All in a Day #19 – Bali in a Weekend

Three and half hours gets you to Bali from Perth. Why not go for a weekend?

Day One

As we wind through narrow streets and torrential Bali rain, we dodge scooter drivers with no rear lights, helmets or shits given. Water covers the narrow treelined roads, almost jumping out to catch our car. Our intrepid driver grips the wheel as he honks the horn gently at each corner to warn of our approach.

An hour and a half from the craziness of Bali and the International Airport we arrive at our destination, Campuhan Sebatu Resort and our Balinese host who has waited up for our arrival. I hand our relieved driver an extra 100000 Rupiah knowing he still has to drive back!

Our accomodation is lush and I slip immediately into our private plunge pool before drying off and climbing into crisp white sheets beneath the shroud of a white muslin mosquito net and the whirring sounds of the forest.

Day two

Roosters, birds and forest sounds awaken me and I know that no matter how sleep deprived I might be, the view needs to be viewed and damn I am not wrong! Soft light reveals jungle as far as the eye can see (which is not super far with my bleary eyes!) The roof of the building in front of ours has a proud statue of a rooster and the pool reflects frangipanni trees so clearly it’s hard to distinguish reflection and reality.

The water in our pool is a cool green and we have the obligatory pissing boy on the corner, waiting for the fountain to be switched on so he can piss into our pool. The sounds are times ten louder outside the room – roosters, cicadas, frogs and birds loud and encompassing. I have indeed landed in paradise!

We have a day of wandering to water falls down narrow country roads flanked by rice fields and jungle. Two Balinese with woven carry baskets balanced on their heads stroll effortlessly before us, their low murmurs floating back to us. Chickens, athletic looking Balinese chickens, with long legs and no fluff forage roadside. A proud cockeral is locked in a small wire enclosure declaring his distaste for being locked up. A fighting cock perhaps?

Bali dogs never restrained and incredibly streetwise trot around with tails in the air. They don’t care for people. Two dogs see us off as we pass their property and check out two perfectly restored split-screen combis. I walk without looking back, unleashed dogs freak me out – twice bitten, always shy!

The waterfalls are not far down the steep road. 60000 Rupiah to enter Ulu Petanu. We can hear the water thundering from the road. Below the falls are hundreds of colourful carp swimming lazily with mouths agape and tails swishing. The ground is muddy and mud squeezes through our toes and hiking sandles.

The main waterfall is where everyone stops and strips down to their swimmers for Instagram pics – most don’t venture any further up the jungle path. We leave them all behind to find ourselves alone at the next small fall where we hold onto a rope and cross the river to see if we can find the cave that is apparently close by. No luck.

When we get back to the main fall the crowds have increased and the queue to get your insta pic is long. There are entire tours with the title ‘Instagram Tours of Bali’ it really is quite amusing.

We decide to head back to paradise. Wait, what – I think we are already there! Later that afternoon we meet up with my great friend and ex-teaching partner in crime, Jim, at the Bali Green School. Our trip back down the mountain now revealed in daylight what we couldn’t see the night before. We got the grand tour. Incredible bamboo structures, classrooms with no walls (hello open planning!) No airconditioning aside from fans and the jungle.

Animals with a chance of snakes including a mini herd of cows, pigs, rabbits, a pack of Bali dogs and a jungle playground with no restrictions, where the children run wild with no shoes! Every teachers ‘duty of care’ nightmare! They even have their own ambulance (I wonder why?)

Snakes are frequently spotted and removed during the school day. At the very bottom of the grounds is a mud pit where the kids play and learn. That afternoon’s lesson had been testing floating craft and the class went home covered in mud.

The tour over, we hand back our bamboo passes and wander across the road to a cocktail bar frequented by teachers enjoying Friday drinks. The cocktails are flowing and live music pumping. Two margaritas and some loose arrangements to meet up at Bambu Indah in Ubud later, we grab a Gojek driver and head back up the mountains. Bambu Indah is designed by the same people who designed the Green School so we were expecting loads of Bamboo!

So we get to the entrance of Bambu Indah which is sort of nondescript but we had googled the property beforehand so knew what to expect. The entrance, once we had signed a waiver (yes, a waiver) was this long stone tunnel so we headed for the light! Our host simply pointed us down the tunnel and disappeared so when we arrive at the crossroads it was a ‘choose your own adventure’ type experience.

We chose a fork and ended up in this amazing bar high above the rice fields and palm tree tops. We informed the waiter we were headed for the restaurant but she ushered us to some stools and took drink orders, trying to ply us with satays. We once again said ‘no, it’s ok we are going to the restaurant but we will wait for our friend’ (Jim)

Half an hour later we noted that some people were being ushered into a bamboo lift and disappearing down below. So we wondered if we were in the right spot. We took matters into our hands and asked if we could go down in the lift. ‘yes of course!’ Oh, OK we just had to ask? We had been sitting watching the sun go down (which was incredible!) while waiting patiently to be invited!

Down we go in this rickety bamboo structure carved into the cliff only to emerge into another tunnel. It soon becomes apparent why we signed a waiver! Once again we were pointed in a general direction until we reached a fork in the path. A swinging bamboo bridge or a rocky climb? We chose the swinging bridge. We continued to select our own turns and passing very close to a rushing river before stumbling (literally) into the restaurant!

It was dark by this time and we laughed about being on a Lara Croft type adventure to get to dinner. When we arrive we are told we need a reservation and that they have no tables but we were given a spot on some steps with a pillow or two and a low table. Jim arrived about 20 minutes later after taking a wrong turn!

Had we arrived at the restaurant in the light we would have seen the beautiful fresh water pools and swinging cane chairs – It’s ok I had googled it so I knew exactly what I was supposed to be seeing!

The amusing thing was the whole time we were there a table set for three was untouched – I’m sure it was ours! Anyway, we ate from a buffet type menu where all the items on the menu were grown and foraged from the property – delicious but way more expensive that any meals we had during our stay.

Day three

A delicious Nasi Goreng breakfast on the terrace at our resort washed down with fresh pineapple juice and Balinese coffee is followed by another swim before calling up a Gojek driver for an excursion into Ubud.

We have massage and day spa on our mind so following a wander through the town we settle on a small massage spa up a very steep stairway. Shoes off before we head up to be pummeled and scrubbed to within an inch of our lives! Two hours later and still wiping the petals off from our flower bath we decide to go to lunch.

Sun Sun Warung had been recommended as the place to go for eats so we found a lovely spot overlooking the rooftops and ordered the blue rice Nasi Goreng and an Arak cocktail. All food was served in banana leaf containers and it was so delicious, spicy and aromatic, I will have dreams about it for a very long time!

A Balinese painter balances in front of us on a bamboo scaffold wearing jeans and a hoody with bare feet. We are sweating in our shorts! On top of this he is within falling distance of a tangled mass of powerlines. I can’t watch!

We head back for a quiet night with some snacks and plans to relax by and in our pool. Bliss.

Day four

I woke up before the sun and crept out to capture the sunrise over Mount Agung, Bali’s highest mountain and still active volcano – last erupting in 2019. Sunrise did not disappoint!

