Esperance to Adelaide.
Saturday 21st November. I am going to begin this letter by mentioning that today is the anniversary of the passing of our dear loyal and loving dog Barklie. One year ago we said goodbye to her and despite this being a sad time we remember her as a joy and delight in our lives.
Sunday 22nd, we are on the road and heading north to Kalgoorlie some 400 klm away from Esperance. The sun is finally shining which we are extremely thankful for. It’s golden grassland all around us for as far as you can see, and the first sizable town we encounter is Norseman with its population of 1,000 people. The town is said to be a prosperous mining town with over 5 million ounces of gold having been extracted from ‘them there fields’, it’s known as the ‘Gate way to the West’ because of its location to the Nullarbor. The township itself looks anything but prosperous with very few of its original building still standing and those that are, have been left with out care. Coolgardie was our next stop and an opportunity to take some photos of at least one imposing 19th century building. The main street is extremely wide and boasts a camel train can turn around in it. One has to ask why one would want to do that, but hey who would know, country life is sure different. We arrived in Kalgoorlie after 5.30pm to find the caravan park of choice closed because it was having the carpet cleaned in the office. Sounds all too hard really. The next caravan park we approached fortunately was not closed for cleaning so we found a spot at Discovery Caravan Park. The park has a notice at the front gate saying NO DOGS so we looked at Wendal and agreed he was not a dog so in we went.
Monday 23rd. A drive through town revealed some beautiful historic buildings that have been painstakingly restored. They have tried to keep the original feel of the place by using the old shop fronts and not allowing plaza’s etc to change the original town’s theme. There are relics from gold mining everywhere you look, it’s a city with gold mining at its heart. A visit to The Super-Pit was a must so I will take the opportunity to quote from an inspiring brochure on the subject.
The Super-Pit is a manmade wonder that can be seen from space: a massive gouge carving into the red earth, where trucks the size of houses move hundreds of tons of rock in the hope of extracting a few ounces of gold at a time. To some it’s called the Fimiston Open Mine, to others it’s the richest square mile of gold bearing earth in the world.’ (Kalgoorlie. Western Australia. Heart of the Goldfields). What more can I say?
Tuesday 24th We began our day with a skype call to Freeman (our younger son) too wish him Happy Birthday for the 25th, as we rightfully assumed we would not have Internet access as we crossed the Nullabor. We left Kalgoorlie with the notion we had everything on board we could possibility need should anything go wrong on this isolated pathway to the east. I really do have to confess that I was very nervous about this next leg of our journey. The weather was definitely in our favor, warm but not too hot with moderate winds and few flies. We had lunch before topping up the fuel tank at Norseman and then began our trip across the Nullarbor at approximately l2.30pm.
It’s a wonderful road, wide with great bitumen, so it was smooth sailing, so to speak, for the rest of the day. As the afternoon progressed we noticed a huge bush fire to the South and smoke was filling the sky rapidly. Ken figured we had to out run it otherwise we would probably be camped in its path. We continued on until about 6.30pm and by this stage it was well behind us so we stopped at No16 in the Camps 4 book by the name of Damblegobby Rest Area. Fortunately it was a large area because at the end of the evening there were nine different and assorted vans together in this area.
The sun going down was a sight to behold because the smoke filling the sky and the sun became a mighty red ball dipping into the horizon.
Wednesday 25th. As we were sitting having our perked coffee and our usual leisurely breakfast we noticed that we were all on our lonesome as our fellow travelers had already hit the road so to speak and some had done so well before we were awake. You have to ask yourself, ‘what’s the rush’? Perhaps they have a life to go to, who would know, but anyway we smiled at each other with the knowledge that we were last again and that fits nicely into our comfort zone. Wendal immediately became at odds with the day as soon as we set off, and began to cry letting us know he was not a happy camper. I turned to look at him in his cage and noticed it was vibrating quite alarmingly, as I mentioned this to Ken he informed me that it was because of the road surface, so eventually we pulled over and put our exercise mat under his cage for more padding. This did not work, but our wee man settled down and went to sleep. The countryside changed a great deal from the day before, as it was much flatter with scrub rather than trees, but the wonderful straight road remained the same. As we crossed the border into S.A. we came very close to the coast and the Great Australian Bight.
How amazing to see such a fantastic expanse of water in the middle of such isolation. We stopped for the evening at Bunda Cliffs Lookout a magnificent spot 600meters off the highway overlooking the Great Southern Ocean. Warning signs everywhere not to step to close to the cliff edge as the drop is straight down to your death. I do not think there would be a second chance on that one! The sky in evening was breathtaking because there was not a tree or a hill to be seen.
