Hi there,

For those of you arriving late to this intrepid family journey through the heart of Australia, you may like to start reading at the beginning. Unfortunately, Blogger organises posts with those most recently created appearing first. So, if you jump in at the top, you're not going to get the full experience of this gritty blow-by-blow account of our adventure. As such, I suggest using the navigation window above and head down to March, where the first part of this journey began. Hopefully, by the end, you’ll be hooked. From there you can scroll upwards to continue the journey. I can’t wait to see how it turns out!

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Friday 28 December 2018

Hamelin Station (1): Sand, Songs and Stromatolites


 

Date:
01-03/06/2017
Location:
Hamelin Station (Western Australia)
Distance Travelled:
224 km
Temperature:
Min:
9.1
 
Max:
19.7
Raucous nights of singing
3

 
Waking up in our brief stopover destination of Carnarvon, before we could move on we had a few matters that we had to deal with our house in Melbourne. Nothing too drastic, but something that couldn’t wait. Perhaps I’ll do a blog post on the joys and sorrows of renting your house out via AirBNB in a future post. But for now, I’m not sure about where I would stand legally by defaming our most recent tenant. Perhaps I’ll check with a lawyer and get back you…
In a nutshell, the morning was eaten up by dealing with the aftermath of this person leaving our home (and the shocking discovery that there was cat hair and cat faeces throughout our home… not to mention a broken clothes dryer and rubbish strewn with abandon everywhere. Oh, what a sad and disappointing end to an otherwise good experience of letting our home out through AirBNB).

Having put in a complaint to AirBNB and sent a message to our previous tenant requesting additional payment for extra cleaning expenses (oh, and a new clothes dryer would be nice too…), we finally turned our attention to packing up the camper trailer. Having been at this lark for over three months, we were pretty much dab hands at stripping beds, folding down cupboards, coiling up water and waste hoses, wrapping up power cables, removing doors, secreting tables and all manner of other paraphernalia, sliding away beds, collapsing roofs, and our hitching trailer onto the car. In the end, all that was left was for Nat and I to have our showers, change out of our sweaty pack-up clothes, and jump in the car – before heading off to new destination.
And today, our new destination was a lovely spot called Hamelin station. We trundled out of the Carnarvon caravan park and the boys and I moseyed down the road to the One Mile Jetty, while Nat hit local supermarket. Having stored away the perishables in the trailer’s little fridge, we set up out a table in the waste ground across the road from Woolworths and put together half a dozen sausage, sauce, cheese and salad rolls for lunch. There were eight or nine other vans and trailers pulled up alongside us – and everyone was jealous of these buns filled to the brim with left over sausages and salad.
With the trailer and our bellies filled, we hopped back in the car and took off down the road southwards. It felt incredibly strange to be moving in this direction, as the sky seemed to bleed with a strange sight we hadn’t encountered for over three and a half months – that is, clouds (at least, I think I remember that is what they are called?!?). Yup, for the first time in more than a quarter of a year, we had not been able to see the sun due to gathering clouds.
“Bugger, we’re not far from home now, are we?” I said plaintively to Nat.
“Nope” she replied (as I imagined a small filmy tear creeping into her eye). “Nope…”
Still, two weeks is a long time to cram in a whole lot of fun. So, lets pack away the thought that we’re on our homeward journey – and focus every ounce of our attention upon living on the open road!! Hazzarh!
A few hours down the highway, with the third book of the Narnia series “A horse and his boy" blaring out through the car speakers, we drew closer to the Shark Bay World Heritage site. Here we would find a home for the next few days, in a place we would come to never really want to leave; Hamelin Station.


 
 
 
Arriving at Shark Bay and Hamelin Station
 
 
Arriving at Hamelin station in the middle of the afternoon, we were gobsmacked by how beautiful this place was. In our minds, we were instantly transported back to Bullara Station – but with a slightly less rustic feel and much more modern facilities. Sure, there was no Damper John in residence, but as we would find out later that night there was an even richer tapestry of song to be sung during out stay here.
 

Pulling into the station, we followed a white crushed shell driveway towards the main campsite. The driveway meandered its way through low bright green shrubs and dark orange earth. As with many places on this whirlwind adventure, the stark contrast between colours was striking. We parked outside the reception and found that we were allocated site Number One. This was not only right next to the communal fire pit, but also just a stone’s throw from the kitchen, toilets and laundry. What more could a weary traveller need?
 


 

Hamelin Station


Being somewhat late in the afternoon, Nat was keen to get us moving so that she could show us a spot she had been keeping secret from us until we had arrived. Hopping back in the car, we made our way through the property, back to the main road. Turning left, we took a drive down towards the sea and stopped in what seemed to be an unremarkable carpark. Hopping out, we made our way over some small sand dunes, where we saw a magical site. Stromatolites!

