We untethered ourselves from Fremantle, wishing that we could have spent a day or so longer here, as it is a lovely city. Really, it is contiguous with Perth, but Freo folk insist that it is an entirely different place. Maybe we will return to explore the town and its heritage. Instead we found ourselves in convoy again, on the Great Northern Highway, flanked for mile after mile by green and gold pastures of wheat and canola. We wanted to get to New Norcia by about 1.00pm so we could go on the tour of the village.

New Norcia is a tiny village of about 100 people, but its significance consists in its being a monastic town, owned and operated by the Benedictine Order. It really is a beautiful place, with its Spanish-styled architecture owing its heritage to the Spanish Benedictine monks who established a mission to the Aboriginal community in the 1840s. The beautiful chapel houses, a magnificent pipe organ that Brother David played for us with great flourish and exuberance. He also performed his own composition on the piano – also with much energy. We got the impression that while he participates quite happily in the strict disciplines of the monks’ life, he relishes opportunities to be much more expressive and extrovert with his music.

We crunched along gravel paths to see some of the former sites of the town – the flour mill and bake house and the schools. The Order still makes bread which is very highly regarded and produces olive oil which we were told has won silver medals. In the evening we attended Vespers, a sung Latin liturgy which was really quite beautiful. It was the sort of service where you can lose yourself in the chants and become immersed in the worship, even without fully understanding the words. Brother David gave a lead on a smaller pipe organ in the monks’ chapel, but it was much more subdued.

We had planned to dine at the hotel, and had previewed the menu at an afternoon coffee with a degree of anticipation, as everything looked very appetising. We had even gone to the effort of booking a table. But as we approached the hotel, it seemed oddly dark, and quiet and we discovered that the power had failed in the kitchen which would only be preparing salads or a cold meat platter. Well, I guess that was the healthy option, but I was looking forward to the parmigiana. Perhaps the bonus was that as there was no power there did not seem to be a way to be presented a bill. Unfortunately my companions are imbued with innate honesty and insisted on paying up on the following morning. On the plus side, we were rewarded with a healthy discount for our inconvenience.

After settling up we continued our journey to Geraldton, a longer drive of about 340 kilometres. Along the way we took the opportunity to take photographs of some of the wildflowers we could identify by the roadside. Well, we assumed they were wildflowers, but with our knowledge of things botanical, they could well have been weeds. Among the flowers we could see signs of human activity as well… Litter seems to be everywhere.

Geraldton is a good-sized town of about 40,000, a port city supporting agriculture and mining. We were staying at the northern edge of the city, at Sunset Beach. Sunset beach seems to get its name from the stunning views on the western horizon as the sun dips below the ocean. From our vantage spot in the park, the vibrant orange and pinks filled the sky, and we were glad to be able to enjoy the moment.

The following day we drove out to Pindar so we could see the wreath flowers. Until now, these had been a mystery, and it was a round-trip journey of about 290 kilometres to see this patch of flowers flourishing along a short 150 metre strip alongside the road. Part of the mystery is how anything could thrive, even for a short life in this rather harsh, gravelly and dry environment. Of course there were many other wildflowers and we took a huge number of photographs, that will need to be culled into something more manageable. We had a soft drink at the Pindar Pub, which is not really a pub, as it has no licence, and ate our bread rolls that we had prepared in advance.

There was much to see around Geraldton. One site well worth a visit is the memorial to HMAS Sydney. The ship sank off the coast after a destructive battle with the German ship Kormoran, and now rests 2500 metres below sea level with 645 souls lost. It is an imposing, but beautifully created memorial that overlooks the city, pointing hopefully out to sea in the direction of the stricken ship.
We continue to be amazed at the absolutely top-class restaurants we find in regional cities. In Geraldton, it is Skeeters, where we shared a meal with John and Anne and their Geraldton friends, Brett and Justine and their daughter Brittany. It was an astounding meal, and we confirmed the excellence by coming back for an afternoon coffee and vanilla slice on the following day.

So now we are in Perth after a long drive along the coast. With a constant stream of oncoming traffic of vans, campers, camper trailers, boats and caravans in tow, we felt that Perth might have been evacuated. Anyway, the caravan park where we are staying for 6 days is well-populated, so it seems that a few folk have stayed behind. Perhaps they did not get the message to evacuate. John has evacuated – off to the AFL Grand Final in hopeful expectation of a Richmond Tiger’s win.