Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (Bell Gorge/Dalmanyi, WA)

The morning commenced with a most raucous racket, dear reader. The likes of which we had never heard before. I thought it was the end of days. It continued for a number of minutes, ensuring everyone at the lodge was awake. "What is that?" croaked Jayne from her side of our king bed, sometime around 4:30 am. It was a bird, or more accurately birds, but I had no idea what variety. Needless to report, sleep did not fully return. Breakfast was at 6:30 anyway and the light arrives later up here in the north. So we dozed for a while until breakfast where the disruptive bird was named as the Blue-winged Kookaburra. It's like our Kookaburra in the east except it just can't get the laugh out and keeps repeating the beginning sounds. A veritable cacophony of squawking. Not quite music to my ears at that time of day.

A juvenile pied butcherbird near the food tent.

Although we did not spot them at Bell Gorge they made their presence felt regularly. Today we headed for Dalmanyi, the gorge area and swimming spot after which the wilderness retreat is named. It was back into the truck searching for our seats after the daily rotation.

Resting on the drive to the gorge was not on the agenda due to the corrugated nature of the Gibb River Road and the fact that, Kylie, one of our guides felt compelled to provide information about the area.

Debris in the tree from the wet season.

Of course there was the regular hyperbolic description of the walk to the falls. Except the word 'walk' was replaced by 'hike'. This was accentuated, significantly and unnecessarily, ad nauseum. While I understand the reasoning behind the exaggerated description and overt warning, I don't believe it is effective. The people it should apply to always believe the warning is for someone else. I've seen it previously. Besides, everyone on this trip was capable of completing this walk, sorry, hike.

How blue is a Kimberley sky?

Dalmanyi is part of Bell Creek and is located on Silent Grove Road. The creek system is fed by water from the Wunaamin-Miliwundi Ranges and it is a beautiful spot to swim and relax in the dry season. There is a pool above the falls for those who feel the 2km walk, sorry, hike, from the car park is sufficient exercise on a hot day.

The pool above the falls.

For the more adventurous, me, there is a short walk across the escarpment and a bit of a rock scramble to access the pool below the falls. The water in both pools is quite refreshing, or cold as it was described by others.

The falls and pool below.

The walk from the carpark, although quite picturesque, was challenging in parts, not because it was particularly arduous, but because you were walking on the creek bed. It was predominantly river rock, unstable, difficult to negotiate at times, and hard on the ankles.

A Kimberley Rose or Sticky Kurrajong.

After admiring the view and enjoying an energising swim, our time in Dalmanyi ended all too quickly. It was back along the rocky creek bed to the car park and lunch at Silent Grove (Dulmundi) Camp Ground.

A Rainbow Bee-eater. 

This is an APT tour where too much food is barely enough. Lunch was wraps, fruit and juice. I snapped a few bird photos while Kylie led us in a name game to ensure that we all remembered each other's name. Any teacher would be familiar with this game where everyone sits in a circle and the first person says their name and the next person repeats it and states their name. The variation to this was the requirement to attach something to your name. For instance, we had Ken who became Ken and Barbie, and Brian who became the Life of Brian and Teresa who became Mother Teresa. You get the picture and now understand today's title. It became a bit of a them for us. Remember it, from the Monty Python movie of the same name.

Peaceful Dove

After lunch, it was back to the wilderness lodge to rest for a while before dinner. We arrived around 4 pm and dinner was set for 6:30 pm, a pattern that became quite familiar over the next few days. Dinner was a typical APT affair, three courses although, unlike the overseas tours, wine was at your own cost.

The morning light comes late and the night arrives early in the Kimberley. After a lovely dinner, it was time to return to our tent and get some much needed sleep.

Until next time.

Ring My Bell (Broome - Derby - Dalmanyi/Bell Gorge)

After setting our own agenda for the last 11 days or so, the alarm going off in the dark was quite confronting. We had organised our bags the night before so we really only had to deal with an early breakfast and then be on the bus by 7am. In what would become routine, we placed our bags on the front porch and walked to the restaurant.

The morning brought with it a surprise, dear reader. The sunrise in Broome is also beautiful and worthy of a photo - if only I'd had my camera and been alert enough. True, it may lack the colour of those ripping beach sunsets, but I'd rate it.