Now, for those of you who aren’t as familiar as David Attenborough with about the marine life off the coast of Australia – then, let me tell you a little about stromatolites. To the untrained eye, these appear as just like little commonplace tufts of rock sticking up out of the seafoam – but in fact, these are living, breathing (well, respiring at least) creatures. Perhaps they may not be creatures in the sense that most people think of when they hear that word – but, if one transports one’s mind to think along the lines or coral – a mass of small creatures huddled together for safety and protection – then, you’re getting closer. In this hypersaline lagoon, masses of bacteria congregate together and extract what they need to live from the waters that gently buffet the shore. When enough of these bacteria clump together, they cling on to one another and form what’s known as a microbial mat. Some of these clumps, in turn, form a hard casing around themselves, which other microbes can grab hold of. Given enough time, these mats and stromatolites (the larger structures) can begin to grow upwards and out of the water – in a pattern that very much resembles a rock. Indeed, these conglomerates of microbial life may coexist for be hundreds or thousands of years. And here, before us, were some of the best examples of this ancient marine lifeform in the world!

 
 
Stromatolites, Hamelin Pool
 

However, I acknowledge that these awesome biological structures may not lend themselves to being overly photogenic – so, before you click the ‘Back Button’ on your browser, here are a few snaps of our kids playing on the board walk. If nothing else, they certainly liven up the display.


 
Boardwalks through the Stromatolites
 
Having had our fill with ancient microbial structures (Daniel had thumbed his nose up at them almost the minute he stepped on to the beach and realised that he wasn’t able to swim there…), we headed back down the road to Hamelin station. Tonight, we determined on the ride home, was to be a good old spag bol. We had full use of the station’s communal kitchen – so why not make the best ‘on the road’ spag bol ever created?!?

Picking up the necessary supplies from our camper trailer, we made our way back to the warmth of the camp kitchen. Now, I’ve been in some camp kitchens before - and most of them are shocking – but this one was something a little special. Talking with the owners the next day, they told me that when they created this little gem of a place, they had asked themselves “From all our years on the road, what would we want in a perfect caravan park?”… And then they created it!



 
Dinner of champions! 

A large spacious kitchen, with attached dining room (with a long table stretching the length of this space, parked next to a blazing fire). Outside, there were barbeques to be used – but they went untouched for us tonight, as a good spag bol takes time to coalesce over a gentle heat. So, with dinner on the bubble, we had time to sit and chat to a few fellow wanders about their lives and travels…
 
…And then Jo happened!

Over the top of my beer can, I spied a silver haired lady (be speckled and wearing a large jumper – even though the fire was hissing and popping a few meters away). She carried a guitar case, which was plonked down next to her, along with three black folders crammed full of songs sheets and lyrics. Dragging a chair to the end of the table, this travelling minstrel sat down and opened her guitar case, then proceeded to belt out some of the most heart-warming music I’d heard in years. All the oldies were there, mixed with a few more recent numbers just to keep everyone happy. When the first Irish Ballard (Black Velvet Band) came on, I couldn’t help myself any longer. Feet started tapping and hands started drumming. Then, in the corner I spied a second guitar – almost as if it had appeared magically just at that moment. So, grabbing the instrument, I jumped up and peered over her shoulder at the song book. David Bowie was next (Space Oddity), then Crowded House (Better Be Home Soon – ah, sigh, it’s oh so true…). There were a song or two I didn’t know (but the chords were there and there was no backing down now!)… and on and on it went, with the room full of travellers singing, chatting, laughing and clapping. Man, it was an awesome night. The evening came to an end, after a few bottles had been sunk and many a verse sung. To finish the night, we harmonised over a rendition of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah (taking me back to our first night on the road, when we pulled into the motel in Horsham – man, how long ago was that?). The verses were belted out by Jo, with everyone swelling up when the chorus came. Jo played it straight and I picked out the melody – together it came together quite well. And so, as the last chord resounded around the small dining hall there was more clapping and laughter and promises to do it all again tomorrow night…

… and you know what, we sure did!



Belting out a few tunes at Hamelin Station 

 
Wandering back to our trailer across the white shell campsite, Nat, the boys and I fell into bed. It had been a long day, but one that would go into the books as being a lot of fun. But, the morning came soon enough, and we were all up early and ready to meet the sun on a new adventure. We weren’t moving on today (indeed, we had another two nights here), but today we were going to be heading off road again to explore Francois Peron National Park. Our destination was the tip of Cape Peron, which lay some 40 km up a long and undulating sandy stretch of road…

 

…But, dear reader, that is a story unto itself. So, let’s pick up there tomorrow!

 

Bye ‘d bye,

 

Gregg

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