The first time we laid eyes upon St Paul’s Cathedral in London its dome was covered in scaffolding. The same building dais covered NY’s lady with the lamp, the Statue of Liberty, making pictures an impossibility on our first visit.

Similarly, in downtown Carnarvon the iconic fascine is fenced off with royalty for regions money supporting its reconstruction. We will have to come back!
Robinson street, Carnarvon’s main thoroughfare is still there, be it all reduced to a single piddling lane in each direction outside the old Port Hotel. The Gascoyne Hotel which once fronted the red dirt banks of the Gascoyne River, now abuts a new permanent yacht mooring area. Olivia Terrace is still there, so is Skipworth St. Even the famed pink house appears to still exist, although now painted in a fetching light baby blue.
Wintersun, our caravan park home for a few days, is a genuine oasis of manicured lawns and trees with plantations surrounding 3 sides.
Just up the road the once booming Haselbys general store is an abandoned wreck, forlornly painted in a once-only application of anaemic yellow undercoat.
Yesterday we travelled 323kms from Denham to this Gascoyne town via Hamelin Pool with its stromatolites (fawned over by the scientific communities as some kind of bacteria wonderland) but about as interesting as a visit to Wave Rock at Hyden.
Today we are looking forward to re-acquainting ourselves with many of the attractions on offer since we last holidayed here about 35 years ago.

And a message to the thousands of followers of this blog. The pictures are out of order. They are the wrong size, but if you click on them they come up to full screen size. That’s what becomes of part-time blogger’s; WordPress updates it’s procedures between holiday blogging exercises and for me it is always a new beginning. But rest assured, all will be well by weeks end at Carnarvon.

“I love her far horizons
I love her jewel-sea”
Dorothea Mackellar came readily to mind on the road to Denham.
Rolling plains as far as the eye can see and a lively, spirited jewel-sea
Arrived in Shark Bay and within an hour, more of a history lesson
The severely rusted hulk of an ancient anchor told the story of an 1880 Quebec built barque; originally Braidwood until a Norwegian bought her and renamed it Gudrun; and only after a comedy of errors in Fremantle involving the ships carpenter, (who drilled holes in the ships hull), was to sink in Shark Bay.
Foss, Denham’s local magistrate chap, salvaged and took possession of the ship’s beautiful bowsprit maiden and placed it in his front garden. Later, the Berry family of Carnarvon bought the wooden lassie and finally in 1967 Eric Berry gifted her to the WA Museum.
More reminiscing, it was over 50 years ago that I stayed at the Denham pub, then totally a corrugated iron structure which included single rooms clad in the galvanised building material.
Also today was the initiating of our new barbie and tomorrow Isabel celebrates another historic birthday milestone. Lots of historical moments.
And we’ve got 3 days in which to explore more of the big ‘D’ together with Hamelin Bay, Shell Beach and Monkey Mia.
Question:
Who was the parliamentary representative fjor Gascoyne 1974 until 1988?

Geraldton has produced its share of famous folk; Edith Cowan (first woman elected to an Australian parliament), Geoff Gallop, Lt.Gen John Sanderson 29th Governor of WA, Chris Mainwaring, writer Xavier Herbert and even Rove McManus’ wife Tasma all hail from this mid-west capital of 35,000 people.
But our afternoon in this busy port city belonged to the memory of 645 WWII Aussies sailors on the HMAS Sydney sunk by the German ship Kormoran off this coast in 1941, with all lives lost.
The Sydney memorial is a tribute to the original proponents who drove the vision and the designers who conceived the commemoratory structure.
A hilltop set of iconic monuments that gel into a powerfully simple tribute to the entombed sailors.
And tonight the sky is once again adorned with crimson tones while the gentle sea breeze whispers thru the sheoak trees. Red sky at night caravaners’ delight.
Sounds idyllic, but BOM says we are in for a possible thunderstorm tomorrow, so we plan to see Helen Mirren in Woman of Gold (?) at the local flicks.

