Out the end
Posted: March 16, 2012 Filed under: Australia, WA | Tags: Australia, Roadtrips, WA Leave a commentWoodend to Perth: Roadtrip – Nullabor
That which moves, is still. Whoa.
When a road train decides to lie down, some hours pass before a sky hook can return it to an upright position. The road is blocked and humour fades as travellers cook quietly in their vehicles, devoid of phone coverage, coming down from a roadhouse donut carbo-high, and realising they won’t make X that night. Fresh on the scene, we could see the driver in the company of other drivers, and all in hand, so we swept by, ahead of the authorities that would thwart the progress of those behind us. Captured by my intrepid co-driver, Canon ever at the ready.
The meditative space of the Nullabor must end eventually, and thus you reach Norseman. When I passed through two years ago, I was struck by the feeling it was a town that kept things close to its chest. The wide country-town main street was empty. Windows cloaked in corrugated iron. The single cafe delivered a fresh and tasty salad sandwich from behind lace curtains. Two pre-school children walked barefoot, alone, down the street arguing over a two litre bottle of Coke, and the petrol station pump ticked over 12 litres more than my tank could physically hold.
This time, it was Sunday, and the only things open were the petrol station, and the Visitors Information Centre (with the familiar security mesh on the windows). Foiled in our search for coffee and home baking, and keen to walkabout, we hit the Visitors Centre. Inside, homely handcrafts and brochures graced the walls and surfaces, while a spritely senior Centre volunteer battled with callers delayed for hours by the sleeping road train and demanding accommodation. The Country Womens’ Association interior completely at odds with the street vibe.
Declaring a side trip to Esperance a new imperative, we set off for the coast, arriving at dusk to a biting 16 degrees, and whipping ourselves into an excited frenzy over visiting Cape Le Grande the next day.
Seeing things
Posted: March 15, 2012 Filed under: Australia, Landscapes | Tags: Australia, landscapes, Nullabor, Roadtrips Leave a commentWoodend to Perth: Roadtrip Day 4
When you arrive at a Nullabor roadhouse before 5pm, you wonder where all the people are and pause to consider the possibility that you may have wandered onto the before now secret set of Wolf Creek:The Sequel. By 5.30pm, a full house of motel guests materialise, open the sides of their custom ute/trailer/campers, retrieve their beverage holders, and gather at their doorways, neoprened tinny in hand.
And so it was in Eucla. As dusk set, the entertainment troupe, in the form of a mice plague, came out to party. A sight more gripping than peak hour television, countless little varmints dashed SWAT-team-like from under rubbish bins, to the risky shadows of car tyres, and back and forth along walls and walkways.
By 8am the following morning, we were back on the movie set, wondering if all those other people and meece were inventions of a fine Coonawarra red that had been sunning itself in the rear of the vehicle for four days. Fortified by too much real coffee we didn’t brew in our motel room (NO COOKING IN THE ROOM), we hit the road again, and I welcomed the bracing force of a Nullabor zephyr as I hung my camera out the window for more Fleeting Glimpses. By now, I have lost the part of me that needs pin-sharp focus and am veering toward an impressionistic obsession. I love the way the blurred lines run in different directions, a bit like a mice plague.
Odometer count: 2300km. Next, Esperance.
Fleeting glimpses
Posted: March 14, 2012 Filed under: Australia, Landscapes, SA | Tags: Australia, landscapes, Nullabor, Roadtrips, SA, Trees 2 CommentsThere is a lot to love about a summer evening and a chilled beverage at sunset, on the Ceduna foreshore. Suffering from an embarrassment of riches in seafood, Ceduna is one of those magical places that owes its contained size to its relative remoteness. The people who live and work here are passionate about fishing, the region, and fishing.
Seated on the balcony and blowing the inherited smoke of other diners away, we were joined at our unfeasibly large dining table by a lovely farmer and his date. Generous with information on the region, garnered by generations of family, he pointed us in the direction of Penong and Cactus Beach. We were not disappointed.
In the fresh morning light we came upon salt lakes of coconut ice, and a surf beach that boasted allegedly one of Australia’s best left handers. Chrissie handed me her polarising filter. Oh.My.Goodness. As one who loves a watery vista, I really should have got one long ago, but I always thought it would be another filter hiding in those otherwise un-useable crevices of my camera bag, clocking up frequent flyer miles but never getting out of their little plastic cases.
Speeding away, Nullabor bound, Chrissie let me in on what I like to refer to as her Fleeting Glimpse technique which involves hanging your camera out the window of a vehicle travelling at 114km per hour, and defying the Vibration Reduction system of your lens. What I was going for here was the idea that you only catch glimpses of things as you speed by the world, you only focus on bits and pieces. It also greatly challenges my (some would argue) pathological need for order and precision. Rookie attempts, more to come.
No MONAing here
Posted: March 10, 2012 Filed under: Australia | Tags: art gallery, Australia, Hobart, MONA Leave a commentQueueing to enter MONA art gallery on an idle Monday morning in Hobart, I dredged up a memory of that Kath and Kim episode where Kim gets a job as a door beetch. Not that the lovely door person bore any resemblance. I just didn’t have a timed release program into the gallery in my mind.
Turns out, MONA is hands-down a fantastic spot. Great architecture, curation, and gutsy art choices, meet to deliver a must-do for even the most un-art-curious type. Exhibit A: art-agnostic companion muttering suspiciously, “We can’t have been here for two hours, I’m not bored.”
The darkness and corridors leading asymmetrically from the central well are at the same time disorienting, and comforting, giving you the impression you are the only one in each room. The uneasiness extends to the works, particularly Wim Delvoye’s exhibition which had me in awe at the beauty, afraid for defenceless animals, and exercising my gag reflex on my morning walk the next day, when innocent pond scum and anything that looked like human waste entered vision.
Plan to get to MONA.
Express touring
Posted: March 9, 2012 Filed under: Australia, SA | Tags: Australia, Gawler Ranges, SA Leave a comment
Leaving the charming Morgan motel, the Gawler Ranges beckoned. Granite hills, millions of years old. A manageable side adventure on the route west that I hadn’t visited before. Gantt charts and spreadsheets allowed a good three days for exploration. I pored over forums warning of flood and pestilence. I packed the compressor (for tyre management). Chrissie filled a bin with rations should we be waylaid. Perishing was not on our agenda.
Immersing ourselves in the weighty bag of brochures and promises Chrissie had sourced pre-trip, it became apparent we could base ourselves in one of the small highway towns and run day trips into the Ranges. We settled on a motel in Wudinna, a town we couldn’t help but call Wooden-eye.
I am somewhat embarrassed to admit our three day intrepid adventure was compressed to a handful of hours. The radiant heat from the 1500 million year old granite mounds meant our dashes from the car were briefer than the wonderful landscape deserved, and the time of year delivered an arid and dusty scene; photos drained of colour and plant life doing its best to conserve energy. Uninspired, I whispered my apologies and promised to return in a future spring. I swear I heard the granite reply on the wind, in understanding tones, that it wasn’t going anywhere.
Visit the most excellent Wudinna District Council website for decent info about the Gawler Ranges.
Tomorrow, the Coast!
As I see it 