8 itchy feet

Who knew Port Hedland was a place where you needed to book a caravan site?! Our first rejection! A bit of a google and a few phone calls later we had a spot in South Hedland. It seems most of the caravan park space in Port Hedland is used by BHP workers. We were told the median house price in town is $600k, which no doubt makes the van parks good value! We also missed out on doing a tour of the wharf facilities because you need to book it a few days out and we weren’t staying any longer than necessary. We satisfied ourselves with a visit to the harbour to see the huge ships and a stock up at the supermarket. Greg visited the bottle shop and was queued behind about 6 guys in work gear stocking up. The prices were very good on beer… Either it is subsidised or they just buy in such bulk it is cheap? Continue reading “Day 48-51 Into the Pilbara” →

Eighty Mile Beach. A vision splendid. Which is odd because there was nothing to see. To the west is the Indian Ocean and on the evening of the 20th August it was as still as a fish tank, with scarcely a whisper of a breeze to ruffle it’s surface. To the east, a sand dune no more than three to four metres tall, topped with low lying scrub stretches away and out of sight in both directions. In between is a beach which at low tide must be close to a kilometre across and at its steepest an incline of not more than one percent. In the sky there truly was not a cloud. So as you can see there was nothing to see and yet we could not look away as the sun slowly made its way down toward the horizon creating a vast palette of changing colours on the canvas of beach, sea and sky. Continue reading “Day 46-47 Eighty Mile Beach. A vision splendid” →

It was not without a tinge of sadness that we pulled out of Broome. Our seven nights there just seemed to drift by so quickly and we were settling into something of a routine. Perhaps it was because we had enjoyed Broome so much that we only managed to make it 123 km south before pulling up stumps on that driving caper. We hung a right off the Great Northern Highway for a quick jaunt on the dirt road into Barn Hill Station. Continue reading “Day 43-45 Barn Hill… Photographic Bewilderment” →