Last weekend I drove up to Geraldton with my dad and two small people, Hugamuga and Dippity. Dad wanted to visit his step-mother, the kids were on holidays, and it was a good chance for me to visit our Geraldton office as well as seeing my step-Grandmother. Now 86.
I thought I’d tell this story in pictures.
We drove up on Saturday. First stop was lunch at a little picnic spot just north of Badgingarra.
We stopped at the old convict bridge, washed away in a recentish flood. I lost my akubra (well Groover’s hat) but luckily had written our name and phone number inside it and the lovely gentleman at the Hampton Arms Inn rescued it for me.
After rescuing my hat, the kids and I decided to visit Greenough’s historic village which was quite well preserved, if a bit dusty. The new cafe is very swish. This is the jail.
A classic Greenough tree. A river gum bent double by the strong winds off the coast.
It is still very dry at Greenough.
My step-grandmother and father in her crowded kitchen. She has two stoves and four fridges, although she only uses two at the moment. I’m making a video of her house – it has to be seen to be believed – so if I get permission – stand by. And yes, you picked it, she is Japanese.
Hers is an interesting story which I will tell when I show you her house.
A sunset view from the house.
The next day the kids discovered the Merry-Go-Round by the Sea, inspired by Randolph Stow’s famous autobiographical novel.
And we visited the memorial to the crew of HMAS Sydney, especially poignant since the discovery of the wrecks and the fact today is after all, ANZAC Day. Now they can, rest in peace.
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Yes it rained. But the earth seemed so dry as to reject the water. We were a little worried about our night camping but the weather bureau’s radar looked promising so we headed to Cliff Head, via Dongara.
We had to go to Dongara because that’s where my dad built his first solo construction. Aged 13.
Dad went on to become Engineer of the Year and was involved in a great many projects. My favourite is still The Stirling Bridge in Fremantle which was his first project as project manager. I remember going to the opening… ah but that’s yet another story.
So we made it to Cliff Head. Camping to my kids means marshmellows:
And to my dad, means fishing:
He used to fish here with his mum and dad.
We slept on the beach which wasn’t as successful as we hoped given the bright moonlight and my Dippity falling ill and the next day mooched our way home, stopping on the way at the Pinnacles Desert near Cervantes.
It was my dad’s first ever visit to this famous West Australian tourist destination.
And it was my first visit too. I’m not sure why they are such a popular tourist destination…
PS: I didn’t break a nail til I came home and did the washing. Meh.
PPS: Here’s where all the photos live.
We spent the last four days at Ennuin Station with some good friends from Hong Kong. It must of been such a culture shock for them after more than two years in Asia to be plonked down in the spare vast landscape of outback WA. The heat was so stifling that all we could do when they arrived was look at each other and wonder what the hell we were doing there – aren’t there beaches in WA??!