Thursday 26th. Again we watched the entourage of campers leaving this magic spot as we contemplated the day ahead. Realizing we were going to be at the quarantine checkpoint later in the day, we did what we could with the remainder of the fruit and vegetables we had on board. This means I have a big cook-up. I must say we do have very interesting meals after these quarantine checkpoints. The vibration in the car was now quite serious, however my driver did not seem perturbed and kept reminding me of the amount of traffic that travel this road, hence the road surface causing the problem. Well nice try Captain Salty, head in the sand again. By early afternoon it was blatantly clear that the problem stemmed from the rear tyre on the drivers side, I concluded this because Wendal’s cage was shuddering quite violently and so was every thing on the drivers side of the car. In fact the whole car felt as though it had a vibrator under it. No it was not fun for those of you who may think it was, it was awful. We got to the quarantine station at about 4.30pm and as I was showing the nice gentleman through the van so he could view my cooked fruit and vegetables, Ken checked said tyre as I had suggested and commented as we drove away that we would have to replace said tyre ASAP because it had a huge blister in it and was falling apart. So much for the road surface I said to myself, why do I always have to be right? We found a nice caravan park at Ceduna, parked the van and then rushed off looking for a place that sold tyres. I think perhaps we were very lucky, the tyre did not come apart while driving at 100 klm an hour across the Nullarbor, actually it was amazing.
Friday 27th. The bad weather seemed to be following us as we awoke to gale force winds buffeting the van. Oh what fun! The new tyre had to be ordered and would not be here until Saturday, so we had no choice but wait. Finally we decided to rug up and take a walk. It was a walk I will not forget in a hurry, leaning into the wind as it screams past you is in some ways exhilarating but mostly in the end very tiring. When we got back to the van we both agreed we had plenty of exercise for the day and the temporary face life was not all that great.
Saturday 28th and the wind had not abated. On went the new tyre without a problem so with the car back in action we decided on a drive around the town. Sight seeing does not take long in these weather conditions, so we found ourselves back at the van before long.
Sunday 29th we woke to peace and quiet as the wind had stopped blowing its rage. We drove south on the Flinders Highway in search of new adventures finding a few sleepy towns along the way. Smoky Bay, Streaky Bay, Venus Bay are all small fishing villages with a smattering of holiday homes. We also discovered Port Kenny which we decided despite the name was not going on our list of favorite places or must see places for future reference. We eventually made camp at Locks Well Beach, just south of Elliston, a large area for van parking set back from the cliff edge, high above the beach. Magnificent view but again the weather was following us and soon it was raining again and we were confined to the van.
Monday 30th it would be nice to out run this weather. We traveled on through beautiful wheat lands dotted with very old sandstone buildings, mostly farmhouses that are still occupied and very well restored; they fit into the countryside with such majesty along with the stone fences that help divide these paddocks into some order. Coffin Bay was a place that appealed to Ken, as I had read him the advertising from the brochure, which read ‘World’s Best Oysters’ he seemed more determined than ever to take a detour to this town. It is a very picturesque place with lots of oyster leases arranged in the shallow clear waters of the bay. Yes he managed to buy a dozen, which he claimed later that evening were delicious. I should make mention Coffin Bay is named after an early surveyor and not the familiar box we think of. On to Port Lincoln at the bottom of the Eyre Peninsular where we intended to spend the night, however the one caravan park in town has a strict rule of NO PETS and as we do not want to upset Wendal with its BAD VIBES we moved on. We did however manage to see the marina and I was able to purchase Christmas cards, paper etc. The city has a beautiful clean foreshore, encompassing pine trees, grassy lawns and sandy beach with grain storing and loading facilities dominating the southern end of the bay. It claims to be a thriving regional community home to 15,000 people, (one being an Australian Gold Medalist in Heavy Weight Lifting by the name of Dean Lukin), and a booming fishing and aquaculture industry. I do have to ask with a city of this size why do you have only one caravan park and why do you have to be so unfriendly to the Wendals in this world? We moved on and this time headed North to the lovely town of Tumby Bay which suited us admirably.
Tuesday 1st December. I am feeling very tired today and wish we were staying put but there is not enough in this town to keep us here. We pulled into a campsite some 25 klm from Tumby Bay and 6klm off the highway on a dirt road called Cowley’s Beach and it was a piece of heaven, no one else around so we had a whole beautiful beach to ourselves; it was almost to good to be true. I guess this is why we grey nomads have self-contained vans so we can stay in places like this. A couple at Ceduna Caravan Park told us about this place and they were right.
