I didn’t say it yesterday, although it would have again been appropriate, but I feel today it must be uttered once more. What a difference a day makes. Save for a smattering of precipitation overnight, which made no difference to us at all, as we were well and truly snugged up, warm in bed, we got up this morning to find the sun shining warmly, as we congratulated ourselves on making the decision to move inland.

With no rush to get on the road, we dragged our feet a little before we saddled up in ‘The Beast’ and got under way. Our travels today will see us heading further north through the township of York, before turning east at Northam.

York Town Hall.

York is a little town that holds the honor of being the oldest inland town in Western Australia. As such, the main street is a cavalcade of dainty historic buildings. Having visited York previously, we made the time to drive up and down the main street quickly, stopping solely to allow Bec to have a look through the little antiques shop. I was going to join her, but got tied up chatting to a couple on the street about travelling with the dogs after they heard our two barking noisily from the back seat. They have been putting off travel, because of their own pooch. I told them what I would advise anyone with pets. Just get out there and do it. We put our own odyssey off for some time because of the animals and while we have been hampered in some places because of them they sure as hell have added to our adventures and there is no way we could have left them behind.

Architecture in…

…Northam

Our next stop was in Northam, a rather large town set along the banks of the Avon River. Also home to a range of historically significant buildings, we spent the bulk of our time wandering up and down the main street peering through the windows of the shops and stocking up on some groceries for dinner tonight. Set on the river as it is, there is also a pedestrian bridge that is regarded as the longest suspension bridge of its kind in Australia. Naturally, we took the time to walk across that, marveling at the bright colours of the ducks paddling about beneath us as we did.

On the suspension bridge.

Northam was essentially the end of our northern ventures, as we turned to head easterly and further inland after leaving the town centre. With the sun out today, and only a few puffy, cotton wool like clouds suspended in the azure hued sky, the fields we passed by today took on a vividness that was indescribable. I though the pastures we passed yesterday were green, even in the bleak grey, sodden light, but today they were almost glowing such was the vibrancy. All neatly tilled with various crops or grazed by sheep, farming is obviously the main industry in these parts. Comparing todays scenic outlook to yesterdays, I can now see how the path we wove yesterday could have been considered scenic in the right light.

The route we were travelling on this afternoon is designated as the golden pipeline heritage trail as it follows the route of an above ground water pipeline. While the pipeline isn’t golden as one might imagine given the title, nor does it really have anything to do with gold, apart from the gold rush being the impetus for its construction. A major feat of engineering when it was completed over a hundred years ago, it is said to be grander in scale than any of the hydro schemes that even the industrious Romans managed to construct. Not only that, but it is still in use to this day. Of course, if the whole business of fluid transfer fails to get your heart racing, the fact that you can stop at various waypoints along the way to peer at old pump stations, or marvel at the actual, genuine pipeline itself will mean absolutely nothing to you. As for us, the pipeline was a constant reminder of the scheme, laid out alongside the road, but we made no effort to stop and take in the associated sights.

For our final destination for the evening, we had picked out two possible roadside camps, separated by 100Km or so, on the road to Kalgoorlie. By 4:30PM, with another 10 minutes to go to reach camp site number one, we decided that we had covered enough miles for one day and would pull in for the evening. Another hour or more on the road would have seen us pulling into the next campsite too close to nightfall for comfort, as we endeavor to minimize the number of kilometres we drive after dark. The heft of the wandering wildlife is too great a peril to make the folly of night driving worth the effort.

So at just before 5:00PM we found ourselves pulling into the muddy lot behind a service station in Bodallin. The camping here is free, with access to toilets and a phone box. That should have spelled out a warning, as phone boxes are a distinct oddity in this day and age when almost everyone has access to a phone in their pocket. Naturally, when we checked, it turns out that having a phone in your pocket is of no consequence here, where there seems to be little to no signal anyway.

After pulling off of the main road and having an exploratory walk about the rest area, we picked out what at first glance appeared to be the prefect spot to spend the night. It was nestled amongst some trees and was a generous distance from the other little motor home that was already in residence. After an avid attempt to negotiate the rig into that site, we found it to be too short by several feet, not to mention being too tight into which to easily maneuver. Giving up on that plan, much to Becs malcontent, we ended up parked right next door to the other campers. Too close to feel comfortable starting up the generator in any case. So while Bec moaned about the cold, I set to work aiming the satellite dish at a little invisible spot in the north eastern sky, so at least we could snuggle beneath the duvet and watch TV. And apart from a short spell to eat dinner, that was pretty much our evening.

Until next time, stay safe, have fun and don’t forget to write.