This Diamond Ring (Sal Salis – Exmouth – Learmonth – Perth – Sydney)

We missed all the excitement last evening, dear reader. One of the guests had lost a ring. Not just any ring, a diamond engagement ring that had belonged to her mother. Obviously that inspired today's title, This Diamond Ring by Gary Lewis and The Playboys from 1965. Fortunately, it was found in the sand beside the road by one of the enterprising guests (well done Rosa) and ring and owner were soon reunited.

The Lodge and Deck.

Breakfast was the usual affair on the deck with the addition of one of the resident corellas who, this morning, proved to be quite aggressive. One couple decided to offer him a morsel while another was forced to abandon where they sitting for a safer zone. Well, that was the concept. On to a good thing, the corella followed them. Rather amusing really. He did try it on at our table but was no match for me.

Keeping an eye on potential breakfast items.

We chatted with Rosa and Greg again this morning. They have a travel agency in Cobram and I feel we will contact them next time we are heading down toward Rutherglen.

It was another beautiful morning on the reef. Sunshine, no cloud and a light breeze to keep you cool. After repacking the bag and vacating the tent, we sat on the deck watching the whales playing beyond the reef break and commiserated with the other guests who were also departing today.

The Dining Room.

The buggy arrived to transport us to the South Mandu carpark for the change into the mini-bus. We were keen to check in for our flights and to see if Qantas was behaving so phones were at the ready for the moment we were in range of the network. Check-in was finalised as we reached Exmouth and enjoyed a brief stop. We popped into the bakery to enjoy a pie and sausage roll in order to avoid the first leg of airline food. Excellent sausage roll and the pie was good, not Gaffney’s of Seymour standard, but good.

The final sunset #1

There is nothing to report of Learmonth airport because, well, there is nothing at Learmonth airport. The check-in girl was a trainee as was the guy in security so the process was a little longer than usual. After settling down to wait for boarding, Tinnitus arrived and sat within our earshot so we could continue to enjoy their inane conversation. “Unbelievable,” muttered Jayne.

The final sunset #2

Boarding time came soon enough and we made our way down the aisle to our exit row seats to discover … what do you think it was, dear reader? Absolutely correct. Tinnitus were seated across the aisle. “FFS, enough is enough,” Jayne spat under her breath as we stowed our luggage. We’re in a Fokker and the seat configuration is 2-3 with us being the 2 seats. Over the aisle there was a spare seat between Tinnitus. Jayne was horrified when an unsuspecting passenger came down the aisle to occupy the middle seat. I wanted to yell, "It's a trap. Don't sit there". Before he sat down, he offered for Tinnitus to sit next to each other. This generous offer was declined. How did he know they were together you ask? I have omitted a key detail about their behaviour. They always wear matching clothes. Always. Columbia brand only. And yes, I am being judgy.

The final sunset #3

Let’s expedite this story. Our plane was delayed because it was late from Sydney. That’s right blame Sydney. To add to the misery of waiting in an overcrowded lounge, we were flying home in a 737. Its first flight probably occurred before I was a teenager. The business section (no caps) is 12 seats. They don’t recline, the leg rests don’t rise nor does the lumbar support. I was really looking forward to stretching out on the flat bed. Seriously Qantas, how do you sleep at night charging business class rates for this level of service. And yes, the cabin staff were lovely, but that is not the point. I’ve flown much shorter routes in Asia in better cabins. Once again, lift your game Qantas.

Leaving Learmonth.

Anyway, it was a great experience swimming with the whale shark and that, ultimately, is what the trip was about. Aside from not being home for Jayne’s birthday. The plane made up some time on the way home, thanks to a cracking westerly and we were home and in bed by midnight.

Perth was unexpectedly green.

Until next time which will be November for a brief excursion to South Australia.

The Lighthouse Song (Sal Salis, Cape Range National Park)

No breakfast for me to begin the day, dear reader. I was up at 5:30am, to dress and gather my gear to slip out away, as quietly as possible. Told Jayne to go back to sleep as I zipped up the tent flap to ensure the flies didn’t carry her away while I was gone. It wasn’t the most restful night for either of us. The wind had picked up from the east again and ripped at the fly over the tent. It sounded at times as if someone was trying to get into the tent and at others, like there were wild animals scratching at the door. Just like the people in the The Lighthouse Song by Josh Pyke.

