and lighting it requires a full college engineering course.
With that in mind, imagine my glee when, upon turning the knob on the new stove, it just lit. Just like that. We didn't spill any food, the wind didn't blow out the flame, the water boiled in about 30 seconds (very important for morning coffee), and -- this is the really important bit -- at no time did I feel as though it might explode and leave me with a lifetime of explaining why I had no eyebrows.
As we retired, tickled by how easy this new stove would make our camping trips and belching salsa fumes, I settled in to win handily at cribbage and fall asleep, little knowing what the night would hold...

Friday 9 May--Dongara to Denham

Waking in the Priory Hotel after 10 blissful hours of holiday rest (with visions of skimpies dancing in our heads), Nathan and I rose to explore Dongara/Port Dennison. These 2 towns divided by the Irwin River have merged to become the LOBSTER capital of the world. With this in mind, we went in search of the crawfish/lobster factory, which featured tours (and I hoped free tastings). But alas, the tours were no longer available to the public and Nathan and I settled for scones and coffee from the Port Store in Port Dennison. With a little coffee, Nathan was ready for playtime.

We wandered the marina, learning about the hundreds of shipwrecks that litter this part of the Australian coast. The sea floor is mostly sand--so the water is an amazing turquise colour, luring sailors into the hidden reefs that dot the coastline. The whole coast is named the Batavia coast after its most famous shipwreck, and really there are too many less notable wrecks to count.

Not all of the water is so beautiful, as we discovered the river estuary had turned the water into a less than appealing sewage colour. For some reason, this part of the town didn't make the brochures.

From there we explored the streets lined with 100 year old figs. With about 6 shops total, Nathan and I managed 3 major shopping purchases.

1) a new camp stove (we forgot a peice of our backpacking stove in the US).
2) a guide to free camping in WA, including our next destination
3) 2 books for the trip--in our hurry to leave, we hadn't packed junk fiction. This is unacceptable for a vacation.

With these essential purchases made, we hit the road. Just up the coast is Geraldton, where we stopped at the HMAS Sydney memorial. This ship lost 645 crew in a battle with a German boat in WWII. For the last 60 years, the location of both wrecks has been a hotly debated mystery. Then just weeks ago, the wreck of the HMAS Sydney was discovered. We agreed it would be a perfect time to visit Geraldton's famous memorial. The names are listed in black granite, a woman waits looking out to sea, and 645 silver seagulls arc over the memorial site.

Our next destination was a highpoint--a visit to the Hutt River Province. The Principality of the Hutt River Province seceded from Australia on the 21 Day April 1970. Rebelling after the control of wheat prices, this farmer on a large station in Western Australia, filed the necessary paperwork to become an internationally recognized principality. After buying numerous souveneirs, Prince Leonard graced us with a royal audience, and this message for Gretchen in Minnesota.




After the thrill of meeting royalty, the next 4 hours of travel zoomed by. We arrived in Denham (Shark Bay World Heritage Site) at 8:15--about 15 minutes after every restaurant in town closed. The proprietor at the Bay Lodge called the pub and got the cook to agree to stay late for us--but the only thing still on the menu when we arrived was.....fish and chips.

Following dinner, we decided to walk off 2 days worth of fish and chips along the waterfront. We didn't get far before discovering that Denham was hosting its Fishing Fiesta, 5 days of fishing with all categories of competition. AND Nathan without his pole. He didn't forget it in our frantic packing, but it couldn't fit in his tiny 4X4 without becoming an obstacle to getting in the front seat.

Without his pole, Nathan did what all frustrated fisherfolk do--walked up to other people fishing and asked them what was biting, what sort of bait they had, the weight of line etc. This interrogation led to our introduction to Gavin a garrulous tree-loper from Mandurah (about 10 minutes from one of Nathan's clinics.) In 20 minutes of conversation well-lubricated by XXXX beer and fishing stories, we learned about Gavin's grandfather's fishing record, his years of marriage, relationship with his children, childhood vacations in Denham, and more. It was "mateship"--the casual bonding of Australians in just about any situation. And it wouldn't have happened without fishing interrogation, I'll never be able to tease Nathan about his questionning again.

We didn't really get our after-dinner walk in, so we waddled off to the Bay Lodge making plans to get up early to burn off double fish n chips with a morning run. Secretly, I thought "running on vacation? Ha!" but Nathan promised he'd get up early. "I will if you will," I bargained.

Tomorrow: Denham, Off roading in Francois Peron National Park, and our free camp site.

(Holiday Blogs delayed!) Thurs 8 May

Nathan and I just returned from a fantastic vacation in the North West of Australia. Rather than try to cram all the cool stuff from our holiday in one overly long Blog entry, we've decided to replay our holiday delayed by about 10 days.

Thursday 8 May--
Work was frantic (as always), but more so with our impending vacation and the fact that I had been sick for the days before. I had promised Nathan that we would hit the road by 4 pm. I told everyone else I needed to leave by noon, in the hopes that we might actually get out the door on time.

While I was scrambling to fit 10 days work in 8 hours (I went in at 6 am!) Nathan had the responsibility of preparing for our road trip. He had new tires, a car service, upgraded his broken CD player, and packed the car with the items I had set out the night before. (Unfortunately, we forgot to pack CDs so with no radio for most of the trip we brushed up on show tunes and hymns).

He began calling at noon (are you ready to go yet? no--by 2pm.) At 2 pm (are you ready to go yet? one more call.) At 2:45, I actually left work to finish off the packing still making calls to my admin Annie (who is a saint) on my cellphone all the way home. We quickly grabbed Jake (for a trip to the Kitty hotel) and began our vacation.

After dropping Jake off, we managed to just catch rush hour traffic on our way out of Perth. Finally at about 5:00 pm, we were outside of the city, heading North into the Australian bush. Within 45 minutes, we began to relax and realized neither of us had eaten anything all day. We made a quick stop at the GinGin Hotel for a beer and classic fish and chips. While waiting, we chatted with the locals who were amazed that we were planning to drive another 3 hours after dinner.

You see, kangaroos are a lot like deer. They come out at dusk and linger along the roadside, waiting to leap in front of your car, in mass suicide attempts. Unlike deer, kangaroo eyes do not reflect your headlights, so you can't actually see them until you are within about 50 m of your bumper. Driving at night becomes a video game--trying to avoid the roos, and still keep a reasonable average speed. Most Australian's don't drive past 5 pm, its too aggravating with the potential loss of property and life. That's one of the reasons the locals thought we were nuts to grab our dinner and head for the car.

BUT, Nathan and I have not lost our habits of a decade of roadtrips together, and carried on to Dongara/Port Dennison another 2.5 hours along the highway. Dongara/Port Dennison is a seaside town, planted with beautiful trees, dotted with classic Australian shops. But, you can't really appreciate any of that after dark, so we went directly to the Priory Lodge Historic Inn. It is limestone and brick, with deep verandas to give shade from the Australian sun. The Inn was built in 1881, serving as a hotel, then nunnery, then girls school, then hotel again..

With this colourful history, it was rather shocking to enter the bar and discover the barmaid in "skimpies." This colourful Australian term means she was just dressed in bra, underwear and high heels, serving beer to the patrons. I can only imagine what the nuns thought. (of course, the nuns might have been more troubled if the male bar staff had been required to dress in their underwear and high heels.)

So not lingering long in the bar, we made our way to a reasonable room (nothing fancy, but clean) to rest up for the rest of our big vacation.

Tomorrow-exploring the City, and a trip to Shark Bay and Denham.