Go West!

 
November 30th – December 1st

Monday morning, and once again not a single cloud dares to interrupt the impossibly blue sky. A perfect day to start a road trip. We are heading down the coast to the south-west tip of Australia, but have a few days to play with so there will be plenty of stopping off along the way. Once out of Perth the landscape is parched and the dead straight road is dotted with several bland surburban towns – though their seafront location makes them popular with young families and retirees. The largest is Bunbury, where you can take a boat to see dolphins and migrating whales, but we are too late., so make do with lunch overlooking the turquoise water, fine white sands and a guy taking time out to perfect his waterskiing skills.

We move on to Busselton – named for the Bussels, one of the founding English families in the area back in 1830 – where the Rough Guide has promised us the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere and the chance to view marine life 8m under the water from an observation post at the end of the pier. Once again we are thwarted. The jetty is undergoing reconstruction and there is a kilometre gap between the end of the truncated pier and the observation post now marooned at sea. The sun is still shining, but it’s blowing a gale as we watch three swimmers practising for the coming weekend’s ironman competition. The seagulls are having difficulty flying against the wind, but somehow the swimmers make progress against both the wind and the incoming tide.

We drive on and watch the landscape change as the miles roll by. The trees become thicker and greener – and signposts to wineries off the main road become commonplace. Margaret River is our destination, and out of season we easily find a huge modern apartment to call home for the next three nights.

Margaret River was apparently named for the English fiancé of an early settler – he failed in his attempt to lure her to a new world by naming a river after her, but the town’s name was set in stone. Today it is the centre of Western Australia’s wine region, but remains more of a village than a town. And our hopes of fine wine and fine dining are dashed on our first evening, as most of the restaurants close on Monday. We eventually find “The Spaghetti Bowl”, which turns out to be a good candidate for a Gordon Ramsey makeover, but we are happy enough to be fed that night, when the food eventually arrives.

Margaret River is our base to tour the SW Cape area – from Cape Naturaliste in the North to Cape Leeuwin in the South. On Tuesday we head north again towards Cape Naturaliste. As well as wine, the region is known as an artistic community, so we stop at various galleries along the way, admiring pieces we can’t afford to buy, and could never ship home even if we could. My favourite is a furniture workshop, with opulent and tactile tables hewn from planks of polished timber completely different to any seen in Europe or America. These are the Karri, Jarrah and Marri trees that predominate in ancient forests in the region. While Jarrah is similar in colour to mahogany – but with a completely different grain – Karri is much lighter in tone, mixing pinks, greys and pale coffee colours. I can’t help stroking the tables in admiration.

An aboriginal cultural centre offers a completely different experience. This small museum tells the story of aborigine life in the region since the arrival of Europeans in 1829. Aboriginal lore describes dead ancestors as light skinned, so the first Europeans were honoured and shown the best lands and hunting grounds – which they soon took as their own. While one or two aboriginal families managed to co-exist, most native people – who had previously known how to cherish their lands and reap the best from it over six seasons of the year – were sidelined, with many banned from coming into European townships. Worse was to come, with many herded away from their precious lands into missions, and with lighter-skinned children forcibly taken for adoption or to work in service to European families. Interestingly, aboriginal studies are now compulsory in WA schools at both primary and secondary level, and the centre plays host to several local schools throughout the year. And the Bibelman Track, one of the aborigine’s best known trading tracks through the region is still in existence – though now serves as a hiking trail.

We had lunch at Bunker’s Bay Café – described by the Rough Guide as the best seaside location in the world, and this pristine crescent moon beach is certainly one of them. Robin was hoping for a dip in the turquoise Indian Ocean but dipping a toe in was enough to show that a wetsuit was needed. Right on cue the surfers came down – in their wetsuits – followed by a couple dressed in white and heading for the flower strewn table and two chairs laid out for their wedding. If only they’d arrived an hour earlier, they would have had the beach to themselves.

We headed a couple of kilometres up the road to the northern cape lighthouse at Cape Naturaliste, and walked down to the whale watching lookout. Apparently this stretch of water is a resting point for whales heading back to the Antarctic. We were right at the end of the migration season and didn’t see any – though a Belgian couple at the look at the same time as us swore they saw one breaching the water.

It’s been a fairly overcast day, but driving back the sun is out and the quality of the light is absolutely wonderful. No wonder artists flock here, as they do to Cornwall. Is it something to do with the south west of a country? I’m not sure, but I do know the light is amazingly pure.