No need for a torch.

I was at the Lodge before 6:00am, gathering with the other early risers who were joining the sunrise walk to Mandu Mandu. In the local language it means “meat meat”, a good place to hunt.

We walked the path back to the South Mandu carpark and on the way, I snapped a few shots of the sleeping resort with the full moon as a backdrop, hovering above the sea. After one snap, I saw a shooting star. Magic. We were soon on the bus for a 5 minute drive to another carpark where we commenced our walk down the old river bed, through the gorge and up the hill.

First light in the gorge.

En route, we passed through black footed wallaby territory and a few of them stopped to pose for us. The gorge walls were stunning as the sun rose and they changed colour to create a paint chart of shades of red. 

The walk down the river bed was surprisingly easy.

We walked at a pleasant rate, intent on enjoying the surroundings and listening to the natural world wake. The view from the top was as brilliant as expected. A sweeping vista across the valley, out to the sea and the reef. Sal Salis was clearly visible as was the reef and the whales beyond it, breaching and fin slapping.

Nice pose. Excellent contrast of colours.

The walk back to the car park was as benign as the climb up to the top of the hill and we were soon back at the resort ordering breakfast. Jayne was waiting for me in the Lodge and once breakfast was done, we went back to the tent to change for another drift snorkel. On the way back she regaled me with a Tinnitus story. Apparently, his wetsuit was the wrong size and he wandered into the Lodge talking about the problem with the suit. Interestingly, he was alone.

The view from the first rest stop.

Down on the beach, we prepared our gear for the snorkel. The swell had almost completely gone and the sea was much calmer than the last few days. As we were readying ourselves, we were approached by a random traveller, Adrienne, who was snorkelling alone and wanted to alert us to this fact. We also learnt where she placed her bag and where her phone was that contained the emergency contact. Overshare. It turned out that Adrienne was not a guest of Sal Salis; she was in a campervan, on holiday from Cairns. In theory she should not have been there. While the beach is not privately owned, the resort site is and her access to the beach was through the resort. Queenslanders!

The Lodge in the distance and the beach where we snorkelled.

Conditions today were excellent. The visibility had improved and the current had dropped slightly. We walked to outer end of the resort and put our gear on and drift snorkelled back to where our gear had been left. The number and variety of fish astound me every time I stick my head into the water. I won’t try and name the varieties, but the colours defy description on a day where the sun ensures iridescent sparkling. Azure blue to sunshine yellow, purple to green to silver, every colour was accounted for somewhere on a fish or coral growth.

A singing honey-eater (I was told).

The drift back to base occupied about 15 minutes and we were not wearing wet suits, so came ashore to warm ourselves in the sun. Adrienne had completed her second drift by this time and stopped for another chat before heading into the water for the last time. We walked up to our starting point and hit the water again, this time heading further out into the coral before drifting back to our gear. The second drift was over 20 minutes and that was enough time in the sun for us. Time for a shower and change of clothes.

A Cape Range Grevillea.

What is next? Lunch of course, dear reader. Not that we were hungry, but you know, it’s on offer. Today vongole in garlic and butter served with a baguette. And in our case, wine and beer. As we discussed the options, Tinnitus was in the corner talking. Incessantly. “Do they ever shut up?” asked Jayne. It’s like any thought that comes into their head needs to be verbalised. Following lunch, I edited the photos I’d taken, blogged a little, watched some newbies arrive and then repaired to the tent for some reading. Dinner tonight is still a mystery as the board hadn’t been placed up before we left, but we do know we are leaving Sal Salis tomorrow at 10:00am. Sad face.

Fortunately the white shouldered wrens that I'd been stalking down at the Lodge, appeared next to our tent in the fading afternoon light. While they weren't totally co-operative, I wanted the male in the sun to show off his sparkling colours, I understand that he had other things on his mind. Well, he is male.

White shouldered Fairywren looking for romance.