The sun is shining, the sky is clear with a gentle breeze and we are both happy and well. What more could you want. Yes, well phone and Internet access would be good but I have learnt you can’t have everything.
Wednesday 2nd we are reluctant to leave this beautiful place. We decided to take the back road to Port Neill through farm country that follows the coastline, it’s predominantly wheat and sheep farms. A great many of the farms have their own coastal coves and bays with white sand beaches and magnificent headlands, this vista really wouldn’t be too hard to wake up to each morning. Oh I just realized I would probably have to have married a farmer, well maybe not. We moved on to the city of Whyalla and decided to spend the night at Whyalla Foreshore Holiday Park. We ask for a beach side spot and when we got there it was low tide so basically we had sand flats but as the evening progressed the tide came in and it proved to be a very pleasant vista. Ken and I embarked on a challenging walk up to Hummock Hill, which has a magnificent vista of the gulf and then down to the marina, and a walk along the jetty. A drink looked good by the time we got home, I can tell you.
Thursday 3rd. We woke to massive winds attacking our awning; so we both got up to put it down before it wound itself into a mess, then back to bed as it was ages before dawn. When we did finally get up we headed to Port Augusta, for me it is a town that reminds me of a country town in the U.S.A. dare I say Hicksville, nothing about this town told me I was in Australia. Oh I do beg your pardon there was a Woolworths so I had a shopping fix and posted a parcel to family. On to Port Augusta where I managed to buy a present for Freeman, it had to be small, light, and serviceable, I will leave you to wonder what it might be. After Port Augusta it was 140 klm drive to Port Pirie where we took up residence for the evening at Port Pirie Caravan Park.
Friday 4th. At about 8.30am our ears were assaulted with the sound of a gentleman of some years, singing at the top of his voice. His operatic voice was well and truly past its ‘used by date’, resonated throughout the area with perhaps for him, a desired dramatic effect. For us it was diabolical. I went to investigate where this sound was originating, to find the gentleman swimming in the lake that borders the caravan park. He had perfected his over arm stroke so as to have his head out of the water at all times, therefore could sing as he swam. His world was obviously a very different place from where most of us live, but good on him just hope he doesn’t drown while hitting the high notes. I am thinking of practicing my over arm stroke when we take up residence at Coomaroo Cresent again, who knows the (over the hill) swimming soprano could become quite an attraction in the neighborhood. We decided to have lunch at Port Broughton a sleepy town with a lovely bay, however the wind started picking up so we moved on rather quickly. The next town was Brut, then Snowtown and then on to the Clare Valley through Blyth and finally arriving at Clare mid afternoon. Clare Caravan Park is a lovely park 1 klm out of town, unfortunately quite noisy because it’s right on the highway.
Saturday 5th, I am very worried about Wendal, he is not well and needs to see a vet so hope it will not be to long before we find one, but being the weekend this is not easy. This was the day to attack the wineries in the area and we began with Sevenhill Cellars, which was started in 1848 by the Jesuit priests who had fled religious and political persecution in Silesia. They planted Clare valleys first grapes and began making sacramental wine but soon were also supplying the settlers. Sevenhill is still making wines in the same cellars, but now 41 wineries and 36 cellar doors around the region have joined them.
We moved on from there to historic Martindale Hall, just outside of the town of Mintaro. This is a magnificent house in old English style grandeur, built in 1879-80 for a young Englishman by the name of Edmund Bowman at a cost of 30,000 pounds. Anyone who has seen the movie ‘Picnic at Hanging Rock’ has seen the house as Peter Weir directed this movie there in 1975. We stopped for lunch at Reilly’s Wines and Restaurant, a small boutique winery and tasted some lovely Reisling, home made soup and bread, very nice lunch indeed. On to Taylors wines and we were disappointed not just with the building trying to pass as a fort with its awful façade, but the wines we tried were ordinary in comparison to others we had experienced. Annie’s Lane was our last winery for the day and we picked up a deal of 2 bottles for $20, which as anyone who has bought Annie’s Lane wines knows that was a great deal.