Our flight that day was at 2:00 pm but knowing how long it takes to get from one end of Bali to the other we booked Made, our lovely driver, for 9:30 am. A swim or two while packing followed by Me Goreng and fresh juice for breakfast is a lovely way to spend our last morning. I even slip in a couple more swims after breakfast and make sure I absorb the view completely!

Bali in a weekend! We certainly packed a lot in and it truely was worth such a short trip, after all everyday can be an adventure!

What’s the skinny?

A few airlines service the Perth Bali run – we flew Air Asia which is budget but got us there and back o time with no issue. 3.5 hours from Perth

Our accomodation was pretty cheap as we went out of school holidays – Campuh Sebatu Resort is stunning and off the beaten track. Breakfast was included – delicious!

Transport around Bali is pretty easy to come by – we used Gojek (Bali Uber) and our drivers were all very accomodating. We actually hooked up with a local driver and he became our go-to for transport.

All in a Day #18 – Robert Ikin – a Life of Art

Tasmanian artist Robert Ikin 83, is my Dad. As the child of an artist, my siblings and I spent countless evenings huddled beside or under the cheese and biscuit table at art galleries, scoffing squares of cheddar and stale crackers. Around us, the adults sipped box red wine, smoked cigarettes, and talked about art and mundanities.

The scent of an art gallery is still fresh in my mind.  I recall smells of paint, wood varnish, cigarette smoke and seagrass matting, the floor covering of choice in the 70’s.  I would count red stickers when they appeared on pieces of work hung on white-washed walls and excitedly tug on Dad’s sleeve to relay the news of a sale.  He would stop talking and smile at me with raised eyebrows and then return to his conversation and his wine.

Robert last exhibited work in a gallery setting in 2016 at the Queen Victoria Museum, Inveresk, Launceston. The Revive Exhibition—curated by Ralf Haertel, featured work by individual artists and community groups with recycling and sustainability at it’s core.  Robert’s pieces were created from mixed media and found objects.

History

Robery Ikin’s resume spans decades, countries, and mediums. As a young painter in 1963 Robert was part of a group of Launceston Art School Graduates who named themselves ‘Images’ – Robert Ikin, George Richardson, Tim Waller, Wal Sutherland and Blair Gamble were the original five group members.  The group reunited in 2004 for a show in the Launceston City Centre Studio Gallery. Sadly, George , Tim and Blair have since passed.

The original members were the inspiration for another group of aspiring artists who called themselves ‘Images of Tasmania’.

The reunion of The Images in 2004

George Richardson, an incredible abstract artist and art educator, was my godfather.  He would always playfully ask me “are you reading your bible Lisa?”  I have vague memories of Tim Waller, a fine painter and also art educator and memories of weekends at Blair’s beautiful home in Hobart, as a child. Dad and Wally still regularly catch up and make music CDs together.

Around this time, 1964, I was born in Launceston at Queen Victoria Hospital.  We lived in a modern home in West Launceston, a stone’s throw from the Cataract Gorge.  We moved to live in Adelaide at some point, where Dad continued to paint but also worked a day job.  For as long as I could remember, he was a travelling salesman by day. We lived in a terrace house on Rundle Street. In my mind the sun was always shining. My sister was born there in 1967.

My first home in Launceston – a modern home for the time.

The sudden death of my mother when I was five brought significant change and trauma. We moved back to Tasmania, living with my grandmother for a time before dad remarried.  For a number of years, Dad was a lighthouse keeper, and we lived an isolated life with correspondence schooling on some of the most wild and remote islands in Tasmania and Australia. Eventually with new siblings (a sister and brother) and a need for me to attend high school, we moved back to the Tasmanian mainland when I was 12 years old.

In 1979, Robert completed a postgraduate qualification in ceramics at the School of Art, Tasmanian State Institute of Technology, Launceston, followed by his first exhibition at the Design Centre of Tasmania in Launceston. 

He was studying and practising art for most of my high school years. We lived out of town and on the last school bus stop for country town, Scottsdale. After living in isolation for so long it didn’t feel unusual to still be on the fringes.

I finished Year 10 at Scottsdale High in 1980 and in early 1981, there was a move to Darwin, where Dad took a job in a Darwin Art School. I went to year 11 in Darwin, met a boy and left home. I ended up living there for four years before fleeing the boy and the humidity to live in Perth. Dad only stayed a year in Darwin, returning to Tasmania with new partner, Gardie and plans to settle down.

Public Collections

Robert has exhibited widely throughout Tasmania and is represented in many public collections, including the Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, Devonport Regional Gallery, University of Tas Collection, Hobart and the Tasmanian Government’s Art for Public Buildings Scheme.

Another Short History of the World (detail) light box. Robert Ikin 2004 – QVMAG, Launceston Tasmania

Snakepit Gallery

In 1992, Rob and fellow artists Bea Maddock and Gardenia Palmer formed the Launceston Art Cooperative. The cooperative’s headquarters was a small disused warehouse in Launceston, which they named ‘Snakepit’ due to rumours that a snake trainer used to train snakes in the building! 

The space existed for local Launceston artists and craftspeople to exhibit freely as part of a cooperative membership. The gallery was a huge success and hosted over 100 fortnightly shows until 1996 when the cooperative dissolved due to fewer artists using the space. 

By this stage, I was living on the other side of Australia, and had birthed my first child, but I remember visiting the Snakepit when I was in Launceston. My grandmother was still alive as I have a photo sitting on the steps of the Snakepit with her. I’m sure seagrass matting was a feature.

No Poetry

One of Robert’s major works, ‘No Poetry,’ a mixed-media work using mainly found objects, was exhibited at the Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery in Hobart and The Queen Victoria Museum in Launceston.  Representing the eight months from January 1 to August 6, the finished work was presented on the anniversary of Hiroshima Day 1995. He recreated the work in 2001 and subsequently in 2013 as a moving sound and image piece.  

I have one piece from the No Poetry show, an exhibition I attended while visiting with family. My second baby was born in 1994 and I was still living in Perth.

Public Art

In 2000, Robert installed a huge ceramic work entitled “Mandala,” 8.5 metres in diameter, commissioned by the Tasmanian Government. The piece comprised 888 hand-made tiles, each hand-incised and hand-decorated. For the next few years, Robert consistently exhibited and installed public art throughout Tasmania.

Mandala 2001

Pictured below is some detail of the ceramic tiles installed at the Ulverstone Police building in 1996.

European Connections

2007 saw the first collaboration with the Netherlands and the University of Tasmania. Robert was part of the Tasmanie Project, “No Person is an Island” suite of works and “At the Hop” –  five short projection pieces at  Gallerie de Meerse, Hoofdorp, Netherlands.

Between 2010 and 2015, Robert Ikin and his wife and fellow artist Gardie Palmer exhibited in the Netherlands multiple times: 

  • Galerie ‘t Haentje Je Te Paart , Mels Dees. Middelburg
  • pARTners Kulturele Evenementen Groepen Schijndel in Schijndel
  • Museum allen Tijden.  
  • Ateliers Patagonia + Guests – KEG-expo, Schindel.