A different dinner that evening, same concept, three courses with paired wines. Curiously, from my perspective they paired the pork belly entrée with a Sauvignon Blanc. Yeah nah. We went with the Pinot Noir. As did the two couples we had been chatting with prior to dinner. All of the wines are from Denmark. The West Australian area, not the country, and are cold climate wines.

We had plenty of laughs over dinner as tales from the day were recounted and we shared stories of our lives and travel. The moon is only just past full and once again proved to be too bright for the sort of night photography I was chasing so it was time for bed.

Until tomorrow.

 

When I'm 64 (Sal Salis, Cape Range National Park)

The night was calmer, although colder until the early morning when the wind whipped up again. No drama. The tent stayed anchored to the ground. We heard the sound of distant voices heading off to early morning adventures and dozed on. 

Those voices became the soundtrack to our week. We heard them on the plane up from Perth, on the shuttle to Sal Salis, in the morning as they went on their dawn walk, in the Lodge. I named them Tinnitus because they were always in my head.

Today is Jayne’s birthday (August 19 if you’re reading this out of sync) and the intention is to be as relaxed as possible and just go with whatever takes us. It is also responsible for today's title, When I'm 64 by the best band ever, The Beatles. 

Breakfast was the usual offerings, although this morning we tried the coffee machine. I know, dear reader, there are multitudes of people who believe the new-age machine does good coffee, but I am not among their number. What appeared in a cup this morning, masquerading as an espresso, did little to alter my perspective. I drank it and then opted for a cup of tea.

Stunning every morning.

Following breakfast, we were fitted out for our snorkelling gear, sans wetsuits. The water temperature is remarkably warm and we felt we wouldn’t require them. Back to the tent to change and then it was straight across the sand dune to the water. The reef is less than 10 metres away but the south-north current ensures you need to walk many metres down the beach to allow your snorkel to bring you home. Otherwise, it’s Mauritius or Madagascar, as I’ve heard the guides say.

We walked maybe 500 metres up the beach and then it was into the gutter between the shore and the coral. Mask adjusted, flippers on, into the current, over the coral and let the ocean do the rest. Visibility was still not as good as we’d hoped. The fringing coral was in various states of life or death; it wasn’t easy to tell the difference at times. It’s a spectrum I guess and the opposite ends share some similarities. The coral closest to the shore was covered in sediment which was unsurprising given the current and the nature of the reef.

There was a variety of coral but the abundance and diversity of fish life was astounding. Regardless of whether we were over sand or coral, there were fish. All shapes and sizes and colours. Large schooling fish I would have liked to have taken home for dinner. Trumpeter fish with their oversized beaks. Leather jacket, angel fish, Nemo (well, his relatives) and so many more I didn’t recognise. Magic.

Pretty and  slightly over-exposed.

Back on shore, we retired to our tent for showers and a spot of reading on the verandah. The sun and the breeze ensured our gear dried quickly. The only disturbance was the aircraft. Planes heading out to the reef whale spotting or just sight-seeing and the jets. I assume they were heading for Learmonth which is, after all, a Defence base. And Tinnitus droning away in their tent.

A Nankeen Kestrel falcon.

Sal Salis is one of those resorts where everything is included in the price. Unlike some cruises we’ve been on that profess the same, Sal Salis is the real deal, we paid for nothing after we arrived. An ordinary day offered breakfast, lunch, canapes and dinner with the alcohol cupboard being freely accessed whenever you like. It being Jayne’s birthday, we thought lunch might be nice. The choice was burrata and whatever or bugs and a capsicum (muhammara style) sauce.

Bugs. Wow. Two full bugs with the capsicum sauce and a baguette. I didn’t need to eat that much, but it would have been wasteful not to finish. Absolutely delicious. Even the two corellas that wanted to share my lunch could not distract me. Corellas and bugs despatched, we repaired to the Lodge interior to avoid the sun and consume some more Chardy.

He was uninvited.

Horror of horrors. I pulled the wine bottle from the fridge and commenced to pour. The pour was terminated abruptly with a gasp loud enough for Jayne to hear 15 metres away. Some philistine had returned a red wine bottle to the row of chardonnay and I had inadvertently poured red wine into Jayne’s glass. In my defence, the bottles were similar. And who expects to find a red in the fridge? Even up here.