Sunday 6th We decided to drive on to the Barossa Valley and not head to Adelaide as Wendal seemed to be holding his own at this stage, but he does need a vet. So many beautiful little towns with quaint stone buildings mostly very well restored. Lovely cottage gardens with lots of roses, very much an old English feel. Auburn was the first one we encountered then on to Rhynie, Tarlee then Kapunda and Truro. It took us about 2 hours to arrive at Nuriootpa, a town on the northern end of the Barossa Valley, with a rapidly growing population of around 5,500 residents. The town services more than 50 wineries in the nearby area, with the best-known cellars being Wolf Blass, Penfolds and Elderton. It also has a very nice Caravan Park called Barossa Valley Tourist Park, which made us feel very comfortable. After unhitching we decided to take a walk through town and ended up at Penfolds Wines, the building is very ordinary but they did offer some great Christmas specials. Back to the van and one look at Wendal and the decision to find a vet as soon as possible was paramount for the next day.
Monday 7th. we have an appointment at 2.30 pm to have Wendal checked over however I would be very surprised if it was good news. With Wendal as comfortable as possible (that means asleep) we took a drive to Seppeltsfield Estate, birthplace of the Seppelt tradition created by Joseph Seppelt in 1851.This place is amazing, it even has its own town of Seppeltsfield, and the roads leading to the town are lined with date palms.
The Seppelt’s family has their own mausoleum situated on the highest hill in the region overlooking their estate. The family no longer owns the estate having sold out some years ago to three very wealthy businessmen; one can only imagine how many billions it would have cost them. On we went to Barossa Valley estate, which has a very modern building but to my way of thinking very acidic wines. Now folks I did get my Wine degree from a Weet Bix Box so it could be a bit dodgy. Maggie Beers Pheasant Farm was where we chose to have lunch and it is a strange but interesting concept of an eatery. Lunch is a picnic basket that is designed around the produce in the store, however despite the produce being delicious I was disappointed that nothing apart from the bread roll was fresh. The roll was described as being baked in wood fired ovens; let me tell you there was nothing wood fired about my very commercial white bread roll. We drove back to the van to pick up Wendal and then on to the vet. The upshot was he weighed 3 kgs and probably had chronic renal failure. The vet took blood samples and told us to phone for the results the next day. The reality of Wendal’s condition was becoming very real indeed, and the sadness of saying good buy to our dear wee man was unthinkable. This night was the worst night we can remember with Wendal vomiting the contents of his stomach for what seemed like an eternity.
Tuesday 8th, I am quickly getting my mind around the idea the best thing for Wendal is to let him go, his suffering is becoming a dreadful thing to watch, so can only imagine what it is like for him to be experiencing this. It has happened so quickly and I am really still in shock, it’s so difficult to deal with the impending loss of this lovely wee man. We began the day quite late and after a bit of planning we decided on the Yalumba Wine Company, which claims to be Australia’s oldest family owned winery.
The buildings and grounds are beautiful and we thoroughly enjoyed an hour or more chatting with the lady behind the bar, informing us about the wines, not to mention the other thousand obscure subjects we touched on. A nice distraction from the reality we are experiencing. We then moved on to Chateau Tanunda Estate where after tasting their celebrated Reisling decided not to bother with anything else. Richmond Grove Winery and Hallett Winery were the last for the day thank god, they presented nice wines but some I felt we had tried before. It was time for the vet so instead of phoning for the results of the blood tests we dropped by for the news, which as we suspected was all-bad. Wendal had severe renal failure and nothing could be done to help him. We made an appointment for Wendal to be euthanased at 10.30 am the next morning. He despite being so ill was hungry, so I fed him teaspoons of food over a three-hour period. At about 9.30 pm he started to complain, eventually Ken said to me ‘he wants you to go to bed’, so I did and he came straight away and cuddled up and slept for the whole night.
Wednesday 9th, I have decided not to add anything to this day other than to say Wendal passed away with enormous dignity and grace at the age of 12 years and 8 months. I can only thank him for his patience, tolerance, persistence and presence, but most of all his love. For the last 10 months we have shared a space of 24 by 8 foot and together we have gotten to know the essence of each other, the three of us have been the three Musketeers on a journey together, now we are only two. To say we are going to miss him is a major understatement. We selected to have him cremated and will take his ashes home to Coomaroo Cresent and bury them with his great friend Barklie.
Thursday 10th. We are aiming for Adelaide, the weather is foul but we are on a mission. Sadness overwhelms me at the most unexpected times. Our plans have been changed and we have decided to stay closer to the city so have booked into Levi Park only 5 klm from the city centre. I need to finish this chapter / letter without further detail or deliberation as I guess most of you will understand.
Friday 11th It is time to close and to wish you all a merry Christmas. We are flying back to Brisbane on the 17th and will return to Adelaide on the 3rd of January for a new chapter in our lives.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all. I thank you for reading my story and being interested enough to stay with me.
Love Elizabeth
Wendal: DOB 5/4/1997 DOD 9/12/2009
