A rolling stone gathers no moss

The next morning the wind picked up again, which made packing everything away difficult and confirming our decision to move on was the right one. Over the past week I had come to hate the wind with a passion. However, whenever there was a lull it would get too hot. The margins of what we’d consider a comfortable climate are shown to be very small when living in a tent.

We had been in contact with our Mitchell Fall saviours, Kris and Nan, who were visiting their son and his family in Exmouth. After we’d stocked up on food and beer, we popped round for a cup of tea. It was lovely seeing them again, and we had a great chat, getting some good tips for places to visit. Nan recommended visiting Mt Augustus, a very big rock (twice the size of Uluru), which we’d duly added it to our “places to go” list. As school holidays were only a week away we decided that we’d head to the more popular coastal national park Francois Peron first, before it fills with little turds, and then head back up, since families tend to avoid these types of inland areas during school holidays. Oh what perfect planning.

After saying our goodbyes we headed for Bullara station, and on arrival hit some proper heat. It was 42 degrees, which we both agreed was hot as fuck. In this heat we could do little but sit around moaning about the heat and wishing there was a little bit of wind to cool everything down.

Wake up, sheeple

Once the heat started to die down a little in the late afternoon, we wandered around the station and found some fun, “novelty” showers and toilets. The photo below misses the fact the shower was a bucket with a hose in it, but you get the idea.

Being follicly challenged has some advantages 

It was a really nice place, but as likable as this place was, Becky wanted to keep moving and I had no real reason to argue, as the dust and heat were almost as annoying as the wind. So the next day we packed up and headed towards Carnavon to stock up in a big shop and post a blog.

On route, we stopped briefly at the more popular Coral Bay. We’d heard about a small bay, a short walk from the main beach, that has a large number of nursing reef sharks during these months. We visited Coral Bay briefly in 2010, and found it a more family-friendly resort type place. Not our type of place at all, in fact I really didn’t like it, and found no improvement from my experience seven years ago. It was hella busy and the small beach was full of people trying to give their kids skin cancer. As we started to walk towards the shark nursery I got to see a rare sight indeed, Becky’s maternal instinct. This was a real treat indeed. As we walked along the beach we came across a small toddler, who could barely walk, tottering along chasing a ball. As we passed, the child stumbled and fell into the sea, splashing Becky with sand and seawater. Becky glared down at the toddler and sneered, “thanks for that” and continued on, without missing a step. I assume the child was OK, but I didn’t check, because I was laughing too hard. 

Luckily, the walk to the bay was worth it, and we saw loads of baby sharks swimming about… I think they were sharks as all we really saw were dark shapes in the water. If you watched long enough you’d see the occasional fin.

Scary sharks?

It was a lovely spot, and well worth the quick stop over… although I’d never stay in Coral Bay, that place is a fucking shit hole.

Becky don't give a fuck

It was nearing sunset by the time we reached our next stop, Wooramel River Station, which had been given glowing reviews on the not so reliable Wikicamps. We, however, were not impressed, and it all seemed very overrated. I don’t think the social campfire and live country music singsong was really our vibe, but the other people there were lapping it up. We did enjoy the car graveyard walk, but you’re scraping the barrel when that’s a fucking highlight. 

Slightly better condition than ours

We didn’t hang around the next morning, but our packing was slowed slightly by an inquisitive horse with a gunky eye.

Can't lead a horse to water

After a brief lunch stop in Denham, we headed into Francois Peron NP. Most of the driving in this park is on soft sand, meaning we needed to reduce our tyre pressure before driving along the single lane sand track. The park seemed very quiet, which I found especially pleasing.  About 20km into the park you cross a salt plain, not something that is, in itself, worth writing about, but in this instance we came across a thorny devil in the middle of the track! I’ve wanted to see one of these in the wild since we moved to Australia almost 9 years ago, so I was stoked.

Good looking fella

An artist at work

Despite my efforts with my long lens, Becky ended up taking the best shot of it with her iphone. So, size doesn’t matter

The real winner

I’d read that they were harmless, but didn’t have the balls to touch it, so I moved it to the side of the road using my flip-flops and we went on our way. It was the most chilled reptile I’ve ever seen, it didn’t give a shit about the attention we gave it. As we went round the next bend, there was another one sat in the middle of the road… We pulled over again, and this time I toughened up and moved him with my bare hands! Oh, and the chipmunk voices are back.

Feeling pretty pleased with our encounters, we continued towards the campsite. At this point I thought we’d see loads more, but sadly this wasn’t the case.

It wasn’t long before we reached the camp spot we’d decided to stay in, Gregories, right next to the beach, and, best of all, it was empty. We quickly put the tent up, and headed to the lookouts at Cape Peron. One of the cool things about this park is the red sands of the outback go right up to the golden sands of the beach. It’s a pretty great place.

I like it a lot

At the lookout we saw a few sharks, rays, turtles and other marine life swimming in the clear seas below. We were on our own, and stayed at the lookout for quite a bit, enjoying the views and wildlife.

Outback meets the sea

Back at the camp, we discussed what we should do next. There is no water in the park, and although we had 25 litres of drinking water and 35 litres of water for cleaning, Becky was stressing about the lack of water. Becky is a clean freak, to the point she insists I wash my hands after having a shit, even if the tissue didn’t break. Seriously, while most of us like to shower everyday, Becky MUST shower everyday. And not because she stinks or anything, she just doesn’t feel comfortable until she’s had a morning shower and, in this heat, an evening shower too. We decided to take stock of the water in the morning, after showers, before making a decision. 

We enjoyed our evening here, and as the sun set, I ate my salad dinner out of the bowl it was prepared in to reduce the number of dishes and save some water. I really wanted to spend more time here, and why wouldn’t you?

A perfect Bushman's takeaway