Lunch done, it was back to the tent for a rest before our next meal. It’s a tough life. OK, maybe I spent time writing this blog and reading. What am I reading you enquire? Evie Wyld’s latest, The Echoes. I wanted to dislike it because I haven’t forgiven the Miles Franklin judges for awarding her the Miles over Flanagan’s Narrow Road to the Deep North. The latter did go on to win the Booker so my judgement was vindicated. Quite like the new book though. About half way through. We’ll see. The ending may disappoint, like that of Immaculate By Anna McGahan. Discuss.

A wine induced afternoon snooze followed (for me) before we raised ourselves and changed for dinner. Another excellent three courses: scallops for entrée, rib eye for main and a white chocolate mousse for dessert. As it was Jayne’s birthday, her mousse came resplendent with a ‘happy birthday’ chocolate disc. And a rousing version of ‘happy birthday’, kicked off by the staff and taken up by the guests.

A starry night.

Back at the tent I attempted some night photography. “Attempted” is the correct verb, dear reader. Over exposed. I blame the full moon and will try again tomorrow night. At least I know how to shoot the stars now, Dave. Sadly, they are not as impressive as the night sky on the Larapinta. There is potential, but not with a full moon.

Too much light from the moon.

Until tomorrow.

Stranded (Perth - Learmonth - Sal Salis)

The flight from Perth to Learmonth was uneventful and surprisingly the plane was not quite full. One of the air stewards informed us there had had been major issues in Sydney due to storms and many flights had been cancelled. So glad we flew out a day earlier, otherwise we could well have been stranded too. The inspiration for today's title, Stranded by the Saints, the first real punk band.

The flight landed on time, dear reader, but the singular baggage handler wanted to make his presence felt by moving with the speed of a glacier in an ice age. 40 minutes after disembarking the plane, our bag came through the carousel flap. Erin from Sal Salis was waiting for us and we were soon on the mini-bus heading for the resort. There is no road across the Cape Range due to its environmental and ecological significance. A surprise for the mining state. The range is riddled with caves, 500 plus and counting, that are being mapped and explored, revealing new species after new species. The scientists have enough work for many years to come. The road trip from the airport requires driving up into Exmouth and down the other side of the Cape Range. A trip of around 90 minutes.

Camping, but not really.

The resort is a series of 16 glamping tents, complete with ensuite and a communal lodge where meals and refreshments are enjoyed. After the usual ‘onboarding’ experience, we were shown to our tent, number 13, and unpacked our bags. It being close to canapé time, we then adjourned to the deck attached to the Lodge to enjoy a wine. Open bar - free pour as they say in the cruise brochures. Nice.

Home for the next four nights.

Canapés were delicious and we sat and chatted with other patrons as dinner approached. A three course delight with paired wines. The chef is French. Or at least he speaks with an outrageous French accent. The food was delightful, as was the dinner company, a couple all the way from, well, Ultimo. We’re almost neighbours.

The first sunset.

The moon is approaching full, but stars were difficult to spot due to the cloud. The night brought a rain storm which sounded spectacular on the canvas. I just rolled over and pulled the doona cover a little tighter. Ah, bliss. Not a siren to be heard.

Our start in the morning was relatively early. We needed to be at breakfast by 7 for a 7:45am departure for our mega-fauna tour. Although I’m sure those that left for the 5:45am sunrise walk would say we had it easy. There was quite an array of options for breakfast, fresh fruit, an açai bowl, the ubiquitous bacon and eggs and so on. Suitably sustained, we jumped into the golf buggy and headed for the carpark at Mandu South to pick up our lift to the boat ramp. Smooth as silk. Unlike the water this morning. 

The morning break.

The storm that hit Perth as we were leaving yesterday, side-swiped us and the swell was running at about 3 metres. Not enough to stop the trip but enough to make things interesting. In contrast to our Manta Ray swim last year, the boat we were on had only 7 passengers and 4 crew. A nice ratio.

A random flower. Pretty.