In 2008, he and Gardie lived in Paris as part of the prestigious Rosamond McCulloch Studio Residency at the Cite des Arts. Some of the work he made in Paris was exhibited in Marcher Sur La Pelouse—Exhibition from past residents of the McCulloch Studio in Paris at Plimsoll Gallery, Hobart, in 2009 and his ‘From Here to Patagonia’ show at Colville Street Art Gallery in Hobart in 2010.

Sculpture Projects

Robert  has been involved in many site-specific sculpture projects at incredible outdoor sites, including twice at Roaring Beach on the Tasman Peninsula, the Mt. Wellington Sculpture Trail, Jackeys Marsh Sculpture Trail, Shadows on the Water on the Upper Esk in N.E. Tasmania, and The National Rose Garden at Woolmers, all in Tasmania. 

 “dejeuner sur l’herbe” objects, clay and clay slip. Site specific work. Mount Wellington Sculpture Trail, 2002

I accompanied Dad to one of the Roaring Beach sculpture projects in 2001.  The location and the incredible pieces became the backdrop to my marriage breakup – if you’re going to have a crisis, why not in one of Tasmania’s wilderness locations and surrounded by art!

Solo Exhibition

His most recent solo exhibition, “Interactions,” was at Poimena Gallery in 2013, where he had just completed an Artist-in-Residency. This show included video documentation of “Solstice to Solstice,”  a piece based on daily divinations from winter solstice to summer solstice 2012, as well as new ceramics and digital works.

Exhibition 2024

Far from resting on his laurels, Robert has never stopped creating new work and is now on the eve of his first solo show in eight years.  

On May 16 2024, the walls at Gallows Art Space at Launceston College will become a temporary home to some of Robert’s newest works with a scattering of the old.  He says it’s a retrospective without being a retrospective- spanning years and encompassing a multitude of mediums from ceramics and oil painting to digital images and a mixture of all those things.  The show is a non-commercial show which Robert says gives him a lot of freedom to explore and create.  

He wants to show the links between old and new. For example, the patterns on some of his old ceramic pots are echoed in the work he is producing today.  Pieces from 10 years ago that he created using a lightbox have been brought back to life in new multimedia prints and collages.  Small ceramic figures mounted in a display box were recently turned into images on bathroom tiles in a private Launceston home.  The same figures have been featured for many years, both as ceramics and images. 

Robert currently works from his studio in the Tasmanian bush, a peaceful retreat from the hustle of city life, even though the closest semblance of ‘city life’ is the sleepy town of Launceston.  His studio is a place of seeming disorder and multi-layers of works, finished, part finished and repurposed.  It’s only when you spend time that you realise everything has its place in time and is a testament to Robert’s unique perspective and artistic processes.

Robert loves fine-tuning the pieces and eventually containing them in frames and perspex boxes, a process he finds exciting. He collects frames over a long period from second-hand shops, Op shops, and friends.  He then personalises each one by stripping them back, extending them to fit the unique 3D quality of his work.

I was privileged to spend a couple of weeks with Dad  earlier this year, observing the finishing touches to his latest exhibition. Come to the Gallows Art Space at Launceston College between 16 May and 16 June to see what promises to be the show of a lifetime. The opening will be held on Thursday 16 May 2024.

107-119 Paterson Street, TAS, 7250

Visit Robert Ikin’s Website

All in a Day #17 – Remote Paradise, is there any other?

Heaven is a remote paradise. Ansons Bay is two hours drive from one remote mountain paradise, Myrtle Bank in northeast Tasmania, to the ocean and the Bay of Fires.

Note: I have written about this trip before with more details and links. A link to my previous trip is at the end of this piece.

The Drive

Forest flashes past with green speed. Man ferns (person ferns?) tower over shrubs and shade rocky outcrops from the dappled sun. Moss underfoot (were I walking) so spongey and vital, green and alive. Gradually the landscape changes to become coastal plains. Dust flicks from the wheels of the speeding car and sea mist coats the distant outline of coastal hills, a blanket, slightly damp and salty.

Day One

The breeze plays gently with this morning’s swimwear pegged at a jaunty angle on the green plastic clothesline cord. Op shop pegs. The bathers brush provocatively against the towel as rain threatens our previously sunny disposition.

Pending rain and it looks like it will be a laydown on last night’s sandy sheets for a nap, drifting off to the sound of pitter patter on the roof. The birds rejoice. Sandy feet and skin soft from salt water immersion in the sandy shallows at Policeman’s Point followed by a cool rainwater rinse.

Dad washes the dishes outside on the tank stand before the rain sets in “we won’t have to rinse these!” he says. A car passes on the road with mountainbikes atop ready for action in Australia’s mountain bike capital – the formerly sleepy town of Derby. He pauses his washing and looks up, a single word escaping his lips, “Derby” and returns to his dishes oblivious to other sounds with his earbuds in.

Day Two

Evening drinks in the Caravan seated on unmade beds with sandy feet. A spur of the moment walk down to the shore for exercise and “to blow out the cobwebs”. Children play along the shore, taunting one another with names and actions. They freeze as we approach and say “Hi” selfconsciously.

The sand is soft and the weed underfoot squelches through toes. We leave the shore and walk along the road past houses bunkering down for the evening. Smoke escapes some chimneys despite the warmth of this summer night. A border collie strains on its chain and barks a warning, or is it an invititaion?

A bit further on a tall Bennett’s Wallaby speeds across the road in front of us. We freeze and watch her bounding retreat.

Day Three

A trip to St Helens for supplies, op shopping and fish and chips. It’s a tradition and a necessity. We get to town in time for date scones and coffee at our favourite cafe, then it’s meandering from op shop to tip shop, to op shop again. We fill the back of the car with our treasures – clothes, bric a brac, books and jewellery.

By lunch time we are ready for fish and chips on the wharf. Families wait on the jetty while the delicious smell of fresh fish wafts across the water. Young children with fishing lines cast hopefully into the bay.

Back to Ansons Bay for a siesta and plans for mussell foraging in the shallows, later that evening.

Day Four

It’s all sunshine and blue sky on the bay. A great day for a paddle? Feelers have already been put out for a kayak to borrow, but no reply, so a trip to the beach it is. We always stop and chat to the cows.

A final swim at Policeman’s Point where the tide is out. The blues astonish with their depth of field, water of varying depths and colours. The tide is receding fast – there is only time for a quick dip and out. We finish with a walk along the beach before going back to pack up camp to head for home.

Fold up beds, clear out perishables, leave no crumbs for the ants, turn off the gas, the water and lock all the doors. Packing is frantic and some get left behind. But is there another way?

On our way home we stop to check out the Little Blue Lake just out of Gladstone. Astounding colours that could only be created by a disruption to the environment – an old mining site.

The trip back to Myrtle Bank is the reverse with a stop in to Scottsdale for pies and pasties, sneaky lamingtons washed down with Farmer’s Union Coffee on sidewalk tables. A chat with some locals – lean in for some town gossip, familiar and warm.

Groceries purchased, and a final browse of the local op shops, we pass the remainder of the trip uneventfully. Happy to get back to showers and comfy chairs. Back to mountain paradise! Check out another trip to this part of the world here.

