Small, strange, soggy towns

I know that the media has been full of the drought conditions in Western Australia ... and don't get me wrong, things are pretty dire here ... the dams are empty and the ploughed paddocks dusty and barren ... BUT boy! has it rained a lot in the last week or so.  I've been to lots of places and covered some serious kilometres and not a photo to show for it!  Albany? Margaret River? Dunsborough and surrounds?  Virtually nothing!  It was wet!  We seemed to spend a lot of our time looking for places out of the rain ... wineries, breweries, camp kitchens, more wineries, more breweries.  

A very friendly kookaburra adopted me when I walked to Beedelup Falls (don't tell anyone but Maggie was hidden in the van! Oh no! A dog in a National Park!)

All along the SW coast, we have been meeting the Bibbulmun Track, which is a walking trail from Perth to Albany, nearly 1000 kilometres.  This is its symbol.

Beedelup Falls ... nice but wet

Wet fungus

Beautiful wet Boranup Karri Forest, all dripping leaves and tall trees

Van Morrison is dwarfed by these amazing trees

The forecast kept being changed.  Unfortunately, the rain totals kept increasing ... 25 mm ... 30 mm ... 60 mm ... when they decided on 70 mm, we decided to run for an upmarket campsite with a huge camp kitchen, booking in for three nights.  It was the long weekend (WA Day!) so we expected it to be very busy ... but really it was just wet.

Canal Rocks, near Yallingup

I upgraded to a fenced site ... first time I've had one of those! I'm not sure who was being locked in - the dog or the van!

So after an under-whelming time in the Margaret River region, Phill and Liz went off to spend time with relatives and I headed inland and north.  Time to check out some new places.  My first stop was a free camp at Greenbushes.  

Camp at Greenbushes Pool - very cheeky magpies tried to eat Maggie's dinner!

Greenbushes Pool, a natural waterhole next to the camp, that was used for sluicing when they mined tin here

Schwenke's Dam, a historical mining pit that has been rehabilitated into a vibrant wetlands

Greenbushes is a very strange little town.  It did have a pub and a general store/petrol station but didn't seem to have any people.  None.  Not even a dog on the street.  Maggie and I walked there from our campsite (along part of the Bibbulmun Track) and met no-one.  We even walked past a totally silent primary school.  Nothing.  Perhaps they were all up at the massive lithium mine which was on the edge of the town.

Leaving Greenbushes, I next headed to Quindanning, where there was free camping as long as you bought a meal at the pub.  It was a lovely drive (not too wet) through some beautiful state forests (full of baits - sorry, Maggie) and then back to farmland, mines and the endless paddocks ploughed ready for wheat.

Cool mural on the wall of the Collie Mine Workers Institute 

The colour of the gums was beautiful

So ... my stay at the Ye Olde Quindanning Inne (or Ye Olde English Taverne) ... almost as good as Farrell Flat!  I probably should have guessed that it would be a bit different from its name (or names).  As a free camp, it was fine (it even offered showers) and everything seemed quite normal until about 4pm when everyone started arriving.  Maggie and I did not fit in.  For a start, we weren't wearing hi vis.  Also, we were female.  And finally, I was enjoying a glass of red.  Yep!  This was where all the alumina mine workers came when their shift was over ... and I was lucky to be there on the changeover day.  As one of my new hi vis pals told me, "twelve f@#$in' days on for five f@#$in' days off makes you f@#$in' dry".  "Too f@#$in' right" said another, "but I'm f@#$in' paid f@#$in' heaps!".  Which they all then proceded to drink away!

But it didn't stop there.  The owner apologised to me and said he hoped I wouldn't be offended but it was Skinny Night.  No!  Nothing to do with me carrying a few extra pounds (damn those breweries!) - it was because the poor barmaid came out showing A LOT of skin.  She walked around, dressed in a G-string, suspender belt and some tattoos, and looking very cold.   Hmmmm.  A very strange place - I'm not sure there was anything Ye Olde about it ... and I think the English would be mightily surprised!

Even the utes were in hi vis ... and with radioactive containers on the back!

Just a small aside ... I think there is a negative correlation between distance from the coast and standard of the coffee.  I have been given some of the worst coffee in my life over the last few days.  Undrinkable!  

Beverley Roads Board Office

Sounds like fun - pity I'll miss it.

Pingelly Roads Board Office

View of York - York and Beverley lie in the Avon Valley, first sighted by European explorers in 1830 and settled in 1831

The York Town Hall

On to Wannamal - this was a delightful little free camp with a bbq and flushing toilets ... and Les.  Despite the signs saying that you were only allowed to spend 24 hours there, Les seemed to be a bit of a fixture.  We had a good chat about the state of the nation and he told me all of his favourite free camps (including the access codes to the amenities ... C4568 for Three Springs if you're interested) before sharing his story.  I keep meeting lovely people all along the road who are now homeless (or houseless as Les said - his van is his home) through no real fault of their own.  In Les' case, it was a series of health problems that made him houseless (and lost him most of his family too) and he can't see any way to change this.  

There was a walk around the historic settlement of Wannamal.  There is nothing left, no houses, no sheds, no school - just a rotting footbridge and some signs saying where all the buildings used to be.  AND an enormous state-of-the-art sports ground and complex.  Why?  Who for?  

I decided to go to New Norcia, a Benedictine monastery town that was first established in the 1840s for the purpose of prayer and meditation, but also for the conversion and education of Aboriginal children.  It later became famous (or more accurately, infamous) for the systemic abuse of children in the 1960s.  I was interested to see how they addressed this.  The easy answer is ... they didn't.  I went to the museum and art gallery and talked with the guide.  He said he had no details of anything and the only mention I could find was on the top floor where a sign said that the church "regrets not addressing concerns at the time they were made".  Not exactly taking responsibility for things.  

An artwork by Warwick Thornton, who was educated at New Norcia

Portraits of monks from the 1870s - a rather grumpy looking lot, it seemed to me.

I stopped for the night at Dandaragan - I'm heading up to Cervantes to meet up with Phill and Liz again.  It's raining again and very windy so I was thrilled to be told that the Dandaragan Heritage & Cultural Centre were putting on a meal in the footy club rooms after the little league practice session.  Real food and I was dry and warm.  Numbers were down, they told me, because everyone was sowing seeds like mad, trying to take advantage of the rain.

#Keep The Sheep - evidently a movement against the Federal Government's decision to ban live sheep exports.  I was a bit confused to start off with, since it seems to me that the ban WILL keep the sheep.  Perhaps #Ship The Sheep might have been less ambiguous.

It's still raining.