Bugger!
Here we are in Jurien Bay on the very first day of our trip; and the caravan travelled all the way along the Indian Ocean Drive just like a Cadillac; solid as a rock.
At last I thought, a grey nomad in a caravan! Getting my own back! a grey nomad proclaiming “breaker! breaker! We’ve got a convoy!
But I jest.
All the silly young ones behind me didn’t chance passing, even on the overtaking lane. ( the old bloke in the caddy was doing just over a ton on the inside lane.
However, we are only 220 clicks up the road because at 9.30 this morning after attaching the myriad of shackles and wires I must’ve jack-knifed the van backing up and severely cut the electric cables.
What a bugger!
But, the RAC to the rescue and after a torturous 2 hours the mechanic in blue declared we were ready to go (and how jealous he was and how he wished it was he)
Our dinner of Isabel’s fabulous meat pies with mash and veg went down a treat after a quick sojourn to the beach at sunset. Just after 8 and our brass band tracks are playing thru the speakers and not interfering with a caravan park full of young families — who appeared to have all fallen asleep.
So early!

 

Once you have viewed Western Australia’s  north-west motel accommodation sites, you determine that to tour the top-end, your own top of the range caravan is what you require to traverse the Pilbara and Kimberley regions of WA.

So, with a little reluctance and foreboding you hesitantly enter the arena of ‘whiteys’  old folk caravanning excellence;  Jayco, George Day, eBay or Gumtree; take your pick!

Now I must admit we could have ended up in a Jayco Penquin (cheap arse-end of the caravaners’ nirvana!) for the sales rep insisted upon sitting in this Antarctic bird-trap flyscreened boxcar, bitching about whitey caravan buyers. Alas for Jayco, Henry the mustachio’d  laconic kiwi salesman at the George Day camp saved us from the schlemiel boxcar salesman and we soon had the bells and whistles of a New Age.

     

However, ‘New Age’ has become an euphemism for the dreaded ‘W ‘ word in catering—don’t let on it is a wedding you are planning the catering for—. The dawn of a new age of wallet letting has begun. Handing over of the newly purchased George Day caravan is soon hand-balled to a brusque non-descript, who effectively undoes the brilliance of Henry the salesman and quickly handballs us to Geoffrey the tractor driving yardman/handyman.

 

Geoffrey is a top flight bloke; largely beset by the George Day employed brusque non-descript, who by now has completely abandoned the wallet letting whiteys to their handover nightmare. Nice yardman Geoffrey advises we need to add a Hayman Reese set of sway bars and levelling kit for the sprightly Falcon with its measly 70k on the speedo . Tally to date: over 50 grand, $740 for levelling kit, $1560 for electric brakes and new tow bar on the car, a days wait for the new birth and the new age spending clock has begun ticking.

Blow the cost, let’s head for Mandurah as a shake down weekend away. Lovely caravan park, terrific weekend and idyllic conditions for the local ducks who enjoyed the copious water leak spewing from the brass hose connections to the new age van. Then back home to find an oil like leak spewing from the brand new caravan wheels. After only one week, off to the warranty repairer and (with hand firmly holding the wallet) quietly ask for a price on a rear view camera on the van along with the installation of a gas bayonet for the humble BBQ.

Answer: keep the new age wallet closed and shop around.

 

 

 

 

 

A big hello and a hug for Roma Daisy Laurance born on March the 6th in Melbourne; a brand new sister for Frankie Siena (33 months) and Quin Poppy (18 months) and all living with their mum and dad Jas and Stu in the big house on High St, Northcote in Victoria.

The original plan was always to develop the High St property as a child care centre; never imagining for a moment that the first enrolees would all have the same family name.

Isabel and I are finally packing it in.

We are cutting loose from nearly 50 years of suburbia and going bush; packing it all into a 16′ caravan and joining the army of roamin’ retirees around Australia, who enjoy getting together every night at 5 o’clock,  (ostensibly to compare travel notes)

What a wrench! Abandoning Italian lessons,  Pinot Gris and Grigio,  haggis and tatty scones, French baguettes,  the mastery of driving on the wrong side of the road — and tackling the Pilbara, the Kimberley,  the top-end and beyond.

 

 

Do think of us as we park our swag down by the billabong, ever hopeful of a jolly jumbuck happening by to shove on the barbie. Of Aerogard, red-earth gorges, stubby holders, fly nets, crocodiles, thongs, golden sunsets, king browns and yarning with the 5 o’clock visitors.

Dinner last night at the restaurant at nearby Cloud 19 resort

Our local beach, but why bother when there’s a pool actually on the beach?

Sadly we leave here after breakfast tomorrow, flying Phuket to KL where we have two nights at the airport hotel because Air Asia cancelled our Sunday flight and put us on a Monday job.
Confucius say… people having gift of gab, not know how to wrap it up.