All in a Day #16 – Hyde Park – An Obituary?

My backyard

Hyde Park in Mount Lawley has been my backyard for over 30 years. A place of solitude, a running track, a picnic spot, a catch up with friends, a live music venue, a birdwatching platform, a dog walking park, a playground for my kids and now grandkids and most of all somewhere to go when the weather is stupidly hot.

My first visit to Hyde Park was within weeks of moving to Perth in the mid- eighties. My new friend and housemate, Glen, thrust a can of Emu Bitter in my hand and threw me my car keys (he didn’t drive) saying “I need to show you something.”

So, beer in hand we drove to Hyde Park from Subiaco and walked a couple of laps of this magnifcient park. No stranger to these types of parks, being from Tassie, I agreed it was beautiful and vowed to visit again soon. It became the place I took visitors to or went for a picnic occasionally.

It wasn’t until years later when I moved to within walking distance of Hyde Park that it became a regular haunt. We lived in a townhouse with a small courtyard and Hyde Park was our backyard, frontyard and playground.

It was the thoroughfare we used to walk or ride our bikes to our local primary school, the place my kids had birthday parties and caught up with their friends after school. It was grazed knees, icypoles and arvo tea before heading home after school.

It was (and still is) my daily walk – to check on the ducks and lately to count the trees. During my running years it was the laps I pounded over and over, slowly progressing to the first of many fun runs, triathlons and later half marathons.

It’s the place I go to make sense of the world. When I was completing my teaching degree it was the place I went to get clarity when tackling an assignment or before an exam. During COVID it was where everyone went! Now it’s to form the perfect headline for a piece of writing or dredge up some new ideas for a project.

It’s a regular picnic spot where large groups of us gather for catchups and birthdays – the scene of many annual Purple Picnics beneath the Jacaranda trees. Special occasions, sad occasions and celebratory occasions.

My kids (now adults) knew every low-hanging branch, every nook and what was the best angle to hold your body to get the metal roundabout spinning crazy fast. We had names for the ducks and could recount every batch of cygnets. We rescued many injured birds – trudging through thick mud to do so.

The park is still there and at the time of writing this, in full canopy. In a matter of weeks, 180 trees will be removed. Some of Perth’s oldest and largest Morton Bay Figs and London Plane Trees will no longer exist, the entire ecosystem of the islands in the centre of both lakes will be razed to the ground upsetting the nesting sites and possibly displacing hundreds if not thousands of living things, including ducks, swans, ibis and turtles.

Unfortunately the trees at Hyde Park have fallen victim to our love of travel and nice things. Those nice things are the furniture and wooden artifacts made from untreated wood from south-east Asia. Failure to declare wooden products at customs means the invasive Polyphagous shot-hole borer has managed to sneak in. A tiny beetle (2mm) that bores into tree trunks and eventually starves the tree of water and nourishment from inside. First discovered in Fremantle 18 months ago it has infested trees in some of Perth’s major parks, including Kings Park and the only way to stop the spread is to remove the trees.

There are 900 trees in Hyde Park, and in the time I have spent there I have noted very few new trees planted to replace the dead or removed trees. Gaps appear and then are forgotten about – like when you have a molar removed – after a while you stop noticing the gap. This time, the demise of the trees is no longer gradual , its going to be a full-scale decimation.

Perth has just experienced some of the hottest days on record – day after day of temperatures over 35 degrees starts to take its toll on wildlife and humans. Hyde Park and nearby Mary Street are two of the coolest places to go when the temperature is crazy hot.

Suburbs that previously had adequate tree canopies are now more concrete than ever. Developers continue to rush in and bowl over entire blocks including established trees and gardens only to leave blocks empty for years. Can never understand what the rush is.

Hyde Park as we know it is about to change forever. Now I flinch everytime I hear a chainsaw and get anxious when I see plastic tape around a tree – It won’t be long before thats all we can hear.

All In A Day #15 – Cruising the Coral Coast WA

A cruisy roadtrip up the Coral Coast to Green Head WA is the perfect minbreak. When combined with a sea lion experience its definitely an adventure worth writing about!

Green Head, home to the Noongar and Yamatji People, is 300 km north of Perth and one of the prettiest coastal towns one could visit this side of Geraldton. Jurien Bay is the home of sea lion tours – we visited this part of the world in the Noongar season of Kambarang when wild flowers are in full bloom.

The road trip is spectacular which ever way you choose to go. The drive up the Indian Ocean Road is stunning but sometimes I head straight up the Brand Highway. This trip, we somehow missed the split where the Tonkin becomes Brand Highway and ended up in Moora on the Bindoon-Moora Road. All roads lead to Green Head!

Wildflowers on the road side, green rolling hills and beautiful farm properties enjoying the last of their green before WA’s long hot summer passes it by. We got there in much the same time with the added bonus of coffee and cakes at the Bindoon Bakehous – delicious! Bindoon is a quirky little town – worth a gander for the great little gift shops and organic shop.

We arrived in Green Head just in time for lunch and settled into our accomodation at the Ocean Break Beach Stay (literally on the beach) right on Dynamite Bay. We decided our legs needed a stretch so we headed to the general store (for stores) to make lunch and then set off to go tramping the coastal paths.

The Three Bays Walk is a bit deceptively named as I am sure I counted in excess of 5 bays! Not one to ever complain about too much of something we continued our stroll.

Undulating hills and contrasting colours of the coastal scrub while the waves crashed, the wind gusted and birds made themselves known. A sensory experience! I kept an eagle eye out for sea eagles but two pelicans catching the wind like a couple of synchronised flyers were the only high flyers I saw that afternoon.

Small beaches accessible by steps delighted us with tiny rock pools inhabitated by crabs and colourful sea weeds. The water holes extend out past the sandy shore to become reefs of aqua blue and cooling greens, so inviting.

The coast in these parts is windy to say the least, especially mid afternoon but we found small nooks and crannies and valleys of dunes to shelter from the wild winds.

Kids swim safely in Dynamite Bay, apparently one of the world’s top 20 beaches. Lovely sheltered bay, but as far as I am concerned any beach at any time is pretty amazing so I’m not sure where they get their stats from?

Wildflowers nestle in the dunes and spring from behind rocks to surprise us with their colours – reds, yellows and pinks.

Later, we wipe the sand from our shoes and sit on the balcony with beers overlooking the top 20 beach in the world – does life get much better than this? The sun slowly covered our balcony with a golden hue and peeked through the cracks in the railings to form long shadows. True holiday vibes where no one, least of all, me is in a hurry.

The aroma of Bali chicken curry wafts up from the cafe downstairs – tonight’s special . Freerange dhufish is also on the menu. What does that mean? Aren’t all dhufish freerange until they’re not? We laugh about the use of freerange as an adjective.

Western Australia is blessed with a certain type of light. Late afternoon is the best time for photos in my opinion. I’m not even a Western Australian yet I feel childhood nostalgia for that light. Is that even possible?

