Walk like an Egyptian (Karratha to 80 Mile Beach and Broome)

After a breakfast of leftover pizza and refuelling, we chose to head straight out of Karratha and leave the angst behind. The non-stop drive to Eighty Mile Beach Caravan Park was to take about 5 hours and, although we had originally planned to have a break at Port Hedland, once there, we decided to push on to give ourselves time to go for a beach walk along part of the renowned stretch of white sand.

While we didn’t need fuel to get to 80 Mile, it was a bit disconcerting when we had already driven through South Hedland, to see a sign saying the next roadhouse was closed. Out here, the roadhouses feature on the state map because the distances are so vast and you may not be able to get from one town to the next without a fuel stop. To expect a roadhouse to be mid-journey and find out it is closed, reminds you of how much you cannot take for granted in these parts. We are always conservative about fuel estimates and take extra water with us, just in case. The only plus side of the school holidays is that you won’t have to wait too long before someone comes along if you suddenly find yourself in trouble.

We didn’t realise it but the Park is actually at the end of 10 kms of dirt road. Luckily it is regularly graded and the weather forecast for the foreseeable future is sunny days. Rain would have made our departure for Broome the next morning rather interesting.

At the end of the dirt road, we joined a queue of vehicles pulling vans to enter the park. After some indecision, the queue started to move slowly so we stayed in line until we could see the reception area and I went down the road to see what the process was to check in.

By the time I came back outside with the cabin key, the queue had dissipated and we drove straight to our cabin at the far end of the park. To say it was not very salubrious would be an understatement – think of half a demountable classroom with cyclone-mesh in the windows and vents. Oh well, it was only for one night and had a bed, a toilet and shower although the noise generated when you turned the hot water tap on, was so loud, it sounded like it was heralding an explosion in the system. It was an effective deterrent from spending too long under the water.

Home sweet home.

After settling in, we headed off towards the beach, camera in hand to capture the birdlife which included numerous zebra finches, a sacred kingfisher, whistling kites and rainbow bee-eater.

Stylish and colourful.

They were everywhere despite the proximity of the campers. While the numbers were prolific, they still played hard to get for a photo which required some stealthy approaches before we headed down to the beach.

The sand certainly does stretch further than the eye can see in either direction but the view was blocked by the rows of 4-wheel drives that were parked directly behind where their owners were fishing.

80 Mile Beach is actually 220km long.

Clearly, this is a major pastime for those who frequent this piece of the coastline. Rather, I should clarify that the pastime appears to entail driving along the sand and then wetting multiple lines. I can’t say that the process is fishing because, in all the time we were there, we never actually saw anyone catch anything. 

Sacred kingfisher.

There were plenty of shells to collect and some people were swimming in what looked like a never-ending sand bar; no snorkelling here as it is just sandy shallows. Other than that, after a wander in one direction for about half an hour, we headed back to the park for some more bird photography, followed by an early dinner of cheese and biscuits.  The internet connectivity was very weak so, with no blogging possible, it was early to bed, after repacking the bags to put everything superfluous into the big red suitcase, to ensure we had the required 2 soft bags for the organised inland tour.

Not quite the Shell Beach.

Next morning, we drove back to the sealed road and turned towards our final independent destination, Broome. We had already checked that the roadhouse between 80 Mile Beach and Broome, the Sand Fire, or Samfire or Sanfire (the spelling varied every time I saw it in print) was open because we would have been pushing it to have had sufficient petrol to make it into Broome, despite the good fuel economy that the car has maintained.

Rainbow Bee-eater.

The signage for the roadhouse was a couple of pyramids made of tyres and the link to today's title, a classic by The Bangles from 1986.  Before we reached the pyramids, we saw a queue of vehicles pulling trailers, lined up out of the drive and down the side of the highway. It took a moment for us to realise that this was the diesel pump queue and happily, we were running on 91 unleaded. As a result of not being in the 4-wheel drive club, we rolled up to the bowser, filled up and were on our way before those in the queue had advanced two places.  We can only assume the line would have continued to lengthen as the day went on.

A short while later, we made it into Broome and, after more refueling, we drove to Cable Beach Club Resort, our accommodation and dinner destination to meet and greet our guides and fellow travellers for the start of the APT Kimberley and the Top End tour.

Whistling kite.

While I parked the car and started to unload the bags, Jayne headed to reception to see if we could check in and to discuss possible options for transporting our large solid suitcase to Darwin. This was necessary as the APT Tour vehicle requires strict baggage guidelines on dimensions and material – soft bags only and one per person, plus a backpack. 

Our room was not yet ready but the question about the suitcase was proving to be a bit of a challenge for the reception staff who said they needed to consult the Head Porter. Clearly what had seemed to us to be an ordinary request, was not one they had encountered before.

Male Zebra Finch.

Ray, the Head Porter, then consulted someone else external to Cable Beach Resort, whose advice was to go with Oz Post rather than a private courier. Safer and quicker was the opinion. Jayne provided all the details about the Darwin destination and our contact details. She told Ray she would see if there was any way that they might bring the suitcase with us and would advise Ray that evening.

Meanwhile I had taken the name of a hotel recommended taxi driver and departed for the airport to ditch the trusty Camry after 3500 kms of faithful service. After achieving that, I called the taxi who said I would have to go in a queue until she asked me where I was. She happened to be at the airport, could actually see me and told me she’d back in 10 minutes to pick me up. True to her word, she returned and I was back at Cable Beach just as Jayne was checking in. 

Cable Beach.

We had enough time to have a slow wander down the beach and return for an afternoon wine and some nibbles. Then it was time to unload, shower and have a pre-dinner drink before meeting our Tour family for the next 17 days at the welcome dinner.

One of the resort residents.

The dinner was a mixture of introductions, administration and trying to remember peoples’ names. Jayne spoke to Dean and Kylie, our tour guides who were quite happy to help us out with the suitcase dilemma and so, after dinner we retrieved the suitcase from reception, thanked the staff for all their help and retreated to our room to get ready for the early departure that seems to be the standard M.O. for all things APT.

And with that our leisurely tour was over and we handed ourselves over to a timetable not of our choosing. Breakfast was at 6am tomorrow morning to ensure an early start on the road.

Until next time.