The bus or truck, seats 22 passengers with our 2 guides up front. There are 21 guests on this trip. The seat rows are numbered, not numerically, and each day we need to move to the next number up. We sat in seat 5 so tomorrow we'll be in seat 6. The abstract allocation of the seat numbers and the rotation means that everyone sits in all positions on the truck. We later found out why this was so important, and it wasn't just the view.

It's good not be driving.

Like many large vehicles the steps for access and egress were built for or designed by Brobdingnagians. For someone of my height, it meant that each step had to be negotiated separately. The seats were comfortable and the windows expansive to ensure nothing was missed. There was also a small screen TV attached to a camera that filmed to the never ending road before us.

The Boab Prison Tree

Our first stop was the aptly named Boab Prison Tree. It was, unsurprisingly used to imprison people. Well, that's the legend. Apparently there is no proof to support this theory. However, it is a registered Indigenous site of cultural significance. The story goes that the tree was used to house Aboriginal people who were being transported to jail at Derby.

The Prison Tree.

The boab tree is quite a feature of the land out here. It's distinctive bottle shape is easily recognised and unlike other trees has managed to escape the pillage and plunder of white colonialists. So far. Why? Excellent question my curious reader. The interior of the tree is quite fibrous and is therefore not particularly useful as fire wood or for building or, I imagine, pulping for the Japanese market.

The tree is fenced off today to dissuade visitors from getting too close but the fence is merely a suggestion. The sign warning of snakes is probably more convincing.

Dimulurru

Our next stop was to have been Tunnel Creek or Dimulurru, a 750m long tunnel carved out of the limestone by water courses in the Napier Ranges. Sadly this was not possible as the recent rain has swollen the waters of the tunnel to the extent that it required us to swim not wade through a section in the dark and this was deemed to be too risky. I mean, a 40 metre swim in freezing water in the dark, where's the risk?

Willare Road House

The Road House is most important out here given the massive distances that can be covered each day. And not just for fuel. Many have tourist parks or picnic grounds attached to allow travellers to stretch their legs. Willare was no different, except it had a couple of Boab trees that still held a single flower.

Unusual to be in flower at this time of year.

Derby

Instead we headed to Derby for a tour of the Norval Gallery, where local First Nations artists' work is promoted and you can actually watch art being created as you wander through the studio. After a brief introduction to the local style of painting, we browsed and then headed out to the jetty for lunch and a wander to view the mud flats, exposed by the huge Derby tides. Some locals were fishing and had a catfish, among others. The water was a fast moving, swirling mass of silt. Most attractive.

The swirling expanse of the Fitzroy River.

Wandjina by a local artist.

One of Mark Norval's pieces.

The mudflats.

Bell Gorge Wilderness Lodge

After the break, we set out for our accommodation, Bell Gorge Wilderness Lodge, for our first night of glamping and outdoor dining.  The lodge was in the middle of the national park with a central dining and bar area surrounded by tents, each with a deck, a bedroom and an ensuite bathroom and pathetic internet connectivity. I know, I know, first world problems, dear reader.

Home for the next two nights.

After settling in for the two night stay, it was time for pre-dinner drinks with our travelling companions as well as another APT group who were staying at the lodge. Recurrent crossing of paths with different tour groups was to become a feature of the trip, as a fleet of APT and other tour operators roam around the Kimberly following variations of the same itinerary.

One traveller from the other group, a fellow Bunnies supporter, expressed her grave disappointment that, due to the rain,  their group had not been able to reach the Bungle Bungles. This was her main reason for the trip and justifiably, she felt cheated. They did fly the group over the range as a sweetener, but she had already ticked that box and wanted to walk amongst the domes. Of course the reality is that so much of these itineraries is at the mercy of nature. We weren't sure we would even leave Broome given the Gibb River Road had been closed as we drove up the coast.

No babies here. Move on young fella.

Anyway, a pleasant evening was had and then to bed, after the temperature took a notable dive post sunset. We slid under the multiple layers on the bed, alarm set for an early rise to set out on the first real day of the "inland adventure".

Are you being slightly critical of toady's title my dear reader? That is a tad harsh. It is difficult to get a blog finished with photos in a climate of narrow bandwidth and questionable connectivity. The early mornings are dulling my usually razor sharp wit. Anyway, it's a disco classic from my youth. Anita Ward from 1979.

Until next time.