Many Rivers To Cross (Wunambal Gaambera country, Mitchell Plateau, King Edward River, Mitchell Falls Wilderness Lodge, WA)

Despite the thin walls, dear reader, we had a relatively good night's sleep. The continuing issue is connectivity. Even in areas that profess wifi internet access, the speed is reminiscent of the old dial-up days and not commensurate with NBN or satellite speeds. Access may be available but the bandwidth was as narrow as my appreciation of country music. Actually, no, that's non-existent. It was as narrow as Dutton's vision for Australia, no, also non-existent. As narrow as a racist's understanding of Indigenous culture. And as frustrating.

By now, my astute reader, you will have realised that I am in fact not in the wilds of Western Australia, admiring the endless blue sky of the Kimberley. I am sitting in the comfort of  my own home in Sydney. The long days, lack of connectivity and the corrugated roads severely limited my ability to blog on a daily basis. Now that I am home and following my own timeline, I am catching up with the blog.

There were flowers everywhere.

The first stop today was at Munurru campsite for morning tea where we met some very cheeky pied butcherbirds who were so tame as to expect to be fed by passing tourists. As soon as they saw us eating, down they flew and waited expectantly until they were fed by hand. Sorry, no pictures.

Zarieka explaining the story.

This is Wunambal Gaambera country and we were here to visit the Wandjina rock art site through which we were escorted by a local indigenous ranger.  It is quite amazing the number of 'indigenous experiences' we have had over the years that were conducted by non-indigenous guides. As Capes (our indigenous guide) said at Monkey Mia when telling his story, only those from country have the right to tell their story, so it was gratifying to meet Zarieka (I hope the spelling is correct) and hear some of the stories related to the art.

Of course the Bradshaw art movement was named by a white fella, after himself, because he was the first European to see this particular style. He wasn't an artist, just someone with a big ego.

Wandjina. Spirit beings.

Zarieka told the story of how the scaly-tailed possum got his scaly tail and how the echidna got his spikes. As always there is a lesson behind the story and the moral of this one is not to steal. The echidna was trying to steal the possum's food and was caught and pushed from the pandanus tree. As he fell he gripped the possum's tail and tore the skin from it. He landed on his back on the spiky pandanus. These became his spikes and he was destined to walk the ground and never climb again - as punishment from the Wandjina.

The echidna.

After an informative tour of the rock art site, we went to the Ranger Station where we were able to purchase books about the artworks and dreaming stories as well as T-shirts. We already possess a book on Gwion Gwion Art so we bought an illustrated version of the possum and echidna story and a T-shirt. You know I can't resist.

Back in the truck we drove back to Munurru campsite for lunch by the King Edward River and the mandatory refreshing dip. The King Edward was just one of multiple river crossings spawning today's title from a favourite, Linda Ronstadt from her 1975 album Prisoner in Disguise. There was even a metal pool ladder attached to the rock ledge to allow for easy access between the water and land. It was another beautiful vista which we shared with three families travelling together and one unfortunate couple who were invaded by the rest of us. Jayne sat down to enjoy lunch and was asked by the couple next to her where we had been. I could see the questioning look on her face and told her that they were not a part of our tour. "Oh," she exclaimed laughing. "I thought it was strange that someone from our group would ask where we've been." 

Before the peace was shattered.

Downstream from the swimming hole was another waterfall and the evidence of the impact of the wet season on the surrounding area. Sandstone rock polished smooth by the relentless force of the water.

The falls beyond the pool.

The other entertainment for the afternoon was a Wedge-tailed Eagle slowly climbing the thermal air currents high into the sky, being pursued by two ravens. It was amusing because the ravens appeared to be quite earnest in their attempt to drive the eagle away and it was totally unconcerned and leaving their airspace anyway.

I heard something in there ... no I did not investigate.

After a relaxing lunch and swim, we boarded the bus to once again re-acquaint ourselves with corrugated roads and red dust as we drove to Mitchell Falls Wilderness Lodge, another tented, glamping accommodation site owned by APT. The wifi proved as woeful as we all expected, but, just over the ridge was an Aboriginal community and they used Optus. As do I. Happy days, I could at least hotspot in our tent.

Until next time.