Safely on board we headed for a lagoon snorkelling spot where our guides could surreptitiously check out our ability levels. The water was a delightful 25° and I did the first swim without a wetsuit. Visibility was extremely poor and as an event, the first snorkel was forgettable. But today we weren’t here to snorkel in the lagoon and soon the boat was pointing north, out beyond the reef, looking for a Whale Shark.

This is what a whale shark looks like.

After the usual safety talk, we were soon sitting on the marlin board on the stern of the boat, eagerly anticipating our first sighting. The water was still warm but we all had on steamers on and lined up as we’d been told. Into the water, into another line and then the call, “face in water” and out of the gloom emerged a whale shark. Just brilliant. It moved so languidly, carrying so many sucker fish. A slight movement of the tail propelling it forward; the swell buffeting it as much as it did us. The turquoise spots reflecting the sun. And then our time was up and we returned to the boat.

This guy dropped by too.

We were one of 7 vessels chasing a whale shark sighting at that spot. There were two or three other sightings but the whale sharks there weren’t being particularly cooperative and submerged as people came close. The result for us, was a highly coordinated ballet of bodies, moving into and out of the water to spend their time swimming along with this behemoth of the seas. 

Beyond cool.

And so we did. Five times. On the fourth pass I was at the end of our line and the last to put my head into the water. Unbeknown to me, the shark had changed direction and was moving directly toward me. I submerged to see it within in a metre and half of me, much closer than expected and had to swim backwards to avoid a collision. He rolled onto his side as he passed, attempting to protect his soft underbelly.

About 5 metres in length.

Our fifth swim saw the water more clouded and the shark was less clearly defined. Compounding this was the fact that he’d had enough and began his descent from the surface back into the depths of the Indian Ocean. Unfortunately for the group next in the water, they would see little more than a murky shape. As it eventuated, this particular group had made numerous attempts to see a shark throughout the day. This was their last, and another failed attempt. We had been so fortunate.

Celebrating the day.

Back on shore, Kate drove us back to the pick-up point where our golf buggy chariot awaited. A hot shower and a change of clothes meant it was time to adjourn to the Lodge for the afternoon, rosé and some nibbles. Ah, paradise.

The gang.

We met some new people in our attempt to find dry seats. The unexpected deluge from last night had left all the outdoor furniture cushions wet. A couple from Tasmania. Like everyone else we have met so far, there was an amazing back story … time spent working in Antarctica. Incredible. Dropped into the conversation like you’d say, “I’m off to the shops. Do you need anything?” Another brilliant three course meal followed. Prawns, gold banded snapper and passionfruit tart. With paired wines, of course.

That's all for now.

Until tomorrow.

 

Art for Art's Sake (Sydney - Perth)

And so dear reader today finds us in the Qantas Business Lounge at Perth airport. Yes, it’s time for another trip, albeit a brief one. By the time this gets published, we will be back home in Sydney. Today we are heading for a place off the grid. More on that later.

We left Sydney on Friday morning. Unlike our last trip to Perth, Qantas did everything right this time. As you know, I have not been a Qantas fan for some time and despite a smooth journey to Perth, it is still too soon to forgive them. They have much ground to make up.

Unhappily the alarm went off at 5:15am. We had pre-booked an Uber for 6:15am and all went smoothly. We had checked our bag, cleared security and were comfortably seated in the Qantas lounge in Sydney before 7am. Having lost my Platinum status, the Business Lounge is now only an option if we are flying Business Class. And we are today, thanks to my bank of Frequent Flyer points.

Unlike our last dodgy trip to Perth where we were diverted via Melbourne, this flight was direct. It was also on an A330-200 which means space and a flatbed, should my back require a stretch. A much better arrangement than the sub-par Business Class seats on the aging 737 fleet.

The flight was uneventful, although the landing was a little on the agricultural side. Our bag even arrived on the same plane. All was going well. Our first challenge was to find the train to Perth. Signage at Perth airport seems to be for those who already know their way around. We discovered this last year. While there were signs pointing to the trains, they soon disappeared, leaving us standing in a car park wondering where we went wrong.

