After a couple of longer days travelling it was good to stop at Norseman for a two-night stay. Like everything else on this journey, Norseman was a town whose delights were yet to be discovered. Norseman is at the Western end of the stretch of long straight roads and roadhouse oases, and the point at which one goes north to Kalgoorlie and the goldfields or South to Esperance and the sparkling waters of Western Australia’s southern coast.
Norseman’s mysteries did not take long to discover. It is a sad little town whose days of glory are long gone, and all that is left are abandoned houses, an eroding tailings mountain from the gold mines, a few shops bravely holding on and a small population of around a thousand people. The bright feature was that the town was celebrating its 125th anniversary, and so the Saturday was quite lively.
We wandered down to the main street in the morning and the pavement was full of stalls selling cakes, jewellery, steel plate signs and motifs, clothes and some more alternatives wares of home produced oils and tinctures and crystals. Among the highlights was a wood chop competition and a rock drilling competition. The rock drilling looked quite awesome as men wrestled mechanical monsters angrily spitting water and rock to see which team could fight their way through half a metre of stone.
The wood choppers looked more professional with their finely honed and shiny axes, smart uniforms and precision timing. There was a fun run with people of all ages doing laps of the town, which of course did not take very long. We were very glad that we could see Norseman at its optimistic best.
On the Sunday we decamped and set off for Esperance, basically downhill and no longer fighting the fierce westerly headwinds such as we had across the Nullarbor. Towards Esperance the scrub and bush is given over to the broad acres of wheat and canola which makes for a pretty scene. We stayed at Esperance for three days, exploring the coast out to Cape Le Grand in the east and along the coastline to the West. The stunning feature along the coast is the pristine white sands of the beaches, the beautiful turquoise waters of the surf, the waves almost translucent and with dramatic sprays of mist streaming off the surf. Each bay and cove brought gasps of astonishment at this wonder of colour.
On the Tuesday we drove out to Cape Le Grand. Along the way we stopped off at Stone Henge, replicating the authentic stones from England, although using granite rather than sandstone, so the replica may stand the test of time a bit longer. It is an astonishing enterprise, a complete full-scale construction as Stone Henge would have been in its original form. Apparently the replica was to have been built at Margaret River using granite quarried and sculptured near Esperance. The project ran out of money to transport the stones, so they were erected at Esperance.
Cape Le Grand is a wild part of the coast with the same white sands and turquoise waters in secluded bays protected by rocky headlands. Jenny John and Anne did a walk from Lucky Bay to Hellfire Bay across the rocks and dunes. As it was a one-way hike I was volunteered to drive across to Hellfire Bay. While waiting for the others, I took delight in scrambling over rocks and tiny inlets to marvel at the rhythm of the waves and surf. While the white sands and clear waters are astonishingly beautiful, I take even more delight in seeing the pulse and surge of waves over the rocks, trying to see patterns in the rhythm.
We had made a picnic lunch that we ate at Lucky Bay. We were amused at the kangaroos who came to inquire of us whether we had food to share. Clearly they are accustomed to sharing with humans, and they were very calm and familiar in our presence, and were quite keen to sit at our table, and share our sandwiches.
In recognition of Fathers’ Day, Jenny and Anne took us to dinner, and on the recommendation of TripAdvisor, made a booking at Loose Goose. It was a quietish evening, so we had the undivided attention of Patrick, our host. Dressed in black with an Irish lilt and a very quirky, Irish sense of humour, he entertained us with stories and something of his adventures. He was not over-intrusive and gave us many a laugh. It turned out it was his last week in Esperance, so we promised to go to his restaurant at Geraldton when we get there. The food was wonderful – scoring an 8 from us for the fish. Nowhere has quite come up to the standard of the unpretentious pier shack at Cowell on the Eyre Peninsular.
Moving further East, our next stay was at Hopetoun, a small town with no frills or fancy. For a while it seemed that the town was largely devoid of human habitation, for not a soul was in sight and no shop seemed to be open. The weather seemed to be just as unwelcoming with the cold winds sweeping up from the Antarctic encouraging us to find a place of warmth – and coffee. My blood-caffeine levels were getting dangerously low and we were fortunate to see that there were signs of life in a little café near the pier. Good life-saving coffee, and I was told the vanilla slice was good enough to resuscitate life as well.
We did a drive around the town, and following signs to “Shops”, discovered hundreds of almost new homes – large homes with tidy streets and gardens, but not a person or car to be seen. The shops were also empty shells. What on earth could make a whole population seemingly vaporise.
The following morning we discovered that there was a local library open which also served as a tourist information centre. We got a lot of information about things to see in the Fitzgerald River National Park, just a few kilometres out of town.
Hopetoun was to be the site of a giant nickel mining operation of BHP, and the company, in prospect of a large population of workers had built all the homes and new shops. However they abandoned the project when nickel prices slumped, leaving a ghost-town and a remnant population of fishing and farming communities. The library/information centre was wonderful, indicating a quite vibrant population of those who remain or are waiting for mining to recommence.
We ventured out to the national park with its rugged coastline, mountains and rolling plains filled with exquisite flora. The wildflowers were amazing, and we are in the very early stages of the wildflower season. Jenny, John and Anne climbed East Mount Barren, giving them commanding views of the countryside and the coast. All of us attempted the climb to Selpulcralis Hill. Weaving our way along the stony path and scrambling over occasional rocks, we got to the raised timber platform atop the hill and gazed out on… well, nothing that we could see that could be sepulcral, just more scrub and bush and wispy trees. We later discovered that it is the wispy trees that are the object of viewing. Eucalyptus Sepulcralis or weeping gum, was a new one for us, and there was nothing to indicate what we were supposed to be looking for. So now we know!
Well, our next stop is Albany where we will stay for six nights. John and Anne are flying back to Melbourne for a few days to attend John’s mother’s funeral. It is a sombre time for them as while her death was not unexpected, the timing was not expected.
Comments by Bill
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