I have to confess I had almost no knowledge of the Eyre Peninsula prior to this adventure, so I had no expectations. I apologise to my South Australian friends. For geographic reference, the peninsular is a quite large triangle referenced by Port Augusta at the top right, Port Lincoln at the bottom of the triangle and Ceduna at the top left. The drive from Port Augusta to Ceduna via Port Lincoln is about 800 kilometres. We started this part of the journey a week ago, last Saturday, and as I write at Ceduna it is Saturday afternoon, and we are about to head out to the Ceduna Foreshore Hotel for its famed seafood platter.

The start of the trip looked much like the semi-desert landscape in northern South Australia, dominated by low scrub and saltbush. The road was a narrow black band disappearing into the distance accompanied by a pipeline that presumably carries water to the south. Eventually however, the yellow and brown landscape reveals patches of green, and before long the countryside is dominated by vast green fields of wheat, with the townships playing host to huge wheat silos.

In fact, the Eyre peninsula features in equal importance wheat and seafood, and I could not escape the parable-ic story-line of bread and fish and the accompanying notion of provision and sustenance.

The coastal towns feature their harvests of seafood – fish, prawns, oysters, crabs and lobsters. We stopped at our first little town of Cowell where we found a rough-looking shack on the shore adjacent to a rambling jetty. It was lunch time, so a good excuse to try the fish and chips, though the listed price of $36 looked a bit steep. The fish was locally-caught King George Whiting and we managed to get the last available, so we did not have to settle for lesser fish. The little shop was very unpretentious, the scruffy-looking telescope hung forlornly on a tripod on the balcony, but yielded no views, mainly because it did not work. Still, that helped us concentrate on the fish and chips which were delicious. And, it turned out the price tag was for a meal for two, so good value.

Our destination for the day was Tumby Bay, a pretty seaside town with large grain silos with murals, now a feature on many silos. We found our caravan park and then went for a walk along the esplanade and out along a jetty. While we were out at the end of the jetty a lady joined us in conversation and asked if we had seen the signs along the boardwalk which described some of the local flora and fauna. I said that we had indeed seen the signs and was intrigued by the sign about the razor fish wearing shoes. “I was not even aware razor fish had feet,” I said. She looked at me like I was an idiot and stomped off. But the sign seemed quite clear to me. However, at this stage of my three score years and ten, I am getting used to people regarding me as a little odd, if not quite the village idiot.

As we headed off on the Sunday morning, we decided to go to church and found a small Uniting Church. We were made very welcome, and they even had gifts for us! We stayed for some morning tea, and soon were in convoy for the drive to Port Lincoln. As we neared Port Lincoln, the wheat fields looked healthier and more productive. The locals at Tumby Bay had complained that the drought was affecting their crops.

Port Lincoln is a thriving town with large fishing fleets and prosperous homes. The tourist centre gave us some highlights to visit, including “millionaires’ row”, a lookout, the fish factory, marina and the Lincoln National Park. First priority was to find a coffee shop that met out high expectations, and John discovered the “Rogue and Rascal” which he thought somehow applied to us! Strange.

South Australia seems to excel in satisfying our tastes. Great seafood, excellent coffees and they have mastered the sweet things like cakes and vanilla slices. John is road-testing the vanilla slices of Australia and he has high praise thus far. The tour of the fish factory was interesting with samples of the various fish caught locally, including tuna for which Port Lincoln is most famous. We finished the tour with a sampling plate of the produce which was very nice, and a lunch of fish and chips which was a bit ordinary. The guide had been spouting the wonderful flavours of the kingfish and the whiting, the flathead and the bream, but the meal was flake – a bit mushy and over-cooked, so we left a little disappointed.

The national park is a shortish drive south of the town. There are lots of bush-walking tracks as well as 4-wheel drive tracks to some isolated beaches and headlands, all offering great views of the wild coastline. We did one of the bushwalks up Stamford Hill, about 5 kilometre loop up a sometimes-steep track, with expansive views over Port Lincoln and Spencer Gulf.

Next day was our trip to Elliston, a much smaller town on the way north west of Port Lincoln. Along the way we called in to Coffin Bay, famous for its oysters. It was pretty quiet, but we did eventually find an oyster place overlooking the bay. There was an amazing menu of oysters and Jenny and John chose a mixed dozen of Kilpatrick and Francois oysters and slurped them down with sighs of deep contentment while Anne and I looked on with revulsion. On the other hand, we found the sticky date offering much more satisfying, and up to the very high standard we have become accustomed to in South Australia.

Elliston is a small village but it has a lovely jetty, a scenic drive that includes some locally created sculptures that seemed a bit more interesting in the brochure than in the reality. Jen and I did an evening stroll at sunset, along the jetty with the sun setting over the bay, showing off through the clouds. Jen suggested that since we had done the sunset pictures, maybe John and Anne could be responsible for some sunrise photos early the following morning. While they did the jetty walk, the dawn eluded them, mainly because they were too late. Elliston is not the sort of place to provide morning cappuccino. Jenny has a weak long black, but such a concoction seems to beyond most of the baristas we have come across, and she ends up drinking something akin to used dishwater. The trick now is to order a normal strength black coffee with hot water on the side. Anyway, we quite enjoy our own coffee brewed in our plunger.

The trip to Squeaky Bay (or as the locals and the maps call it – Streaky Bay) is not much more than a hundred kilometres, so we take it pretty easy, cruising along at a comfortable and economical speed. Along the way we called in to see a rock formation called “Murphys Haystacks”. These are eroded granite outcrops weathered into into wonderfully shaped stones. They are hard to describe, so enjoy the pictures.

After setting ourselves up in Streaky Bay, we went for a drive to Cape Bauer. An interesting geographical feature is the whistling rocks at the head of the cape. Erosion has formed pipe-like tunnels into the rock, and as the surf crashes into the shore, water and air is pushed through these tunnels and give an eerie whistling sound. It is as if nature has created its own pipe organ. When we saw two Southern Right whales cruising through the waters close to the “organ” we wondered whether the sounds were used by the whales as a navigation instrument. The whales were magnificent, playing in the breaking waves accompanied by a pod of dolphins maintaining protective positions around their charge.

We headed out to the village of Seale Bay which offered nothing in the way of refreshments, so we ate our sandwiches at a beautiful little beach pavilion overlooking the bay. We were very impressed by the small loo, ambitiously called “Camelot”. Anyway, it provided great views of the bay.

Continuing our drive, we came to Point Labatt, famous for its colony of sea lions. They seemed to have a pretty easy life lying on the rocks soaking up the sun, with the children playing in the kiddies pool. The wind was from the south, cold and strong, making it difficult to stand still enough to take a photograph.

Ceduna is about 110 kilometres further along the coast, and it completes the third point of the Eyre Peninsular triangle, and really marks the point where the Mediterranean feel of Eyre ends, and the semi-arid lands of the west begin. The town appears to grind to a halt at noon on Saturday, so nothing was open on our stroll through the town. We identified the Ceduna Forefront Hotel which John’s brother had recommended for its seafood platter. On this basis, we had already booked a table to partake a seafood feast. We crammed into our little car in the evening for our dinner and some pre-dinner drinks. Jenny and John had the platter while Anne and I each had whiting. Despite the high recommendation we were a little disappointed, scoring the meals 6 – 7, and nowhere as good as the simpler, and cheaper fish and chips at Cowell.

Well, it is now Sunday 25 August. It would have been Jen’s dad’s 93rd birthday, and we remembered him fondly for the good person and great father he was. We have left Ceduna for a couple of days at Flawless Bay, sometimes known as Fowlers Bay.