Crossing the Nullabour

We’ve crossed the Nullabour Plains in the last two days.  There’s miles and miles of scrub with the occasional lookout to the Great Southern Ocean.  The vastness is overwhelming, with straight stretches of road that seemingly run as far as the eye can see.  And there’s the  180' degree views of the Great Southern Ocean and the rocky cliffs.

And Aussies, known for their sense of humour, we found the “bottle” tree, the “kettle” tree, the “hat” tree, the “knickers” tree, the “bra” tree, the “shoe” tree, and a new one started, …the “flag” tree. 

We came across carrion, that the crows and eagles were fighting over.  yes,…it’s pretty bad when the carrion is the ONLY thing that’s different to see.  And there were many many trucks, and almost as many caravans making their own way across the Nullabour, just like ourselves. 

And the  good news is….  we’ve crossed in to Western Australia….FINALLY!  We’re finally here.  And after dumping our fresh food at the border of South Australia, it’s only another 700 klms to go before you come to a town.  There’s a few petrol stops along the way, but not a full township.

Our stopover tonight is at Madura.  It overlooks the plains.  (The wind is whistling in through the window as I write this.)  It’s also the halfway point to the next town.  Norseman. (another 350 klms)  There, we’ll fuel up and restock the fridge.  We’re out of reception here until we hit the next town, so there will probably be two blog postings.

As we drove across the Nullabour, it makes you appreciate having a car to drive, as you contemplate how those early colonists survived these harsh environments.  Travelling for DAYS, even months to get to the nearest town.  And water so scarce. 

We stopped into Eucla, which is just on the border.  Noted for the telegraph station that was situated down along the beach front.  Sand is now banked up to the roof, which is no longer there.  Remnants of a pier that has now become a roosting stop for the local sea birds,  shows how those who worked for the telegraph office received their supplies.  So remote, like the many spots that dot this rugged coastline all along the Southern Ocean and Bass Strait.

And we also dropped back 2 hours.  So while my stomach is telling me it’s dinner time, the clock is telling me it’s afternoon tea time.  It might be early to bed tonight.