Ever the problem solver, Jayne decided to ask someone in the terminal. Apparently, the trains are accessed at Redcliffe Station, a brief shuttle ride away or 20 minute walk, if you feel you need the trial of a bag drag. I wanted neither and opted for a taxi. Rome to Rio suggested a taxi fare would be around $35. Not even close and we saw parts of Perth we’d never seen before as the driver went out of his way to ensure a high tariff.

We were at the Adnate Art Hotel on Hay Street by midday. The hotel has a large mural painted on its side, a characteristic shared by other destinations in the group, hence today's title. Art for Art's Sake is by 10CC from way back when I was in year 10. Uncharacteristically, our room was not ready, so we went for a walk prior to finding a suitable watering hole - Willi’s Wine Bar in what was once the Royal Perth Hotel and were soon seated, enjoying a bottle of Fiano.

Finding a pub proved a little more difficult than we had imagined. There is still a pub on every corner in Sydney, not so in Perth. Willi’s was a welcome oasis in a desert of shopping options. 

Once we had checked in and stowed our bags, we decided an early dinner would be a priority. It’s only a two hour time difference but the early start was having an impact on energy levels. There was an Italian restaurant, Simple Italian, in the next block over, that had good reviews so that’s where we dined. Pizza, a pasta and lobster dish and a bottle of Montepulciano in an empty restaurant. Bonus. We wandered back to the hotel and had our complimentary nightcap before crashing (relatively) early.

Our last Friday night stay in Perth was on Murray Street which turned out to be party central. Hay Street was a little quieter except for the multi-story carpark near our hotel. The sound of over-revving cars was clearly heard until I drifted off to sleep.

Saturday morning brought overcast skies and eventually, rain. The latter not until we were safely at the airport. Hay Street was quite deserted. In fact, there were less people than Liberal nominations for the upcoming NSW council elections. Ha, laugh, so funny! And they want to run the state and the country. Anyway, we set off in search of a café for breakfast.

The ‘best coffee’ recommendation proved a dud because there was nowhere to sit. It was very much a take-away service. However, across the mall was Espresso and Prosecco. It had an indoor and outdoor option. It had the usual breakfast menu as well as some delectable Italian sweets. Cannoli for breakfast? It was possible. It was tempting. I remained strong. No cannoli.

Better than Prague and not as far to travel.

The café was next door to the London Arcade which sports a decorative clock above its archway. It chimed on the quarter hour and the jousting knights moved back and forth. Most exciting. Do not mock me, dear reader. Have you seen the Astronomical Clock in Prague? It attracts a far bigger crowd and is less spectacular.

As we were enjoying our coffee, we noticed a shop across the mall that had attracted a crowd, queued up around the corner of the building. This was unusual for this hour in Perth. As the knights jousted and the clock chimed 9am, the doors of YKC opened and the crowd surged into the shop. The queue, by this time, stretched down the alleyway and people just kept coming. Amazing. It is, according to Dr Google, a New Zealand clothing company. Street wear, if you will. The sort left over from the ‘90s, with baggy knee height crotches. Not quite my style.

Queued all the way down the lane they were.

Back to the hotel. Check out time and into an Uber for a much quicker and significantly cheaper trip back to the airport. Driving down the Perth streets revealed statues/sculptures just about everywhere we looked. I didn’t notice them last year even though we walked around the CBD. Must do a proper guided walking tour of Perth on our next visit.

We discovered once we had cleared security, that the Qantas Club was closed and we were diverted to the Business Lounge. Happy days.

Our next flight is to Learmonth, the airport for Exmouth, and the spectacular Ningaloo Reef. This trip is  he final piece of the COVID puzzle. Before the pandemic, I had planned a stay at Sal Salis. When we finally made the journey from Perth to Broome last year, we added a trip through the Kimberley to Darwin and in the re-organisation, Sal Salis got bumped.

Approaching Learmonth

Sal Salis is an eco-resort at Yardie Creek in the Cape Range National Park. Yes, it is glamping with fine dining. The tents are behind the sand dunes and it is a stroll to the water’s edge and the Ningaloo Reef. We will be off the grid for the next 5 days which is why this will be actually posted from Sydney.

The magical colours of the gulf.