Dinner was delicious – the Bali chicken curry really lived up to its aroma and Anthony’s freerange dhufish was freeranging no more as he sliced it up. We had an early start the next day to go swimming with sea lions so it was off to bed with sandy toes and a sea breeze passing through the windows.

Up early to seek the elusive sea eagle from the balcony – photos on the walls of our accomodation tease me and signs everywhere saying “watch out for sea eagles” I was, believe me! Instead I got a shot of the moon hanging in the early morning sky. The sea looked calmer and the wind had slowed to a puff. Great news for the morning’s activities.

We breakfasted and packed ready for our next adventure – snorkelling with sea lions! We drove the short distance to Jurien Bay and grabbed coffee from the lovely cafe on the beach before making our way to the marina for a 9:45 launch.

On board the vessel we were quickly zipped up into full length wetsuits and on our way to meet some new slippery friends! The boat sped over the clearest blue ocean to reach our final destination – a small island covered in a swath of lazy sea lions who barely raised a flipper let alone their whiskered heads.

There are rules about not approaching the sea lions or stepping foot on the islands and the boat must stay within 30 metres of the shore. So we slipped into the sparkling ocean (which was a tad cold) with snorkels, masks and flippers. Not a fan of flippers, I realised after I had struggled to move in no way that resembled a mermaid or a sea lion!

We didn’t have to wait for long – a curious female returning from breakfast came in to swim around us and sit on the ocean floor. So graceful in the water these beautiful mammals are just like dogs of the sea. According to our well-informed on board marine scientist, Chelsea, the sea lions are pregnant pretty much all the time! They can get pregnant 7 days after giving birth!

Sea Lion facts

  • Australian Sea Lions are endangered and there are only 3400 in the wild in WA
  • Australian Sea Lions are also found in South Australia
  • Sea Lions are Australia’s only native seal
  • they have a gestation period of 18 months and can fall pregnant 7 days after giving birth
  • Sea Lions can weight up to 250kg
  • They are not fussy eaters and will forage for anything including fish, squid, and even the occasional sea gull!
  • Female sea lions are ‘homebodies’ and like to stay in their patch while the males range far and wide and live in ‘bachelor pads’ when the breeding season is over.

45 minutes was all we could spend in the water and during that time another female came and checked us out. We could see the others shifting around on the beach and occasionally sitting in the shallows to cool off. Then it was back on board for hot showers and hot chocolate. Best hot chocolate I have ever tasted! The trip back was quick and before we knew it we were back on land

The trip home we decided to take the Indian Ocean Road as it seemed pretty quiet. A great decision.

What’s the skinny

  • Green Head is around 300 km north of Perth – an easy 3.5 hours drive and you can get there by following the Indian Ocean Road, The Brand Highway or the Moora-Bindoon Road.
  • CentreBreak Beach Stay is a great spot to stay if you want a few creature comforts – they cater to couples, families and singles. The cafe is the town’s only eatery and they do lovely homecooked meals.
  • Green Head Caravan Park is close to the beach and caters to tent camping, vans and caravans.
  • Jurien Bay Oceanic will whisk you away to swim with sea lions – books essential
  • Three Bays Beach Walk is marked by signs and will take you a couple of hours to explore the bays.

All In A Day #14 – Sealion the deal

He’s behind you! My paddle buddies shouted as I frantically retrieved my phone from a dry bag on top of my paddleboard!

It was that time again. The day standup paddlers decide it’s not too cold, not to windy and that the sea is not too swelly. Beginning of spring, tail end of the Noongar season Djilba. The sun had started to get a bit of a bite and the easterly was showing its face.

Photo thanks to @kellygriffen

Time to paddle on the ocean after paddling in the sheltered river for the past few months. Or alternatively, some may choose to remain in the shelter of their homes until the weather is stinking hot before they emerge with their boards and paddles. You know who you are! Each to their own.

Me, I like to paddle all year round and I can usually be found puttering around up river with the pelicans and darters. I sometimes paddle alone and sometimes with a group. So this Sunday the weather was all that and the conditions perfect for our first ocean adventure.

We selected Coogee Beach where the ocean is usually flat and most importantly, it has a banging cafe for coffee afterwards. The easterly was puffing and the ocean dead flat – perfect. We paddled up to the Omeo wreck and did a circuit and then headed back towards Coogee Surf Lifesaving. The wind had picked up a bit but as long as we stuck to the shore all was good.

It was around now that we noticed what I originally thought was a swimmer and someone else suspected the “S” word motoring along not far from the shore in the opposite direction to us. It was indeed an “S” word but not the scary one. It was a sealion! A big fat sealion cruising the bay popping up every now and then for a breath before diving deep.

Great excitement ensued and I decided this was a photo opp so I paddled like mad towards the last place I had sighted the big fella. Nothing. Then “He’s behind you!” screeched one of the girls. I scrabbled for my phone (dry bags never open quickly in an emergency) and spun around to see him or her motoring towards me – up and down went his whiskered head and flippers.

I clicked away (yeah I know iPhones don’t make clicks) and got some shots before I realised he wasn’t going to slow down or stop before he got to my board. Thud! his shoulder and back slid under my board shifting me sideways. I think I screamed and then he was gone – diving so deep.

I decided he couldn’t have seen me, he was having such a whale of a time he got carried away and when his body made contact he was just as startled as I, causing him to dive to safety. But I got the shots (and that’s the main thing right?) We were all so excited. He emerged further on and we sat and watched him frolic in the shallows before turning and leading our paddle party back to the beach.

Video evidence!

It was also time to have a swim. The water was cold but so refreshing and the feeling you get after a swim in cold water, especially the ocean – is the best. So, here’s to more days on the ocean, more encounters with nature and more paddling with friends!

What’s the skinny?

  • Coogee Beach is about 30 minutes drive from Perth city
  • The Omeo Wreck is popular with snorkellers and divers
  • The Australian sealion is a playful and curious ‘dog of the sea’ – they live on nearby Carnac Island
  • The Coogee Beach Cafe do a damn good coffee and muffin (just sayin)
  • Standup Paddleboarding is popular in Perth and surrounds – see my previous blog about water activities

All in a Day # 13 – The Blue Mountains once in a blue moon

A chance visit to Sydney and a trip to the Blue Mountains – my latest All in A Day adventure

When I found myself with three nights to spare on a recent trip to Sydney I decided to head for the mountains and spend some quality time with family in the tiny town of Blackheath – a community with its head in the clouds and its feet firmly anchored in some of the most amazing rocks I have ever come across!

So I boarded a train in Sydney town – Central Station, and settled in for some scenery and a rolling train trip. I had been out partying at a client’s award presentation at the swanky Star Casino the night before (the reason for my trip) so to sit down for a couple of hours was the perfect solution.

When I arrived in Blackheath just over two hours later my neck was sore from looking this way and that. The only time I had ever been into the Blue Mountains was when I was ten years old. My grandfather drove my sister and I to Katoomba where we got out of the car and stood to gawk at the Three Sisters. Then, back in the car for the trek back to Sydney.

