THE BIG DASH: Changing places

We’ve turned around and retraced our route a few times on this trip. But this week, the doubling back’s been a bit different. I was going back to my childhood.

I’m originally from Western Australia, and travelling through the south of the state was a chance to revisit a place called Jerramungup, where I lived as a small child. Then on to Bremer Bay, where we holidayed in those days as a family.

Some things were familiar, some had changed and just about everything looked smaller. Funny how that works when you’ve grown a few feet and added 60 years.

Back to three bucks a litre

We’re at the point with Tas – our Kia Tasman X-Pro – where it’s all pretty familiar. There’s not much it does that surprises us now.

It keeps towing, we keep travelling, the kilometres keep adding up. And people keep asking if it’s electric!

No, definitely diesel, and the fuel economy has been challenging when towing this week. These roads are undulating, we’ve often been heading into the wind and there’s been plenty of rain as well.

This week, we also paid over $3 per litre for diesel for the first time since Warnum back in June (TBT). It won’t be the last time before we get home.

The impact of rising prices and heavy fuel consumption can be seen in the ordinary km per $ rate recorded this week.

There was one roadside attraction on the way to Jerramungup that was particularly appropriate for this trip into the past: Horsepower Highway and its collection of tractors.

This is a community-created tractor and art trail running for about 75km from Broomehill through Gnowangerup towards the Stirling Range National Park. Old tractors, retired from farm service, are showcased at regular intervals along the way.

It resonated with me because Dad sold Massey Ferguson tractors in Jerramungup, as well as Holdens. I remember going out with him to farms to demonstrate the tractors.

I reckon it was those early drives, sitting next to Dad in his HD (or maybe it was a HR?) Holden and seeing those demos that helped get me interested in cars and things automotive. Obviously, it stuck.

So to this week’s fuel numbers.

Litres consumed: 107.5
KM travelled: 574
Consumption average: 18.73L/100km
$ paid: $319.69 (best price paid: 277.9 per litre/worst price: 303.0)
KM per $: 1.8km (was 2.32km per $ last time)

Things we’ve enjoyed this week...

Jerramungup, a small soldier settlement town, carved out of the scrub in 1953 at the southern end of WA’s enormous wheatbelt, was home from when I was about three until I was seven in the late 1960s.

I started school here and made the first friends I can remember, learned to ride a bicycle (another thing that’s stuck with me) and did stupid things like sticking my bare foot in a pile of ash to see what happened. It got burned!

We lived at 7 Spitfire Avenue. Some of the street names had a wartime theme, which I guess makes sense given the town’s origins.

Jane and I went back to the house, looked at the school and saw the church I remember being built while we lived there. We also found the place where Dad sold those Holdens and Massey-Fergusons.

Everything looked much smaller than I remembered. The house, the town, the distances between things. Childhood gives you a different scale.

But Jerramungup looked healthy. It’s expanded with more houses and a large sports centre. The scrub across from our house has been turned into a park, the school’s grown and the local footy team won the premiership!

South of Jerramungup on the coast, Bremer Bay was where we went for summer holidays.

I distinctly remember learning to swim here. It comprised being chucked into the sea off a rock out on the point. Apparently, that’s how it was done back then.

Didn’t know then but Bremer Bay is home to plenty of sharks, Killer Whales and other carnivorous denizens of the deep. I survived, learned to swim and still love it.

When we holidayed here as kids, we stayed in a tent. There was a campground, plenty of scrub and perhaps a couple of buildings and holiday houses. That was about it.

Now there is a proper township, shops, the excellent Bremer Bay Brewery, a pub and a servo. It’s certainly moved on in the last 60 years. No surprise really.

It’s still remote, though. You have to make a bit of an effort to get there.

We were in Bremer Bay for the AFL Grand Final, and the rain was absolutely hammering down. So we stayed in the van and watched what turned out to be an epic game of Australian rules football.

When the rain cleared, we cruised south of town to the Point Henry Peninsula and were once again stunned by this southern WA coastline.