Until tomorrow.

 

It ain't over til it's over (Ellery Creek and Standley Chasm, Alice Springs, Northern Territory)

The 6:55am breakfast call came for the last time. It was a more relaxed beginning to the day and we had until 9am to pack up. We gathered around the fire pit to cook toast over the coals and enjoy a cup of tea. Finally, the wind had dropped and, what was supposed to have been a relatively warm evening, turned out to be the coldest so far. Clear skies and an eternity of stars. Marcus’ swag was fringed with ice as were all the tents. The interior sparkled with ice crystals from the condensation, as did many of the tent tops.

An icy morning.

Dave and I packed up quickly and Dave was appointed Camp Inspector, required to check all tents before we departed. In the meantime, we went in search of the bower of the resident bowerbird. Another Western Bowerbird with the usual pink mullet. He was a frequent visitor to the kitchen to steal food and items for his bower. We had been watching him for days, trying to work out where his bower might be hidden.

What's for dinner?

Ultimately, after discussions with Jonny, we decided on the ridge line behind the camp site and set out to find it. We were partly correct. It was on the ridge, but the second ridge.

The kitchen.

Again, we watched and followed and were led on a merry chase. Divide and conquer, Machiavelli advised and so we did. We explored either side of the scrub line. While Dave was conducting a ground search, I kept watch of the skies. Eventually, he returned to the tree near his bower. Gotcha.

Discovered.

We backtracked and found the bower. Given all the items stolen from the kitchen, I expected more. The most amusing was a post it note reminding someone to "take the T-shirts to Ormi". A few photos were snapped and we returned to camp. Dave returned with Jonny so he was aware of where his nemesis resided.

Our transport.

The final event at camp was the surprise presentation of T-shirts to all the trekkers. Words of thanks were spoken. We were grateful for the experience and Trek Tours Australia were grateful we had chosen them. In all seriousness I could not recommend them highly enough. They are a totally professional outfit. The guides we spent time with were all passionate and knowledgeable.

Ellery Creek like you've never seen it. Dave's photo.

Bags stowed in the trailer, we boarded the bus for Ellery Creek. It was too early for a swim. The temperature was in single digits. However, it was a beautiful scene with trees reflected in the water. We admired the view, nailed a few classic photos and marshalled ourselves for a team photo before heading to Standley Chasm.

Beautiful,  but Dave's photo is better.

We arrived shortly after midday when the sun is almost directly over the top of the walls. Visitors were few in number and we strolled the path down to the chasm and shared the space with another couple as we made the most of the excellent unpopulated photo opportunity. Obligatory photos taken, we returned to the trail and the climb up to the lookout where we would be enjoying lunch.

Ellery Creek ... again.

It was a reasonably short climb, but quite steep. The view from the ridge allowed you to look back over the chasm in one direction and out across the range in the other. Lunch was as good as ever and everyone was in a celebratory mood. The end was in sight and we had achieved what we had set out to do.

Budgies.

And then it was over. We were back on the bus heading to our respective hotels. Not that they were far apart. It was agreed we would meet for pre-dinner drinks at the Double Tree.

A White necked Heron.

Before that though there would be showers. Showers! And phone calls home.

Standley chasm.

Drinks were great and Jonny and Lucas turned up unexpectedly. The other surprise was, it was Alice Show Day, a public holiday, the second that week. This one apparently necessitated a 15% surcharge on all drinks. I’m so glad Malcolm Turnbull got rid of penalty rates when he was PM - it stopped price gouging. The bosses win again. Anyway, we sat around chatting and reliving past glories until it was time for dinner.

The view from our lunch spot.

And that was pretty much it. There is no need for a separate post for the transit day. It went as expected. The plane was late. The Qantas lounge wasn’t open when we arrived so we were forced to breakfast in the public café. The guy behind the counter was not having a good day and my ham and cheese croissant was served up looking like road kill from the Larapinta Drive. It was ever thus.

Two of our guides: Jonny and Lucas.

Lenny Kravitz sang "it ain't over til it's over" but we know it's over. For now. Until the next adventure. 

 

We're already discussing the Tarkine in '25.