- Part 1: The Universe Gives Me A Nudge
- Part 2: Bangkok & Rest & Realisation In Koh Lanta
- Part 3: Singapore Slings & Bali Tranquility
- Part 4: A Trip To The Place Where Oceans Collide
- Part 5: Geraldton, Woodchopping & Kalbarri Majesty
- Part 6: Monkey Mia, Ningaloo Reef & A Deep Sense Of Dread
- Part 7: The Tent & The Bull
- Part 8: The Sky Turns Red & The Earth Glows Orange
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I had absolutely no idea what the following few days would bring when I left Broome and headed east.
It immediately felt different. There was less traffic on the road and a sense of heading into the unknown. It was just me in my little bubble.
I crossed rivers and creeks and stopped at one where I spotted my first croc – whether it was freshwater or saltwater, I don’t know but it was there, gliding down the river. Enormous boab trees dotted the landscape with outcrops of red rocks and savannah.
I crossed the mighty Fitzroy River/ Martuwarra and pulled into the Fitzroy River Lodge where I pitched my little tent amid the huge RVs.
Fitzroy Crossing is a predominantly Aboriginal town and a hub for many surrounding communities and has great historical, cultural, artistic and spiritual significance.
The area experienced record flooding following a cyclone in January 2023 with around 30 homes destroyed and hundreds of people evacuated.
Cattle were washed away and a couple of crocodiles roamed the streets, one of which was about 3m in length. It was a freshwater croc – far less aggressive than its saltwater brethren – and was eventually returned to the water.
The Fitzroy River Bridge collapsed cutting off access to the region as the primary link between the East and West Kimberley.
A new one was constructed ahead of schedule and opened in late 2023. For me it was a reminder of the vastness the country and nature’s power.
The following morning a neighbour asked if I slept well. I answered in the affirmative to which she replied she’d seen dingoes around my tent in the night…….
To Danggu Geikie Gorge National Park where the walls rise 30m high and where the river in the wet season climbs up to 17m.
In the afternoon, I walked around the campsite where the wallabies were gathered and took a dip in the pool which had a sign warning people to be careful of the snakes on poolside.
I had a gorgeous evening meal at the hotel – lamb shanks followed by dessert and coffee.
Halls Creek, China Wall & The Loudest Silence
I don’t know if dingoes came to visit in the night but I set off the following morning, heading east along the Great Northern Highway.
The landscape was mainly flat and the soil a deep, deep cinnamon. Mountain ranges rose in the distance with small hills on both sides of the road – and all of it bone dry.
Next stop, Halls Creek. The town lies at the northern edge of the Great Sandy Desert and Tanami Desert and is the gateway to many renowned outback drives like the Tanami and Duncan Roads and Canning Stock Route. All of them require a 4WD so will have to wait another day.
It’s also close to Purnululu National Park and its Bungle Bungle Ranges and the Wolfe Creek Crater – not to be confused with the horror film – which also requires a 4WD. So that too will have to wait until I return.
I parked up at the Kimberley Hotel and walked past the pool where two women were reading and grilling themselves in the ferocious sun.
The young Englishwoman on reception couldn’t have been more helpful. I was worn out and dehydrated even though I’d taken on plenty of water. I sat there for what seemed an age as she brought me water and made a coffee.
She advised that I visit the China Wall, a natural wall of white quartz which rises for 6 metres and looks like a miniature Great Wall of China.
I’d noticed a certain silence accompanies extreme heat in Australia and I felt it again here. It was heavy and loud as if someone or something was communicating but I couldn’t discern what was being said.
The sun bounced off the limestone walls and the heat enveloped me along with this loud silence. It wasn’t threatening and it didn’t unsettle me as it did on the road to Exmouth but it was there and I had to drive through it.
The Overwhelming Grandeur of Nature
I headed north to Kununurra, past the entrance to Purnululu National Park, excited that I was on the brink of confirming a trip there despite it being so late in the season.
Impossible to put into words how the drive took my breath away.
Green rolling hills, red escarpments and boulders the size of cars; wild horses, Brahman cows amid roaming cattle and wallabies and even a daring dingo dashing in front of a car; eagles and galahs: enormous Boab trees. The transformative effect of the late afternoon sun on monoliths which changed colour in front of my eyes.
It was nature at its most majestic and diverse and I was overwhelmed when the wild horses galloped alongside me. I realised I was crying: they weren’t sad tears, I wasn’t upset, it was just the sheer magnitude and beauty of it all. And I’m blummin’ crying now writing this.
I had three days in Kununurra before setting off back south to Purnululu as I’d managed to get on to the final tour of the season that Kingfisher Tours were running.
I visited Mirima National Park, a small park close to the town with spectacular natural rock formations and colourful layered rocks. It’s a culturally significant place for the local Miriwoong people who’ve been going there for thousands of years.
It was a place of deep connection.
I drove to Ivanhoe Crossing where huge signs warned of saltwater crocodiles. It’s a concrete causeway built over the mighty Ord River which only 4WDs can attempt to navigate.
I watched as kids and adults jumped in and splashed and swam despite the crocodile warnings.
I toasted my birthday with lots of water, crisps and sweets and drove up to Lake Argyle, Australia’s second-largest manmade reservoir and home to 30,000-35,000 freshwater crocodiles.
And then I was ready to head to Purnululu.