Sheer cliffs, wild seas, extraordinary rock formations and perfectly formed little bays. Some you could drive down to and onto the beach. Some were sheltered and calm, tucked away from all the commotion outside. Just beautiful.

For a place so remote it’s surprising how many substantial houses are hidden away in the bush here, most with magnificent views. We met a local who told us she makes the 400km round trip to Albany every six weeks for supplies. But she’s happy to do it.

“Best place on earth, paradise,” she said. I don’t doubt it.

At Bremer Bay as at many other places on this trip, long walks on beautiful beaches have become an integral part of our experience.

They’re reviving and soothing. They take us deeper into this spectacular environment than just pulling up at a carpark, taking a photo and driving off again.

Jane looks for shells and whales. I try to take photographs that capture something of what we’re seeing.

Lulu runs about three times as far as the rest of us walk. Ed ols along, gamely keeping up and eating anything putrid he can find.

Each walk is different and each beach is different, but there’s a similarity to the peacefulness they deliver. We often have them to ourselves.

They get us away from the humdrum of caravan life. There are always jobs to do, things to address and lists to make and tick off.

Sure, this is a six-month holiday, but it’s also quite a logistical exercise. You’re always thinking about where you’re going, what needs doing and what needs sorting out.

Walking gets us away from that for a while. Out into nature, with no particular job to do other than keep going and see what’s around the next bend in the beach.

Coping with caravan condensation

Condensation has been the challenge this week.

Heavy rain, cold weather and running the heater at Bremer Bay combined to leave us waking up to wet walls and a wet ceiling inside the van. Not ideal.

We did some research, tried to improve the ventilation and got a moisture absorber. We’ve been leaving the windows open more as well.

Whether all that has made a big difference is hard to say. Maybe a bit. Since we left the heavy rain behind, we haven’t had the same problem, even with cold nights and the heater running.

Thankfully, the days have been better too.

One very gratifying thing: despite all that torrential rain, including setting up in it at Bremer Bay, there were no leaks into the van.

Condensation, yes. Water finding its way in from outside, no.

Believe me, it was raining hard enough that you would have understood if some had got in. But the MDC stayed watertight.

Jane’s also had another crack at the gas oven and it’s working a bit better. It’s still a pretty coarse device to use, but the cold nights have at least made using it more appealing.

Pit stop parks

While parks at big attractions like Monkey Mia or Esperance are the stars of the show, smaller ones dotted around the less visited parts of the countryside play an essential role.

They give travellers somewhere to pull in, plug in and get some sleep on the way to the next big attraction.

The quality of the amenities varies, but having them there is handy.

We experienced two of these pit stop caravan parks this week at Jerramungup and Ravensthorpe.

A bonus, quite often, is these smaller parks are run by some interesting characters. The bloke at Ravensthorpe was a font of local information and then forgot to charge us for the site. He seemed unfussed when we sought him out to pay next morning before we left.

At Jerramungup, by contrast, the whole process was handled remotely by email. Never saw a soul.

We’re now back in WA school holiday time. After our experience up north in mid-winter, that initially worried us.

But it’s been a lot calmer down south. There’s been plenty of room in the parks we’ve stayed at, no trouble with bookings and no stipulations about minimum or maximum stays. If we’ve wanted to extend, we’ve been able to.

There are still big family groups, just as there were up north. They gather on adjoining sites with swags, tents, sunshades and the occasional caravan, and often do their cooking outdoors.

At Bremer Bay on Grand Final day, one group was cooking and sitting outside in the pouring rain. They seemed happy enough.

Clearly, Grand Final weekend down here is a family occasion. Quite a few people seemed to have come specifically for it, because on Sunday a lot of them packed up and left.

Unless they were just broken-hearted Freo supporters who couldn’t cope any more. Or just sick of the rain. Or both.

We really liked the Bremer Bay Caravan Park. Beautifully grassed, well protected and just down the road from the beach. A great location, even when the weather wasn’t doing it any favours.

It was a good choice in the late 1960s and remains so today.

Next up Esperance and, apparently, a few very special beaches to walk...