My grandfather liked to show us grandkids all the tourist attractions. Bondi in the summer (where he argued with a parking attendant about the exorbitant parking fees – in 1974) the Harbour Bridge (where I remember dropping coins into a bucket for the 1974 Cyclone Tracy victims) the Opera House – looming above and a visit to Luna Park (where I wore a polkadot dress with a Peterpan collar that made me look ill in the hall of mirrors), Warragamba Dam, where we did the entire tour of the inside of the dam wall, and finally Bullens African Lion Safari Park where we sweltered in his small car with all the windows wound up (to prevent lions entering) and no airconditioning. It was like he had a list and he ticked them off one by one.

I remember getting into huge trouble when we got home from the Blue Mountains trip because I had thrown a chunk of chewing gum from the back window and it had stuck on the duco! Hard as a rock. I had to help remove it.

Deidre was at the Blackheath Station to greet me. A long time between visits for both of us, I was looking forward to catching up. We arrived at her small blue home nestled on a hillside surrounded by trees and soft green grass. I breathed in deeply and it felt (or smelt) so familiar even though I had never been there before. Deidre lives in paradise and I couldn’t believe it took me so long to get there. Tasmania is never far from my memories when I find myself in the bush and this reminded me of Tassie.

We lunched and chatted until tiredness overcame me so I snuck off for an afternoon nap in the attic room. A soft single bed with loads of warm doonas and pillows – I drifted off to the sounds of parrots and sulphur crested cockatoos in the back ground, cool mountain air arrived like an unannounced guest through the open window. I could feel it was going to be cold at night.

I woke up and made my way downstairs after putting on some layers and closing the bedroom window, cold indeed. We made plans to go and watch the blue moon rise over Govett’s Leap. It had been magnificent the night before when I caught it hanging over the city.

Deidre filled thermos cups with delicious pumpkin soup. We took spoons and warm clothing and drove to our pitch dark destination. All the makings of a grand adventure.

We sat in the car and sipped on our soup before getting out out to view the rising moon. I had no idea what scenery lay before me as we clutched the rail and looked out into the dark until I visited two days later during the day light hours. Wow! The moon did not disappoint and we stayed to watch it disappear behind a cloud as a young couple howled from the carpark not far from where we stood. Our bones were chilled so we got back into the car to escape the icy air that enveloped us.

A brilliant night’s sleep – warm and comfy and in the bush – my three favourite states of being. The next morning I set off on a solo adventure as Deidre had some work to do. I decided to follow the railway line – certain that the views would be magnificent somewhere. I wasn’t wrong. After 5 km I came across a group of 20 somethings organising their gear to head to the cliffs for some rock climbing.

I chatted to them and they noted my camera. “The views from where we are going are pretty amazing” one of them said, “follow us down if you like.” So I waited while they loaded their bags with carabinas, ropes, snacks and helmets and fell in behind them – piggybacking onto their adventure – as they skipped down the trail with bags the weight of a human body on their backs.

They reached the edge and I took some pics without getting too close to the long drop. They asked it I would take their photo and I said “yes, as long as I don’t have to hang over the edge.” Photos snapped I bid them farewell and made my way back up the slope. Very steep. Once I reached the top I decided that I had satisfied my need for an amazing view and I had a 5km return walk, so I patted my camera and turned back the way I came.

Blackheath is a sweet little town with the usual supermarkets, bakeries and butcher shops you find in those small places. A visit to the local supermarket where the shelves were so close you have to shimmy past others coming from the opposite direction, a great coffee from Altitude Cafe and some vegetable pasties from the local bakery, I was ready to return to Deidre’s for an afternoon of gin and cakes with some of her friends.

A couple of gins in and the sore calves from the mornings trek started to relax. The lovely company of some friendly locals combined with the warmth of the heater and warming drinks made for a super relaxing afternoon. Once everyone left we helped ourselves to another piece of cake and a cup of tea, chatted some more before we headed to bed.

Another good sleep and I was ready for another hike. This time I decided to head back down to Govett’s Leap to see what I could not see the evening I arrived (breathtaking) and then onto the Grand Canyon Hike- a 7 km loop that took me down into the depths of middle earth and back out again.

Extreme steps on the way in meant extreme steps on the way out. I loved every moment of the trail – ferns, trickling water, waterfalls, thick bush, creatures (a snake, a bearded lizard and some sort of a ground dwelling brush bird) It was like paradise. I was not so enamoured of the steep steps on the way out but at least I was prepared for them.

It always amuses me how people forget that what goes down must go up (in this case). I had a conversation with a couple going the opposite way to me and who had just reached the bottom – they told me that there would be a “bit” of steepness on my climb out, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I, on the other hand warned them of the climb they faced at the other end. I believe both ways were equally steep.

By the time I reached the top those calves were singing! I made my way back to the carpark with a full camera (literally ran out of space) and a full heart. And made my way home for a rest and something to eat.

That afternoon we got in the car and set off on another adventure into Katoomba – around 15 minutes drive away to check out the Three Sisters as the sunset. Groups of tourists and families gathered and took photos of one another and themselves- laughing and having fun in the cool soft light.

We then visited the beautiful Carrington Hotel – a grand dame of a hotel with chairs that enveloped us in their lush cushions. I had a Lemoncello cocktail before we headed out to dinner at the local Thai restaurant. I was ravenous after all my extreme exercise. The food was so good.

My final night and more chats before falling into bed – my last night in the mountains. I slept well and woke early before jamming my reluctant clothing back into my (too small) bag. Final coffee and a final chance to chat. Before boarding the train all the way to the airport and on to Perth. I had only been away from home for five nights in total but it felt like so much more.

What’s the skinny?

  • Blackheath is at the highest point of the Blue Mountains – altitude 1065 m (no wonder I felt breathless!)
  • The town is 120 km west of Sydney and you can train there in a couple of hours
  • Katoomba (home of the Three Sisters) is 10 minutes down the road
  • The Carrington is a grand old dame in Katoomba – worth a visit
  • Govetts Leap will take you breath away
  • If you can deal with steep climbs and steps The Grand Canyon hike is amazing
  • Blackheath Bakery Patisserie makes the best vegetable pasties!
  • Rock climbing is very popular in this part of the world.
  • A Blue Moon is not really blue.
  • Visit the Three Sisters at sunset and remember to practice your echo.
  • Bullens African Lion Safari was a thing! Bullen was a circus owner and he made wildlife parks in NSW and Queensland. The NSW park was near Warragamba Dam
  • If you would like to experience Blackheath and you are looking for a lovely room in an AirBnb Deidre is you hostess with the mostest.

All in a Day #12 – toenail moon and rocky outcrops

Under the Milky Way we camped. On the site of an old town in the middle of the Western Australian wheatbelt.

The Western Australian Wheatbelt is so unassuming from the outset but so rich when you dig deeper (or in this case: climb higher).

A camping trip to Kwolyin Camp site in the middle of wheat and canola country was the perfect weekend getaway for three adventurous women. We arrived mid afternoon on Friday to set up camp on the old Kwolyin Town site around 40 km from Bruce Rock and 7 km from the nearest shop in Shackleton.

The camp site was spacious and the sites are not marked so it’s first in best pitched. We chose a spot not too far from the toilet block (flushing loos it might be said!) but far enough away so as not to be disturbed by comings and goings.

