The Wet South-West

  Esperance, Western Australia, Australia
Thursday, November 13, 2008

What I love most about camping is the light creeping in at dawn; the early morning bird song; opening my eyes and peering through the mesh at the sun rising in the pale blue sky; slipping outside to make coffee and relish the stillness.

 Unfortunately it's absolutely nothing like that right now in the south west of Aus... every tent zip is secured against wind and rain, also barring all light; I'm more likely to be awoken by raindrops on canvas or the wind bending the poles; and it takes ages to wriggle out of my tight-fitting sleeping bag as I'm swathed in layers of thermals and a woolly hat.  I had thought it would have warmed up here by now, it being almost summer!

I feel almost guilty about this, but the Southwest, about which so many people rave, hasn't really done much for me at all.  It's a region of clean fresh air, green and yellow farms, forests of ferns and giant trees, untouched coastal scenery, wineries and breweries,  gourmet cheese, chocolate and ice-cream producers... what's not to like?, you'd think.   Had I arrived here from a busy life in a busy city, I would no doubt be utterly charmed.  But after weeks being spoiled by the extremes of the north and northwest it all seems very tame - I feel I've left behind the Australia of my fantasies.  Added to which the grey skies and drizzle are too much like home and are playing havoc with my sinuses.

Mick's tail pointing to our location

No contrasting blue skies and red earth, just bland green and grey.  No towering rock walls and plunging gorges, just flattish farmland and crowded woods.  No exotic lizards ambling across the road, just hundreds of sheep munching grass.  No corrugated tracks with creek crossings, just miles of smooth dark bitumen.  It's all very 'pleasant', but, after the north, all very dull.  The Kimberely constantly excited my senses and made me feel vibrantly alive, while this environment anaesthetises them and makes me feel suffocated.  I'm sure it's much better in the sunshine!

Bridgetown

The one real highlight of the area was not featured in our guidebook and hadn't been recommended by any of our fellow travellers but, for me, was one of the loveliest towns I've visited in Australia.  Weeks ago, watching sunset over Cable Beach in Broome, we got chatting to a nice, friendly guy , Wayne, who invited us to visit him in Bridgetown, should we venture that way.  Which is how we stumbled on this wee country town of well-preserved old buildings, gorgeous flower-filled gardens, and a pretty riverside set among rolling hills.  We chatted to a few locals over a cheap meal and a couple of beers in an atmospheric old pub and learned that the town lies at the end of an important mother songline, hence its powerful female energy.

Wayne & Mick

Father Wayne is the parish priest and, after mass the next morning, we had coffee with him and viewed the photos of his recent trip across the south of the country, much of which ground we are about to cover ourselves.  It was great to catch up with him again and hear about his adventures, and we came away with some handy tips for our next few days.

We finished off with a visit to 'The Cidery', chatting with more welcoming locals, as John sampled the apple brews while I opted for the ales, including an award-winning 'Irish Red Ale' which deserved every accolade it received.  (I had to avoid the cider - it was the stuff on which I learned to drink, many moons ago, before I appreciated my limits, and even a whiff of the stuff now makes my stomach churn!).

A wonderful little town, but I couldn't live there... it's also known as 'Fridegetown' on account of it's winter temperatures... 

So now we are heading east in the hope of some warmth!