Our first major stop was The Pinnacles, in the Nambung National Park. Like eerie figures erupting from a desert wasteland, the Pinnacles are said by those indigenous to the area to be inhabited by evil spirits. And I see why, the creeping shadows of these natural phenomenon follow you around.These incredible towers of limestone have taken thousands of years to form in this vast, baking desert, made all the more breathtaking as they are surrounded by sapphire blue waters, sunburned sand and perfect blue skies. We followed around the tiny footprints of their inhabitants and then drove the camper over the sand dunes.
The next day saw us on the road to Kalbarri National Park, stopping off on route at coastal view points overlooking incredible cliff formations, each one more breathtaking than the next. Rich, terracotta stone reflected in the raging, turquoise waters at every turn.
This would be a pattern we would follow all the way up the coastline, like a game of top trumps with rocks, sea and sand, and where we were always the winners.
Australia is the driest, flattest, hottest and infertile of all the inhabited continents (only Antarctica is more hostile to life). The road through Kalbarri was the longest, straightest and most barren we had encountered so far and, again, this was a taster of what was to come. We walked to the deep, echoing gorges of 'Hawkshead' and 'Ross Graham' - extending as far as the eye could see.
Next, was a few days in the beautiful Shark Bay, where we got acquainted with our first emus, snakes and sharks. We camped at Eagle Bluff, right where the crystal blue waters lapped the bay of this World Heritage listed area.
In these clear waters we spotted sharks and rays, almost missing the big lizard and even bigger snake at our feet (thankfully, separated by a wooden barrier!). In our secluded spot (except for the emus and roos) with our own private beach, we pinched ourselves at how good life can be as we drank ice cold beer at sun down.
One of Shark Bay's main attractions is Monkey Mia. Some decades ago when Monkey Mia was just a hideaway for locals, families would feed a local pod of dolphins as they camped in the area. The dolphins, realising the benefits of the free food (who wouldn't?), hung around and before long things started to get a little carried away.
Today, Monkey Mia is regulated by the Department of Conservation and Environment and there are regulations in place to protect the dolphins who are still loyal to the beach. We snorkeled and swam and, while I was in the water, a group of dolphins swam over and started having a good old scratch on a boat's mooring rope.
The next morning was feeding time and, true to form, the friendly female dolphins and their young (they stopped feeding the males as they got too aggressive) came into the shallows. There was a one-week old calf in their midst and
we saw her tiny fin breaching throughout the morning. We sat back on the beach to watch them play by the shore. How are you going to trump this one, Western Australia?
The answer was Quobba (so many great place names in Oz!). A smiling Grey Nomad had recommended this little-known camp site by a deserted beach and huge blow hole.
We pulled up in a ghost town of corrugated iron huts (apparently summer houses for locals - as one of them, who called herself 'Spider', informed us) and drove further in to find out own camp spot by the never-ending beach. But the real treat was the snorkeling in 'The Aquarium', where hundreds of fish swam around us, taking us along in their whirlwind. Our new friend, Spider, showed us how to feed them with bit of bread, and they snapped it right out of our hands, both on the surface and underwater. But this was just a warm up to the next page of our adventure.
Coral Bay is at the heart of the Ningaloo Range (of which Quobba is just the start). The Ningaloo Reef, the 604,500 hectare marine of the Ningaloo Coast, is the largest fringe reef in the world and is greatly overshadowed by it's eastern brother, the Great Barrier.
Coral Bay is paradise. On one side, the land is barren and arid cattle country, where cows roam and truckers try to avoid hitting roos. On the other side, the water is the clearest you'll ever see, the beach is white and infinite and the shore-side reef, with its abundance of marine life, is one of the best snorkeling spots in the world.
It was certainly the best snorkeling we had ever experienced. There are so many turtles, fish, sharks and rays and the coral itself is spectacularly vast and beautiful. No matter how far out we swam, it didn't get any deeper or look like it was coming to an end. This was pure, unadulterated bliss. Here's hoping that the Ningaloo doesn't suffer the same perils of the Great Barrier. Nothing that perfect lasts forever.
Further up the Ningaloo coast lies the little town of Exmouth, and the Cape Range National Park. We camped in the park, beside beaches where turtles were in their nesting period. Med spent a day diving the Naval jetty (too expensive and difficult a dive for me, much to my misery), but the snorkeling was still good, seeing big turtles and black and white-tipped reef sharks.
We travelled on, this time heading inland to Karijini National Park, where the temperature was heating up and the flies were multiplying. Both the van and ourselves got coated in the stubborn red dust that is renowned in this remote, mining area of Australia, but it was well worth the scrubbing and rounds of laundry in the aftermath. Sadly we didn't get to climb Mount Bruce and Mount Sheila (real names, I promise!), but we did get to see Weano Gorge, which is dizzyingly deep and one of the oldest rock formations on earth.
When we could bear the heat no longer, we walked down into the depths of Dales Gorge until we found a waterfall and cool, freshwater pool. This was one of many pools in Karijini that are held sacred by the Aboriginal people, who believe they were made millions of years ago by huge serpents, much like the rest of the land formations.
In one of the pools, the fish nibbled at the hardened skin on my feet (caused by 3 months of wearing flip flops) - you'd pay good money for this at home! Hiking through and up the gorge was beautiful (and very sweaty) and we couldn't help but feel some of the spirituality the Aboriginal people cherish here. Now, it was off to the campsite in dingo territory...
Things heated up from then onwards, and so did our engine as we covered some serious ground through the outback over the next few days.
In Broome, we arrived on the world famous Cable Beach at 8.35am, only to call it a day by 9am as it was too hot! Normally, swimming is our salvation, but the waters up here are infested with dangerous jellyfish. In fact, Australia's (and therefore the world's, of course) most deadly sea creature is the box jellyfish - step aside, ye Great Whites.
Talking of deadly creatures, next, we were heading to croc territory. Big, sharp-toothed, man-hunting, salt water crocs, that is.
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