I had already been distracted on my way in, by a sign saying ‘Kokerbin Rock’ not far from the campsite turn off and had made a detour to check it out. So when I arrived I was full of stories. ‘Monlith this, monolith that!’ Incredible, in case you were wondering. More about that later.

We pitched our tents and helped Lainey hoist up her fancy camp trailer with everything (and the kitchen sink) included. Chairs were placed strategically around the fire pit and then we prepared for dinner as the sun set behind the trees. Fire lit and bubbles in hand – all was good with the world.

The night sky was incredible. The toenail moon the milky way pulled us into the void – this trip was going to be the trip I finally sorted out my camera settings and got some astro shots. But not tonight – we ate, chatted and enjoyed the serenity before tucking ourselves into sleeping bags. There was a definite chill in the air!

The next morning I emerged from my tent to find our camp site enveloped in mist – the sun struggling to push though. The nearby sheep (that had impossibly long legs) were obviously distressed about something (maybe the mist) because we could hear loud baaing across the camp ground.

We sparked up the fire and brewed some coffee and tea. A cook up breakfast was on the cards – eggs, mushrooms and tomatoes with toast. Incredible! We had already discussed our plans for exploring the Granite Way the night before and decided to head straight out to the furthest rock, Mount Stirling, first up.

We hit the gravel road where rock after rock sprung from the flat wheat country. Most rocks were on private properties so access was limited. Mount Stirling was incredibly striking – rising from the newly planted crops – deep green and lush. A drive around the side of the rock took us to the shell of an old church and some strange person-made rock structures that had the hallmarks or sacrifice? My wild imagination thought so anyway. They were probably someones attempt at a picnic table – nothing sinister.

The grass was long and hard to walk through – mosquitoes were everywhere (I regretted my choice of wearing shorts) but we managed to get fairly close to the base. There were some Picnic at Hanging Rock vibes – Mirandaaaah!

Because most of the rock was on private property there was no access to the back end of it. We discovered a sign at the entrance where you could climb the rock. The ascent looked quite steep.

Next we did a drive by some of the other rocks on the trail before heading back to Kokerbin Rock (the one I had explored the day before) because I knew it had walking trails and summiting the rock was relatively easy. The sun was out and warming us up by this stage. We walked around the edge of Kokerbin Rock and climbed part of the way up. The views were spectacular – yellow, green and brown.

Within the camp site is Coarin Rock – walking distance from our tents. We missed this one even though it was so close.

We stopped and chatted to a Kellerberin local who runs the fruit and veg shop – out for an explore on her day off. Back at camp a group of ‘detectorists’ had gathered and they scoured the land for old pennies. They wore gaters, head phones and boots, carried small collapsible shovels while their metal detectors let out a constant high pitched beep when they discovered ring pulls, tin cans and the occasional piece of history. I had an overwhelming urge to shout ‘what r u got?’ – a line from the Tv series “The Detectorists” but I think I was the only one who had seen it.

Instead we asked them questions about what they expected to find and it was all very interesting! I had an urge to buy a metal detector and join in the search for treasure.

The detectorists retired for the afternoon and the whole campsite seemed to have a siesta. Flies buzzed and the breeze washed softly over our camp. I think we all fell asleep.

Time for afternoon drinks and nibbles followed by dinner prep. Lainey delivered the goods and wrapped every conceivable vegetable known to womankind in foil. We set up the fire to produce coals and then placed everything strategically into the coals. Everything was perfectly cooked and incredibly delicious!

There is an air of Saturday night celebration in the air as the camp site became more populated. Groups of people chatted around fires while listening to music and dancing under the Milkyway.

I had written down some instructions on how to take astro photos before leaving Perth so I was ready for nightfall and the promise of clear skies. After our veggie feast I set up my camera and played around for a while. At last something ressembling Astro photography emerged on my playback screen. I had photographed the universe! Not bad for a first effort.

We were tucked up in bed around 9:30 pm. Then, up the next morning to pack up camp and head back to Perth. What a grand adventure!

What’s the skinny?

  • Kwolyin Camp Site is around 200 km out of Perth
  • The camp site has basic facilities and fresh water is available
  • The Granite Way is a 60km self-drive trail to see giagantic granite rocks throughout the wheatbelt shires of Bruce Rock, Quairading and Kellerberrin.
  • Camp fires are permitted in the cooler months – always check first. Bring your own wood.
  • Astro Photography is a bit of a buzz and as long as you have a camera or even a phone anyone can have success.
  • The closest shop for staples is 7 km away in Shackleton
  • Picnic at Hanging Rock is an eerie story made into an equally eerie Peter Weir film in the 70s
  • The Detectorists is a quirky look at the sub culture of metal detecting – worth a watch.

All in A Day #11 – Dwelling on Dwellingup – a ‘cusp of Spring’ Break

All in A Day takes a break from camping to enjoy the luxury of a winter cottage.

Crisp mornings with a dash of sunlight , steam rising from rooftops. Quick – light the fire! Walks through the forest across the road and relaxing on the verandah. Pretty nice way to spend a weekend!

A box fire warms the front room, providing a glow to the cheeks and the cockles of our hearts. What actually is a cockle? Note to self – find out the origins of cockle.

The bush beckons from the front verandah. Glimpses of ravens hopping across the road, glossy wings half extended. Always up to something – no good? Smaller offerings – Flaming Robins, Blue Wrens and New Holland Honeyeaters flit about proving hard to capture (in my lens).

The drive to Dwellingup is delicious – green pastures, random cows and copses of bush. Some flooding from all the recent rain. I stopped in Pinjarra for groceries and lunch. Whisky to make hot toddies as I have lost my voice – three days and counting.

I always feel like I have forgotten something when I am not camping. Camping is simple – grab that box, that crate, that bundle. Airbnb is just throw more and more stuff into the car and slam the door. More than I need and not everything that I need. Unfortunately one of things I grab is a bundle of keys – story about that later.

About my voice, or lack therof. I have been whispering like a creeper for a couple of days. No other symptoms, just no voice. So I sit and listen mostly. Hot toddies with whisky, honey and lemon do nothing but warm those cockles. Oh well, not all bad.

Then, lazy afternoon sun, birds a cacophony (there is no better word) of sound. A stroll to the railway station where historic carriages and diesel engines languish. The Hotham Valley Steam Train must be out steaming up the tracks. High vis enthusiasts tend to the aging trucks and engines. Visions of Sodor.

Backyard hounds strain on chains, their voices harsh with barking. Poor creatures lack stimulation. Pampered city pooches with little room to move are treated like kings and queens compared to these country dogs.

Meals appear at intervals. First breakfast, second breakfast, brunch, snacks, dinner – punctuated with drinks (and cheese).

Then, woken (or shaken awake) at 5:30 am by an earthquake – 5.2 on the scale. My bed felt like someone was trying to get me out of bed. I leapt up to check that everyone had felt the same thing. Some thought vertigo.

Last morning – ice on the car windows. Memories of childhood when ice was a daily occurence, kickstarting the Peugot 404 and casting a bucket of warm water on the windscreen only to have if freeze again as we trundled down the drive heads out of windows like dogs catching the breeze.

A drive down to Lane Poole Reserve to catch the flowing river and go for a final walk through the forest. The river flowing and frothing like a milkshake and the steam still rising from the ground as the sun thaws the ice.

Then, home to unpack and relax. Another superb weekend.

What’s the skinny?

  • Dwellingup is around 1 hour and 15 minutes from Perth
  • We stayed in an AirBnb on the edge of the forest
  • Pinjarra is about 20 minutes away for any major shopping and Dwellingup has a well-stocked IGA, some lovely cafes and a restaurant or two.
  • Lane Poole Reserve is a National Park 20 minutes out of Dwellingup and you can camp there – Bookings essential for most sites.
  • Water sports including kayaking and paddle boarding are popular in this region
  • Mountain Bike trails are everywhere – in the parks and around the town
  • The Dwellingup Hotel (Dwelly Pub) is perfect for a pub meal!
  • Cockles of your heart –dates back to the mid-1600s, a time when scientific texts were often written in Latin. The Latin term cochleae cordis means ventricles of the heart, and most probably, the word cochleae was corrupted as cockles.

All in a Day #9 Hot Air Ballooning in Northam

A hot air balloon flight over Northam in the Western Australian wheatbelt has me hooked. Ballooning is like flying in a dream.

Hooked on a Feeling (or the most fun you can have while being dangled beneath a sheet of nylon and a roaring flame – 4000ft in the air)

May 2023

“We’ll be landing next to the cemetary, but hopefully not as a convenience!” Pilot Nick quipped as we ascended to 4000 ft.

Pilot Nick wasn’t flying a plane but the biggest hotair balloon I have ever seen. To be honest it was the only hot air balloon I have ever encountered, up close. We were here because I had purchased balloon flights for Anthony’s birthday. A great gift for someone who has professed to a fear of heights!

We were up at 4:30am to meet our pilots (yes they are actually called pilots) Dan and Nick. It was pitch black outside and just a bit chilly. After our brief we were piled onto a bus and a troop carrier, towing a massive wicker basket, to go find our take-off destination.

Not your usual trip to the airport. We headed out of the town of Northam towards open fields. Much chatter over the two way radio and we found a barely concealed entrance and a gate (the first of many). Riding rough shod over fields and a small creek, pausing to ensure the basket was going to fit under low hanging trees, we finally reached our destination – the top paddock. Sorry sheep.

Liberty Balloons has two massive balloons and they quickly set about unfurling the nylon ‘envelope’ (that’s the official term for a balloon) and unloading the massive baskets. I noted with relief that the baskets were divided into four sections to prevent an imbalance.

We had been informed during our briefing that ballooning is a hands-on experience and it would be all hands on deck to get everyone up in the air. Volunteers from our party helped unfold the nylon fabric and get it ready for inflation. While this was happening another balloon company arrived with two big balloons and a private ballooner with a single basket.

Top paddock was beginning to look very surreal. The sheep were nowhere to be seen and mushrooms of intense colour slowly emerged from the golden grass and inflated around us. The first part of the inflation process involves fans of incredible power. Once there is enough air, heat is introduced – horizontal flames powered by liquid propane shoot into the opening of the envelope.

As the balloon lifted and became vertical it was time for us to clamber into the basket. Twenty people in each – five in each section and the pilot in the middle. The basket feels very substantial and nicely padded. “Practice your landing position!” shouts Nick. Landing position entails bending your knees to absorb any impact on landing and bracing yourself against the back of the basket. While Anthony was worried about being up in the sky, landing was probably my worst fear, to be honest.

The sun appeared, glowing orange highliting the wet grass. We can see where we are now. A padock not far from the main road, surrounded by trees. Smoke from nearby burn-offs hangs in the air, mixing with early morning mist.

Finally it is time and Nick sends a blast of flame into our envelope. The basket shifts slightly before the tethering rope is released and we lift off and move across the field, narrowly avoiding trees. It is now that I have a flash of memory – Ian MacEwan’s “Enduring Love” where a man is caught by his leg to the rope secured to the balloon as it takes to the air. I hazzard a peek over the side, no one dangling from the rope. I shake that memory loose as we lift higher under the power of propane and barely perceptible wind currents.

Ears pop as we reach 4000 ft and the gas is switched off. So silent, so still – no one says a word. As we peer over the edge and gaze down on Ballardong Noongar booja at the natural and person made lines, Aboriginal paintings come to mind.

I feel the same as I do when I fly in a dream – sublime! The current changes as we rise to catch it and we are now above the other balloons. That’s a photo I never thought I would take! A balloon from above.

We take a right turn and cruise down the mighty Avon River following its path into town. The CBH silos look like Lego land from afar and parts of the low lying land are swathed in mist. Tiny houses and even smaller cars. I count swimming pools in back yards and feel like I am in a dream.

Before we know it, its time to find somewhere to land. The ballooners have an agreement with local land owners about landing and taking off from their paddocks. One never lands in the spot where you take off and one also never really knows where one is going to land! Consequently there is communication happening the whole time between balloons and the ground crew who are ready to drive to where ever we land and pick us up.

The cemetary was to our right and so too was a vast paddock inhabitated by sheep. That was our final destination. “We will land somewhere here” claims our intrepid pilot before reminding us of our landing stance. The ground was suddenly moving very fast below us, “Brace yourself!” The basket caught the earth and dragged across the ground, almost tipping over. Collective “oohs” and nervous laughter as we ground to a halt.

It’s hard not to jump out but we all remembered the warning “You are all ballast! If you jump out everyone else floats away!” so we wait as the ground crew secure the balloon. The second balloon hot on our tails swoops into the paddock herding a flock of sheep before it and disappears over the rise and lands not unlike our balloon. We laugh at their plight, not unkindly, but knowingly.

Now its time to earn our breakfast. The balloon has to be folded and put back into the box it arrived in. As a seasoned camper I know how these things go. When does any piece of camping equipment ever fit back in its bag?

The crew rally us to complete this final chore before we can get on the bus and head back to breakfast. Lift, push, fold, carry and repeat – suddenly its gone. The object of such incredible joy is a damp piece of nylon stuffed into a crate. I wouldnt fancy the job of taking it out and airing it . Does that happen? I wonder.

The life of a balloon pilot sure would keep you on your toes. Thanks for putting me back down safely on my toes. In the words of our pilot Nick “A balloon flight one walks away from is, indeed, a good one!”

What’s the skinny?

  • Northam is one hour + 20 mins (96 km) from Perth City
  • If you are hot air ballooning you must book in advance
  • Ballooning only takes place from April – October
  • Stay overnight at one of the hotels or camp grounds as you must be up at 4:30 am to go ballooning!
  • The Farmers Home Hotel does a banging pub meal and breakfast
  • There are two balloon companies operating from Northam – Liberty Balloon Flights and Windward Balloon Adventures
  • A two hour balloon flight will cost you around $350
  • While in Northam visit the Bilya Koort Boodja Museum – indigenous centre for cultural and environmental knowledge
  • Check out the silo murals on the outskirts of town